OTHERS' VIEWS

OTHERS' VIEWS

Fuel Station Palaver

Setting: A scorching afternoon at a seemingly endless fuel queue in Lagos. Mama Ade and Papa Emeka are neighbors, stuck in their cars, inching forward.

Mama Ade: Papa Emeka! Na you be dis? Ah, dis fuel wahala go kill us one day! See queue, e be like snake wey swallow elephant!

 

Papa Emeka: Mama Ade! Wetin man go do? Motor don dey nearly drink air. Dem say fuel dey, but e be like say na for oyinbo land dem keep am. Laughs dryly Na only for Naija you go queue to buy wetin you get money for!

Mama Ade: True, true! Even for heaven sef, I sure say queue go dey for gate if dem share free gold. Na our national sport be dis, queuing Olympics! But eh, my back dey break o. Dis good governance wey dem promise, na queue dem mean? Queue for fuel, queue for light, queue for water… Na queue upon queue!

Papa Emeka: Sighs Na so we see am o. Dem say we dey resilient. But I dey think, na resilience or na we just learn to dey suffer and smile? Maybe one day, queue go queue for us, e go tire, e go commot for road. But until dat day, make we dey manage, dey pray, and dey sweat for dis line!

 

Fuel scarcity in Nigeria

Bank Wahala

Setting: Inside a crowded bank hall in Abuja. Young Corper Tunde and Elder Musa are waiting in the snaking queue for the teller.

Tunde: Baba, good morning… or good afternoon sef. Dis bank queue dey fear me! E be like say to collect your own money for Naija, na pilgrimage.

 

Elder Musa: Fans himself with a newspaper My son, welcome to Nigeria! Na since we bin small pikin we dey queue. For school fees, for food, now for pension… Queue na our heritage! Chuckles sadly Dem say technology dey make life easy, but ATM queue sef dey longer pass NEPA queue before!

Tunde: But Baba, all dis plenty queue, e no tire us? Dem dey promise us change, better Naija… but na same queue we dey see. Good roads, hospitals wey dey work, light wey no dey blink like Christmas… Na queue we still dey for all of dem.

Elder Musa: My son, e get wetin eye see, mouth no fit talk. Maybe di queue na test from Baba God. To test our patience, our faith… or maybe to test if we go finally vex and use our leg break di queue! But for now, we dey here, dey queue, dey hope say one day, we go reach front, collect our right, and maybe, just maybe, see small change for di better Naija we dey dream of.

 
Fuel crisis queue

Fuel crisis queue

Ah, the queue. That ubiquitous, serpentine entity that slithers through the Nigerian landscape, a constant companion in our daily lives. From the hallowed halls of A-class events to the humble confines of Iya Basira’s Amala joint, the queue reigns supreme. It’s a national pastime, a social ritual, and, let’s be honest, a profound national predicament.

Consider the A-class event, a spectacle of champagne flutes and canapés. One might expect a certain level of decorum, perhaps even a touch of regal efficiency. But no. The buffet line, that sacred trough of culinary delights, becomes a battleground. Dignitaries, celebrities, and the crème de la crème of society, all reduced to shuffling mortals, plates in hand, eyes fixed on the jollof rice like pilgrims at a holy site. It’s a humbling experience, a reminder that in the face of free food, we are all equal.

Then there’s the fuel scarcity, a recurring national drama that plays out with the predictability of a Nollywood plot. The headlines scream, “Fuel Scarcity Looms!” and, like Pavlovian dogs, we react. We abandon our homes, our offices, our very sanity, to join the snaking lines at petrol stations. Cars stretch for miles, forming impromptu parking lots, and tempers fray like overstretched elastic bands. It’s a national exercise in patience, or perhaps, a national exercise in masochism.

The banks, those bastions of financial probity, are no different. The ATM, a marvel of modern technology, becomes a monument to our collective frustration. We stand, we shuffle, we sigh, watching as the minutes tick by, each transaction a Herculean effort. And heaven forbid you need to see a teller; that’s a queue within a queue, a bureaucratic labyrinth designed to test the limits of human endurance.

 

Iya Basira’s Amala joint, a culinary institution, is a microcosm of the national experience. The queue here is a testament to the irresistible allure of her pounded yam and egusi. It’s a vibrant, noisy, and slightly chaotic affair, where conversations flow as freely as the palm wine. But even here, in this haven of culinary bliss, the queue is an ever-present reality.

And let’s not forget the senior citizens, those who have toiled and contributed to the nation, now forced to endure the indignity of queuing for their pensions. It’s a national disgrace, a testament to the bureaucratic ineptitude that plagues our institutions. Surely, a thunder 5.0, delivered with the righteous fury of a vengeful deity, is the only fitting punishment for such callous disregard.

Fuel Scarcity e1460235569125

Fuel Scarcity 

The cinemas, the places of worship, the airports, the immigration offices, the passport offices, the exam halls – all are united by the common thread of the queue. It’s a social equalizer, a national leveller, reminding us that no matter our status, our wealth, or our influence, we are all subject to the whims of the queue.

Even our roads are not immune. The infamous “go-slow,” a queue of cars stretching for miles, is a daily ordeal, a test of patience and a testament to our collective acceptance of gridlock as a way of life. It’s a symphony of honking horns and frustrated sighs, a mobile queue that moves at a snail’s pace.

 

One might argue that the queue is a symbol of our resilience, our ability to endure hardship with a stoic shrug and a wry smile. But is it really resilience, or is it a learned helplessness, a passive acceptance of inefficiency? Are we so accustomed to queuing that we’ve forgotten what it’s like to live in a system that functions efficiently?

Perhaps the queue is a reflection of our national character, a testament to our communal spirit. We queue together, we suffer together, we complain together. It’s a shared experience, a collective ordeal that binds us together. But is it a bond we should celebrate, or a symptom of a deeper malaise?

The queue, in all its forms, is a mirror to our society, reflecting our strengths and our weaknesses. It’s a reminder that we are a nation of patient people, but also a nation plagued by inefficiency. It’s a testament to our communal spirit, but also a symbol of our collective acceptance of mediocrity.

 

We must ask ourselves: are we destined to forever shuffle in these endless lines, or can we break free from the shackles of the queue? Can we create a system where efficiency reigns, where queues are the exception rather than the rule? Can we build a nation where the “go-slow” is a relic of the past, and the only queues we encounter are those at the gates of paradise?

Until then, we will continue to queue, to shuffle, to sigh, and to laugh at the absurdity of it all. For in Nigeria, the queue is not just a line; it’s a way of life. And perhaps, just perhaps, it’s a story we tell ourselves, a shared narrative that binds us together, even as it tests the very limits of our patience, the question is how long do we have to stay in the queue waiting for the good of governance, the best of leadership at the very local level, when will the queues for better education, accessible healthcare be a right to every Nigerian—Only time will tell.

In a dramatic ruling that has sent shockwaves through Nigeria’s political landscape, the Supreme Court affirmed a federal high court judgment that has reshaped the status quo in Rivers State. The language used in this ruling seems laden with subjective undertones, which could stir strong emotional responses. Such language, in a legal setting, arguably oversteps the boundary between legal clarity and the realm of personal opinion. The emotional tone woven through the judgment—while perhaps reflecting the Court’s sentiments on the case—could be seen as subjective for a ruling of this magnitude. I dare not question, but this is undeniably something that is left to the legal eye for further scrutiny.

The apex court’s decision reinforced this intervention but also faulted the Abuja Court of Appeal for attempting to void the federal high court’s judgment. There seems to be an undercurrent of frustration in this strong critique of the actions of the lower court. This ruling, while legally binding, carries an emotional charge that could be interpreted as subjective. I dare not question, but this raises the concern of whether such a judgment, laden with subjective emotional tone, compromises the Supreme Court’s duty to remain impartial in its rulings. The impartiality of the Court’s approach is something that warrants careful legal review.

One of the central aspects of the ruling was the Court’s statement that the 27 lawmakers—allegedly defected from the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) to the All Progressives Congress (APC)—remain legitimate members of the Rivers State House of Assembly. The use of “allegedly” and “still legitimate” seems subjective. It creates an atmosphere of uncertainty where there should be clarity. By framing the matter with such ambiguity, the ruling seems to inject a subjective interpretation into what should be an unambiguous legal question. This leaves room for interpretation and further analysis, and is undoubtedly something left to the legal eye for consideration.

 

In the words of Justice Emmanuel Akomaye Agim, “It is an act of indiscipline and a joke taken too far which has no place in a democracy.” This judgment carries a subjective tone that could be seen as more of a political critique than a legal one. Phrases like “indiscipline” and “a joke taken too far” might resonate with the public, but they also reflect a personal viewpoint that could be seen as subjective. Such language, while emphatic, goes beyond the legal reasoning into the realm of moral judgment. I dare not question, but for a judgment of such consequence, one might expect more neutral and legal language instead of emotionally charged rhetoric. This is left to the legal eye to determine its appropriateness.

The apex court also stated that “Four members sitting as purported members of the House of Assembly in defiance of a subsisting court order is a nullity.” The use of the word “purported” carries an implicit dismissal of the actions of those involved, casting them in a light of illegitimacy that seems almost definitive. By choosing this language, the Court introduces a subjective judgment, which, while impactful, may not always serve to clarify the legal process as fully as a neutral statement would. This raises the question of whether the Court’s role is to provide objective legal analysis or to weigh in on the perceived legitimacy of political actors in such a charged atmosphere. This again is left to the legal eye for further scrutiny.

The justices emphasized the importance of protecting the legislature, calling it “the core institution of governance” that must be upheld “at all costs.” “At all costs” introduces a subjective, dramatic imperative. While this language might reflect the Court’s commitment to upholding democratic processes, it could be seen as a subjective rallying cry that leaves no room for nuance or the careful weighing of competing interests within the legal framework. I dare not question, but this strong language is certainly something that requires careful legal analysis to determine its appropriateness.

 

Justice Agim also criticized Governor Siminalayi Fubara for using his immunity under Section 308 of the 1999 Constitution to justify unconstitutional actions, calling it “an act of indiscipline born out of executive power.” Labeling the actions as “indiscipline” introduces a subjective critique into a legal assessment. While the legal principle may be valid, the framing of these actions in terms of “indiscipline” seems to cross the line from legal analysis into a moral critique. This subjective interpretation of the governor’s behavior could be considered a deviation from the expected objectivity of a Supreme Court decision. This is left to the legal eye to scrutinize further.

The Court also noted that “the governor has chosen to collapse the legislature… as it is there is no government in Rivers State.” This bold claim is highly subjective. It attributes intentionality to the governor that goes beyond the legal facts of the case. It seems to offer a psychological interpretation of the governor’s actions, speculating on his motives and character rather than focusing solely on his legal responsibilities and actions. Such attributions of intent seem to shift the discussion from legal facts to political interpretation, which is left to the legal eye for careful consideration.

In addition, Justice Agim remarked, “What he has done is to destroy the government because of his fear that he wants to be impeached.” This statement reads like a psychological analysis rather than a legal judgment. It attributes subjective psychological motives—“fear of impeachment”—to the governor, which raises the question of whether the Court’s role is to interpret legal actions or to engage in speculation about political and personal motivations. This is an element that is clearly left to the legal eye to assess for its appropriateness within a legal judgment.

 

Furthermore, the Court noted that it was becoming a pattern for those in executive power, when feeling threatened by impeachment, to resort to tactics such as demolishing buildings or other unconstitutional actions. The use of “becoming a pattern” suggests a subjective generalization. While the Court may be trying to highlight potential abuses of power, such sweeping statements imply a recurring problem without clear, substantiated examples of the “pattern” described. Generalizations in a legal ruling could lead one to question the line between legal reasoning and subjective political commentary. This aspect of the ruling is certainly left to the legal eye for deeper review.

This subjective approach by Justice Agim was pointed out by the Rivers State Information Commissioner, who responded further: “We believe that the determination of the main issue of defection of the 27 lawmakers is a matter not before the Supreme Court as it is pending at the Federal High Court in Port Harcourt.” The Commissioner’s statement offers an important critique of the Court’s jurisdiction. His point suggests that the Supreme Court may have prematurely entered a matter that was still under deliberation at a lower court, raising questions about the appropriateness and timing of the Court’s intervention. This adds to the growing concern that the Court’s ruling may have been more subjective than legally warranted. This is an issue clearly left to the legal eye for further consideration.

Justice Agim, who delivered the verdict, ruled that no funds should be released to the Rivers State Government until Speaker Martin Amaewhule’s leadership passes a lawful Appropriation Law. This ruling introduces a subjective element, especially considering that the case is still pending before the federal high court, as the Rivers State Commissioner of Information has pointed out. The Court’s decision to issue such a directive while the matter is under consideration by a lower court may be seen as a subjective intervention. The appropriateness of this ruling, particularly in light of the pending case, is something left to the legal eye for scrutiny.

 

In its judgment, the Supreme Court also directed the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN) and the Accountant-General of the Federation to halt the release of federal funds to the Rivers State Government. While the Court described the governor’s actions as problematic and inconsistent with legal requirements, this characterization could be seen as subjective, especially considering the immediate financial impact on the state’s ability to pay bills and meet obligations. I dare not question, but such terms may not fully capture the complexities of the situation, particularly as the matter remains under appeal, especially regarding Speaker Amaewhule’s leadership and the defection issue. A more comprehensive legal review could offer further clarity.

The Court further ruled that the suspension of funds would remain until Governor Fubara addresses these concerns with Speaker Amaewhule’s leadership. While the decision is clear, the characterization of the governor’s actions may oversimplify an issue still under judicial review. I dare not question, but this decision may benefit from further legal examination in the appeals court, particularly in light of the Rivers State Commissioner’s statement that the matter remains unresolved.

Justice Agim also stated that no funds should be released until Speaker Amaewhule’s leadership passes a lawful Appropriation Law. This connects the release of funds to the legislative process, which may seem premature, especially with the case of defection still pending. The Court also ordered the return of the Clerk and Deputy Clerk to their positions. I dare not question, but the involvement of the judiciary in such executive matters raises questions about the Court’s role in this decision. These actions remain open to further legal scrutiny as the case continues.

 

The Supreme Court has invalidated the local government elections conducted by the Rivers State Independent Electoral Commission (RSIEC) on October 5, 2024, citing breaches of the Electoral Act. I dare not question, but why was there no directive for a new election, especially considering that the previous local government chairpersons had overstayed their terms and refused to step down? Could the Court’s decision, though legally sound, have overlooked the practical consequences of leaving the leadership vacuum unaddressed?

Justice Jamilu Tukur’s ruling emphasized procedural errors, particularly continuing voter registration after the election date was announced. I dare not question, but does this focus on procedural issues, without providing clear guidance for the next steps, seem to leave the state vulnerable to political instability? Is the Court’s emphasis on legality potentially subjective, without sufficient consideration for the political and governance realities on the ground?

The Court also upheld the Federal High Court’s decision barring INEC from providing the voters’ register to RSIEC. I dare not question, but what is the implication for governance in Rivers State without a clear path forward? Does this gap in the ruling suggest a subjective approach, without a comprehensive directive to resolve the leadership crisis?

 

Given these circumstances, I dare not question, but could the Court have been more proactive in directing a new election to address the leadership vacuum? The absence of such guidance seems to leave the political landscape open to further challenges, raising questions about the balance between legal precision and practical governance.

Lastly, the implications for the future of the Rivers State government remain uncertain, with the role of the legislature being reasserted in a way that could shift the balance of power. This case, marked by its subjective language, presents a complex situation that calls for further legal analysis. I dare not question, but the Supreme Court’s ruling raises questions about the actions of political figures in Rivers State and how the law responds to such developments. Could the Court’s decisions, though grounded in law, be overlooking the broader consequences for the people, especially in a region as sensitive as the Niger Delta?

The immediate effects on livelihoods, institutions, and governance could be profound. I dare not question, but one might wonder whether the Court’s moves, while legally sound, could inadvertently complicate the already delicate political and economic landscape. Is the lack of clear guidance on how to resolve the leadership vacuum a decision that leaves too much open to uncertainty?

 

This complexity, coupled with the potential for both legal and political fallout, is certainly something left to the legal eye for careful review. However, the manner in which these decisions unfold will undoubtedly impact the people, and it is crucial to approach such matters with the necessary sensitivity, given the unique challenges of the Niger Delta region.

Comprising five of the country’s 36 states, south-east Nigeria is the site of resilient atrocity. In the eight years from the middle of 2015 to the end of 2023, the monitoring coalition, Nigeria Mourns, confirmed about 3,000 killings in this theatre from open source records, but unofficial estimates suggest that there may be up to five killings missed for each counted. The worst of the killings have occurred since 2019, and the worst hit state in the zone over that period is Anambra.

Many erroneously date the origins of this to the radicalisation of the Indigenous People of Biafra (IPOB) in the aftermath of its proscription in 2017. In reality, the escalation has lasted for over a quarter of a century, dating back approximately to the assassination in Enugu in 1998 of Igwe Amobi IV of Ogidi.

The annual Conflict Barometer by the Heidelberg Institute for International Conflict Research identifies the south-east as one of eight different conflicts of concern in Nigeria, describing it as a “violent crisis of secession” and ranks it on a par with the crisis of armed pastoralism in the Middle Belt of the country; ahead of the crisis of resource militancy in the Niger Delta; and only below the Boko Haram insurgency in the north-east and the armed bandits in the north-west of Nigeria.

Three framings define the crisis in south-east Nigeria in popular narrative. One is that it is about secession. A second is that most of the fatal incidents connected with it are perpetrated by “unknown gunmen”. The third is that the response to the situation is predominantly kinetic. Each of these is flawed. Together, they miss the underlying issues, with the result that they have turned an otherwise manageable crisis into an interminable atrocity.

 

Let’s begin with the first. The simplicity of the secession narrative is appealing at both the emotive and pecuniary levels. The former unites other Nigerians with subliminal appeal against a historical “Igbo question”. The latter enables the managers of expeditionary military deployments in the region to finagle more money for themselves using the excuse of preserving Nigeria’s territorial integrity. This would not be so if the situation were to be understood as a policing preoccupation with crime and criminality.

What’s the reality? IPOB’s business model does not stand a snowball’s chance in hell in any of the truly deadly sites of atrocity in south-east Nigeria. Awkuzu, host to the most horrendous atrocities in the region, is the site of “Nigeria’s most brutal police station” where hundreds, if not more, detainees have been killed extra-judicially. In Obosi, the ancient city on the banks of the Idemili River; and in Awka, the state capital, hundreds of young men routinely exterminate one another in murderous inter-cult and inter-gang warfare. In Ogbaru, located between the banks of Oguta Lake and the floodplains of River Niger, organized gangs mobilize deadly violence in sophisticated operations to rustle hydrocarbons. Lokpanta, the point along the Enugu-Port-Harcourt motorway where all the states of south-east Nigeria come close to sharing common borders, is an ungoverned territory where commercial kidnapping meets atrocity liquidation. None of these square with the convenience or simplicity of the secession narrative or with its profitability.

Turning to the second popular narrative about the situation in south-east Nigeria, the mythical “unknown” perpetrator is a figure of considerable antiquity in Nigeria. It has been around since the inconclusive judicial inquiry into the attack on Fela Anikulapo-Kuti’s Kalakuta Republic in February 1977, which blamed the incident on the “unknown soldier”. In 2011, the traditional ruler of Ihembosi, a community in Anambra State, was disappeared by “unknown gunmen.” They were also to blame in the violent abduction and subsequent disappearance in May 2014 of Chike Okoli, former Commissioner in the same state.

 

The legend of the unknown perpetrator in Nigeria has over the years emerged as both metaphor and measure of what is widely seen as state incapacity and leadership indifference to the scourge of impunity in the country. Far from an affirmation of unknown actors, Nigeria’s legend of the unknown perpetrator signposts a sense of popular despondency or loss of belief in the capacity of the state to end impunity for atrocities.

In the face of these tendencies, therefore, the third idea that the country or region can shoot its way out of this crisis is worse than wishful thinking. The complex landscape of drivers and factors in the situation in south-east Nigeria does not lend itself to such over-simplifications. To reprise a useful metaphor, it is more deserving of a scalpel than a hammer.

Over 24 months from 2022 to 2024, Bianca Ojukwu, the current minister of state for foreign affairs, and I together led a Truth, Justice and Peace Commission (TJPC) into the causes of the crisis in south-east Nigeria, the perpetrators, the consequences and possible solutions. The commission met and consulted with hundreds of victims and witnesses, including the security services, community leaders, clergy, politicians, vigilante elements, as various armed militias in the region.

Two things were evident. One is that the situation in the south-east is fundamentally a crisis of governance and of popular lack of belief in the legitimacy of many in political office in the region. The second is a clear desire on the part of most people to recover their communities and address the tasks of reconstruction and healing from the traumas of the violence.

 

There are no easy answers to these, but there are common threads. Rather perversely, the perpetrators who insist on rendering the region uninhabitable and the security providers who feed the secessionist trope are both engaged in a mutually profitable joint enterprise. Neither wishes insecurity in the south-east to end. This is why the audacity of Governor Chukwuma Charles Soludo in enacting the new Anambra State Homeland Security Law, 2025, is welcome because it evinces a durable solution to the crisis. The law establishes a complementary security provider for the state called “Agun’echemba” (sentinel at the gate) and launches Udo g’Achi (peace shall reign) targeting atrocity insecurity.

Several aspects of the new law have come under scrutiny. In particular, section 18 which targets transactional ritualism has drawn attention, with claims that it lacks the clarity required to pass constitutional muster and discriminates against traditional worship. For context, the TJPC which I led met twice with Juju priests. Separately, I met privately with some senior exponents of the trade. They were united in acknowledging that some amongst them had chosen to parlay their skills in support of atrocity insecurity and made detailed proposals, including asking the government to help root out such practitioners, prohibit infiltration, and regulate and support legitimate practitioners.

The TJPC report diagnosed this phenomenon as “transactional accultism”, which it identified as enabling “violent cultism” and “the crisis of insecurity”. The report argues that this is “a major component of the psychological armor plate of impunity” providing the perpetrators of the violence with deadly rituals which lead them to believe that they have “an aura of both impenetrability to projectiles and invincibility in the field of atrocity, an immense psychological boost in an environment of impunity.”

The law also targets the compounded deficit of legitimate political leadership as an underlying driver of the crisis of insecurity in the region. In 2005, the New Humanitarian reported on the situation in south-east Nigeria that “rigged elections increase disenchantment”, explaining that sympathy for separatism “has been growing since the general elections of April and May 2003, which were marred by widespread allegations of vote rigging.” Officeholders who are widely seen as lacking legitimacy are liable to be compromised when confronted with atrocity insecurity. Instead, they get reduced to belligerents instrumentalizing the violence rather than seeking to end it. In this law, Governor Soludo shows he is different.

 

Above all, this law also addresses the need to rebuild the capacity to administer criminal justice fairly and effectively, beginning with responsible policing; capable magistrates, coroners and the office of the Directorate of Public Prosecutions (DPP). In many states in the region, the police have been rendered destitute of confidence, denuded of the trust of communities. Similarly, most magistrates are desolate and DPP’s offices in the region are unfunded, leaving prosecutorial personnel at the mercy of self-interested parties or of adversaries who threaten them into being ineffectual. The result is that in much of the region, all sides glamourise summary, arbitrary or extra-judicial killing as the solution to crime or deviance, disagreement or dissonance.

None of these is easy to implement. As a programme, it confronts organized opposition from those who have profited so far from the over-simplification in a single narrative of secession that has bedeviled the search for solutions to the situation. The present government of Anambra state has demonstrated single-mindedness ending this. For that, it deserves support and other states in the region can adapt this model.

 

A lawyer and a teacher, Odinkalu can be reached at chidi.odinkalu@tufts.edu

 

 Are you still wondering what has been going on in the Lagos State House of Assembly? Never mind; it is the usual power dynamics on full display by our politicians. They have taken positions and fighting for leverage. No one is amused except that, this time, Lagos State – a highly prized jewel and the centre of excellence – is the latest victim of the show of shame that Nigerians put up with on a regular basis.

From the National Assembly to the State Houses of Assembly, what can we really point to as a higher sense of purpose that drives the conversations and engagements among our lawmakers? After the shenanigans that we witnessed in Rivers State in what turned out to be a long-running soap opera before the Supreme Court judgments, it never occurred to me that Lagos State would be the next perfidious playground.

Without a doubt, Lagos State is the richest state in Nigeria with a GDP of about $34 billion, followed by Rivers State with $21 billion, according to available data. These two states can stand on their own without federal allocations from Abuja. It is understandable that there’s so much at stake in Lagos State, but do we need the political chicanery?

But the bizarre behaviour of a majority of our political elite leaves a sour taste in the mouth. Politicians can align to protect their interests which is okay, but it should not be at the expense of Nigerians when our wellbeing should be their number one priority. What Nigerians want at all levels – from the local councils to the subnational governments and federal government – is exemplary leadership, and I do not think we are asking for too much.

According to John Maxwell, a world renowned leadership expert, “Being a great leader is all about having a genuine willingness and true commitment to lead others to achieve a common vision and goals through positive influence.”

Maxwell also says, “A leader knows the way, goes the way and shows the way.” Great leaders craft a vision for progress and foster a buy-in culture from their followers.

Lagos State not only has the highest urban population in Nigeria, it is arguably the 6th largest economy in Africa arising mainly from its commercial and industrial activities. It explains why the internally generated revenue (IGR) reached a historic N1 trillion milestone last year.

The 40 members in the Lagos State House of Assembly have always worked together in peace and harmony over the years based on a leadership structure for Lagos that is superintended by the Governance Advisory Council (GAC).

However, on January 13, 2025, an unexpected turn of events led to the impeachment of Mudashiru Obasa, speaker of the house of assembly, who staged a dramatic comeback last Thursday and presided over a plenary of only four members. Although Obasa declared that he had returned as speaker, the purported plenary was a joke taken too far.

Meanwhile, Obasa has instituted a legal challenge to what transpired on January 13 while he was away in the United States on vacation. At that time, the house of assembly was on recess. Politicians say when they have a problem, they will find a political solution. But when they don’t, you will see them washing their dirty linen in the public and end up in court, keeping their Lordships busy and working overtime. Never have a dog in their fight.

When Obasa who had been speaker of the house for 10 years was impeached, 36 members voted in favour of the resolution, but Obasa is faulting the process because the House Rules, according to him, requires the majority leader to inform the clerk to notify the members to resume.

But the clerk must obtain the prior approval of the speaker before the notice of resumption from recess can be circulated. Obasa says this process was breached, because, as it turned out, the plan to remove him was an “urgent matter” that had been hatched and consecrated by his political adversaries.

Obasa has also not helped his own case because of his alleged highhandedness, arrogance and overbearing nature. “As speaker,” some insiders alleged, “Obasa had become too powerful and disrespected some of his political associates.” A case in point was when the Lagos State 2025 budget was scheduled for presentation. Obasa kept Babajide Sanwo-Olu, the governor of Lagos State and members of GAC waiting for longer than necessary.

The impeachment process produced Mojisola Labat Meranda as the new speaker of the Lagos State House of Assembly with 35 members of the house rooting for her. Their aim was to effect a change in the power calculus in the house.

But this is just the beginning of the crisis which has been receiving multiple interventions by some elders like Chief Segun Osoba, a media titan and former governor of Ogun State, and Chief Bisi Akande, former governor of Osun State – two influential stalwarts of the All Progressives Congress (APC).

These elders have called for truce from the warring parties which requires a multifaceted approach, but politicians are good chess players and the end will always justify the means. Although the presidency was fingered as backing Obasa to instigate the crisis, it is not entirely true. The facts of the matter do not support this allegation. What is playing out is the usual political intrigues and the fight for relevance by Obasa and his supporters. Insiders say President Bola Ahmed Tinubu was unaware of the plot to remove Obasa, one of his foot soldiers and die-hard loyalist which many see as an affront to the presidency.

In order to take care of the interest of all the critical stakeholders, what is likely to happen is that Meranda will resign and Obasa will perish the idea of returning as speaker. Since Obasa is from Agege 1 Constituency in the Lagos West Senatorial District, the next speaker, according to a very dependable source, is expected to emerge from that District and the likely beneficiary is David Setonji, a civil engineer and current chief whip of the house of assembly representing Badagry constituency. Both Babajide Sanwo-Olu, the governor and Meranda are from the Lagos Central Senatorial District.

This scenario is likely to pave the way for Obasa, all things being equal, to head to the Senate in 2027 in a game of political engineering and brinkmanship. The rally by Obasa and his supporters after he returned from his vacation was stage managed to display his political sagacity and make the point that he will not go down without a fight.

My reading of the situation is that he poured gasoline into the raging fire by taking the additional step of convening the plenary, not to pre-empt the court hearing which was to hold the next day, but to escalate the matter based on the script he held close to his chest which was being used to manipulate the crisis by his sponsors. Clearly, Obasa could not have been acting alone.

Besides Osoba and Akande, Babajide Sanwo-Olu, the APC leaders in Lagos State and Abuja, and GAC members must work together to prevent any further escalation of the crisis. The situation in Rivers State and Lagos State are similar, but they are not taken from the same playbook. It is why I am hopeful that the efforts of peacemakers Osoba and Akande – the bridge between Abuja and Lagos – will yield the desired results within the shortest possible time.

Since Obasa went to court to challenge his impeachment, he should be patient and take it easy. When you are speaker for 10 years, it should count for something. At the end of the day, it is Lagosians that are bearing the brunt of the needless crisis.

How can Babajide Sanwo-Olu function effectively when the house of assembly is divided? In fact, the governor has also been accused in certain quarters of being responsible for the crisis because he wanted checkmate Obasa and teach him a political lesson. Can this be true? I do not have any empirical evidence to support this claim, but who is to be blamed for the ongoing crisis? That is the story of our democratic culture and political evolution which manifests in power play in high places.

Well-meaning political leaders and stakeholders must rise above the fray and douse the tension immediately. I challenge the sponsors of the political gladiators – whoever they maybe – to act in the interest of Lagosians and do the right thing in order to save our Lagos.  

 

Braimah is a public relations consultant and marketing strategist. He is also the publisher/editor-in-chief of Naija Times (https://ntm.ng) and Lagos Post (https://lagospost.ng), and can be reached via ehi.braimah@neomedia.com.ng.    

Nobody had expected that Gen. Ibrahim Babagandida would be truthful in all the claims in his autobiography; or that there would not be twist of history in his narrations and recollections. After all, autobiographies in their very nature are typically replete with embellishments and overstatement of personal acts of heroism. In my preview of the book, titled a Journey in Service, published three weeks before its launch on February 20, I had forewarned that the book may not offer much more than we had known on the major issues of his eight-year rule. I noted that because most of those who were part of his government had passed away, ‘’IBB therefore has enough motivation to engage in revisionism and embellishment of his story’’. I wrote: ‘’Babangida has a lot to tell Nigerians and I hope that he would be honest and candid. Coming this late, will IBB’s book be worth the wait? Will he give honest answers to the many puzzles that dogged his administration or is this a mere attempt to burnish his image and rewrite history as he prepares for the final phase of his life? It’s been a generation since Gen. Babangida hurriedly put together a contraption called interim national government and left office after an eight-year deceptive dictatorship. His transition programme was a farce, illusory and wasteful’’.

I have just finished reading the book, and I must confess that I was not prepared for the scale of obfuscations and revisionisms embedded in it, and in no other section is this more obvious than the one on the Dele Giwa assassination. Babngida claims that Giwa was killed as ‘’part of a series of booby traps and acts of destabilization being hatched against (his) administration’’ and it was meant as a ‘’political blow to the young military administration’’. He says the insinuations that the parcel bomb had emanated from ‘’the headquarters of the administration as cheap and foolish’’, asking: ‘’why would an officially planned high-level assassination carry an apparent forwarding address of the killer?’’.

 In other words, IBB is arguing that, if indeed, the military or his government had dispatched the bomb, the parcel would not have borne the coat of arms and the words ‘’From the C-in-C’’. He blames Newswatch management for frustrating police investigation by ‘’recourse to play to the gallery of public sentiment’’, and noted that “the involvement of high-profile lawyer Gani Fawehinmi and the populist slant given to the case by the media poisoned the investigation with political overtones. The investigation into the Giwa murder became part of the tools in the armour of a growing political opposition targeted at discrediting the military over the planned political transition programme and human rights issues’’. 

This is as specious as you can possibly get; and to blame the management of Newswatch, and Gani Fawehinmi (who died many years ago) is to say the least very cruel. Many Nigerians are still convinced that the régime and/or the military authorities were complicit in the murder of Giwa. No civilian individual or organization had the technology, capability and sophistication to deliver a parcel bomb in Nigeria of 1986; and even as I write, the technique of packing explosives into a package; wrapping, sealing and delivering it to the intended receiver, in such a way that it could only explode when opened is a complicated technique available only to military and security authorities. That is why parcel bombs have not been used to settle scores with all the political assassinations we have had since 1999. The idea that Giwa’s murder was all ‘’bobby traps’’ and a ‘’political blow’’ meant to destabilize the régime suggests that Babangida knows more than he’s telling us. As experts often tell us, understanding the motive could be crucial to solving a crime.

In the days leading up to the assassination, Giwa was thoroughly hounded, harassed and hunted by the officials of the military intelligence. He was falsely accused of gun running and other heinous crimes. Afraid for his safety and security, Giwa reported the matter to his lawyer and senior government officials, but the snare had already been set up for him. The parcel was delivered to him a day after a military intelligence officer called Giwa’s home and asked for the address; and Giwa’s wife, Fumi, who took the call, innocently obliged the caller. Curiously, IBB omitted this damning sequence of events in his book.

That the parcel bore the seal of the government was just a clever ploy to deceive the recipient into opening the package. The planners of the plot had known that since Giwa was in regular contact with the President, and had previously received letters from the government; such an insignia on the package would be a convincing reason for him to open it. The aim was to kill him at all cost.

 I have spoken to Ray Ekpu, the editor-in-chief of Newswatch, and he’s promised to issue a statement on IBB’s claims after consulting Dan Agbese; Yakubu Mohammed and their lawyers. I look forward to reading their rejoinder, and Ekpu’s autobiography set for publication next year. I am sure he will tell the Giwa story more truthfully.

Another disturbing aspect of the book is Babangida blaming Sani Abacha for the annulment of the June 12 election. He claims that the election was annulled by forces loyal to Sani Abacha while he, IBB, was in Katsina to visit with the Yara’Adua family that had just lost its patriarch. The government and the military were polarized and split in the middle with some officials opting for the annulment while others were against it. He stated he was afraid for his life and safety and believed that Abacha was ready to lead a coup and assassinate him and/ Abiola. Babangiga concludes that it was Abacha that deceived Abiola into rejecting his offer to be head of the interim government he was setting up.

By blaming his failure to handover and conclude the eight-year transition on Sani Abacha, IBB appears as a coward who could not rein in on a fearsome fiend. In one breath, he commends Abacha for his loyalty and sparing his life in two instances, and in another, he presents Abacha as an evil, power drunk officer who was desperate to torpedo the transition programme and plunge the country into turmoil in order to take power. If IBB knew this much about him, why was Abacha not retired? It is a reasonable assumption that the two might have entered into a pact to let Abacha take over after IBB had ‘’stepped aside’’.

Babangida’s accounts of the Giwa murder and the annulment of the June 12 election nearly rendered the whole volume distasteful. But it’s a good reading, rich in history, and well researched and written. I suspect that that it was ghost-written by Yemi Ogunbiyi and Chidi Amuta, two of Nigeria’s outstanding journalists, who are well acknowledged by the author for their support. In fact, IBB’s book has a striking similarity in style and language to Ogunbiyi’s memoire, The Road Never Forgets, published in 2022.

•Why President Tinubu deserves commendation

PRIOR to Nigeria’s Independence in 1960, agriculture was the mainstay of its economy, even as reflected in the economic activities of the regions there were in the country at that time. Famous stories of the First Republic chronicled how the defunct regions were reliant on revenues from the groundnut pyramids in the North, the cocoa export receipts from the defunct West and the rubber as well as palm oil proceeds from the East.

With the discovery of crude oil in commercial quantities, beginning from Oloibiri in the present-day Bayelsa State in 1956, agriculture, over time, became supplanted by black gold in terms of contributions to national revenue pool. And not only did crude oil receipts ride the wave as far as the total collectable revenue was concerned, the Nigerian National Petroleum Corporation (NNPC), became the cornerstone entity for the three tiers of government to look up to for salvation in terms of their fiscal projections.

However, those days when the federal, states and local government councils wait zealously for revenue figures from NNPC have not only receded into the past but appear to have gone for good. At the monthly meeting of the Federation Account Allocation Committee (FAAC), focus has shifted to the Federal Inland Revenue Service (FIRS), the goose that is laying the golden egg for the fiscal stability and wellbeing of the Federation.

For those who may not know, the ‘cake’ shared monthly by the Federation is baked by four major entities: NNPC, FIRS, the Nigerian Upstream Petroleum Regulatory Commission (NUPRC), formerly known as Department of Petroleum Resources (DPR) and the Nigeria Custom Service (NCS).

Of the body of ‘bakers,’ FIRS under Zacch Adedeji has emerged the cream of the crop, singlehandedly and aggregately accounting for close to 70 percent of the total revenues collected and shared by the three tiers of government at FAAC meetings in 2024.

 
 

Out of N2.068 trillion that accrued to the Federation Accounts in January 2024, tax collected by FIRS accounted for more than 50 percent with the agency’s contribution totalling N1.275 trillion. The other three revenue-remitting bodies jointly raked in the balance. While oil receipts from NNPC brought N115billion, NUPRC grossed N469.8billion, just as the Nigeria Custom Service remitted N207 billion.

The contribution of FIRS to the pool grew in February by N300billion from what it brought to the account in January. From the N2.3trillion that accumulated into the account, takings by FIRS amounted to N1.491 trillion, a collection figure that was more than 50 percent of the total revenue for the month. In fact, NNPC’s contribution to the pool was just N92billion. NUPRC and NCS contributed N487billion and N254billion, respectively.

In March, FIRS contributed N1.061trillion out of N1.867 trillion in the pool and in April, the Federation Account got N1.187 trillion from FIRS out of the N2.192trillion revenue accrual. For May, out of the N2.324trillion shared by the three tiers of government, FIRS alone contributed N1.571trillion.

The last month in the first half of 2024 finished on a strong note for the Federation in terms of the size of the ‘cake’ available for sharing among the three tiers of government. Of the N3.5 trillion accrual in the Federation Account for the month, FIRS accounted for N2.841 trillion. Contributions from NNPC for the month was N8.3 billion with NUPRC and NCS remitting N402.5 billion N264 billion, respectively.

The upward trajectory of FIRS contribution to the Federation Account continued at the beginning of the second half of the year. It accounted for N2.295 trillion out of N3.508 trillion remitted into the Federation Account for July, representing 65.4 percent of the total haul. For August, FIRS figure for FAAC was N1.87 trillion out of the N2.7 trillion in the pool. In September, October, November, and December the agency’s contributions were N1.45trillion (out of N2.4trilion), N1.74trillion (out of N2.9) and N1.56trillion (out of N2.8trillion) and N1.41trillion (out of NN2.2trillion), respectively.

The significance of FIRS contributions displacing oil receipts and turning tax revenue into the country’s new ‘crude oil’ has been well situated by the Accountant General of the Federation, Dr (Mrs) Oluwatoyin Madein. At an event in Abuja, she declared: “Tax revenue, as of today, is the highest source of revenue accruing to the Federation. Therefore, at FAAC meetings, we eagerly await the numbers coming from FIRS because the performance of the agency keeps on increasing and this brings succour to all tiers of government.”

Putting FIRS contribution to FAAC revenue pool in 2024 in context, we will see how it has helped the three tiers of government to plan, project and experience fiscal stability. There is nothing like fiscal discipline except you have accurate revenue prediction. If you say you want to spend N10, that means you must assurance that the N10 will come from somewhere. This commendable collection performance is in tandem with Adedeji’s vision of making taxation the pivot of national development.

What did FIRS do differently?

The impressive revenue collection posted by FIRS is not a product of happenstance. It is the outcome of a well-thought-out strategy and process re-engineering that formed the bedrock of a cocktail of administrative and process reforms embarked upon by the agency under Adedeji. One of his key refrains is that if FIRS is going to succeed in its critical national mandate of domestic revenue mobilisation, taxpayers must beat the centre of all policies and initiatives of the agency.

The FIRS chairman summarised the restructuring and re-orientation that powered the huge revenue collection and turned it to a customer-centric agency thus: “We restructured our operations at FIRS in such a way that we are now effectively carrying out our duty of assessing, collecting and accounting for taxes. We used to have functional types of taxes, but we have since identified that the only customers we have are the taxpayers. We have, therefore, improved the way we relate with our customers by rearranging our operations based on our customers, using their turnover as the basis to categorise them into large, medium, and emerging tax groups. 

“We did this to develop expertise in what we do. Secondly, to provide them with a one-stop shop for their activities. If you are in a large tax group, you only need to go to one office to pay all forms of taxes, including conducting audit and other activities. You do not need to move from one office to another again.

“We are here to serve the taxpayers. The taxpayers are not armed robbers or criminals that we will be chasing about. FIRS is also not a law enforcement organisation. We are partners in progress. The taxpayers are the trees in our vineyard. The only thing we can do is to ensure they are well watered and well pruned so they can bear good fruits for us to have big harvest.

Because of the streamlining of tax processes, the removal of hurdles in the way of tax payment as well placing a high premium on transparency and accountability, a total number of 182, 724 new taxpayers, representing 25.3% increase, voluntarily enrolled on the agency’s tax administration platform called Tax Pro-Max in 2024. It is the single biggest leap in the number of firms in the tax net in recent history of the tax agency. This not only underscores the level of trust reposed in the new processes emplaced at the agency. It also lends credence to Adedeji’s sharp vision of making the agency one of the world’s most efficient and trusted revenue authorities.

The president, Lagos Chamber of Commerce and Industry (LCCI), Mr Gabriel Idahosa, testified to the unusual transformation witnessed at FIRS. Idahosa commended the agency for conducting reforms that align with the needs of businesses, particularly singling out the increasing use of technology in tax administration as well as the shift in mental geography of tax officers from being mere tax collectors to “actively providing services that enhance business operations.” 

One key import of the unprecedented growth in tax revenue for the Federation is that the non-oil sector account for about 75% of the total haul. This clearly signposts the commitment of the President Bola Tinubu-led administration to truly diversify the economy from its mono-product, crude oil. According to Adedeji, all accolades for the impressive tax collection by FIRS should go to President Tinubu. Of a truth, two key policies by the President, namely the removal of fuel subsidy and unification of the exchange rate gave fillip to the record tax revenue collection by FIRS. The negative consequences of not setting these economic fundamentals at the time President Tinubu did would have unbearable for an economy that was already in ICU before President Tinubu assumed office.

Despite the laudable achievements of the agency since assumption of office in September 2023, Adedeji is not resting on his oars. He believes the success recorded so far is just a beginning with his key fiscal focus being on growing Nigeria’s tax-to-GDP ratio to 18% in the next three years. This, he believes, is achievable without putting additional burden on the taxpayers but by making the pie bigger to collect more revenue for government at all levels to be able to meet their obligations to the citizenry.

For him, there is irreducible minimum if the upward tax revenue trajectory must continue. “We can play with everything, but what we cannot afford to play with, if we are going to succeed, are data and merit,” he once said.

It needs to be said that prior to Adedeji’s leadership, the agency’s contribution to FAAC had been growing. However, the coming of Adedeji has moved the quantum significantly higher through a potpourri of internal administrative and process reforms he introduced, leading to simplifying of tax payment.

For 2025, FIRS is targeting to collect N25.2 trillion in tax revenue and this means more money for the three tiers of government to meet their needs. This is another reason why there should be no opposition to the tax reform bills currently before the National Assembly. If FIRS could post these huge records in a shortly time, breaking its own records and setting higher target and goals, a tax system that is modernised and fit for purpose can only add impetus to the task of domestic revenue mobilisation given to FIRS.

For those asking the question: where does tax revenue by FIRS go? The answer is this: every month that the federal, states and local government councils gather in Abuja for FAAC meeting and money shared accordingly, about 70% of that money comes from the tax revenue FIRS collects from taxpayers.

For perceptive observers, President Tinubu deserves to be hailed for the huge jump in shareable FAAC allocations which continue the upward swing since his assumption of office. All the states now collect almost three times of what they used to get as FAAC allocation prior to the coming of the Tinubu administration. Every month, managers of the three tiers smile to the banks, thanks to the President’s courageous leadership.

  • Adekanmbi is the Special Adviser on Media to the executive chairman, Federal Inland Revenue Service (FIRS)

Across the globe, democracy has become the most popular system of government because under it, persons in power are elected by the people to represent them in government thus establishing that the people own the government and that power belongs to the people. No matter how benevolent a dictator may be, it is unreasonable for anyone to impose himself on a people as their ruler – a point clearly against military rule in Nigeria.

But over the years, many people have been misled into believing that democracy is the same as civilian rule. In reality however, the two concepts are not coterminous because many persons under a civilian government do behave like military rulers who hardly subscribe to the democratic tenets of freedom, equality, due process and the rule of law.

Today in Nigeria, not every citizen shares the enthusiasm of the political class that the worst form of democracy is better than the best form of dictatorship. Many people are indeed unhappy with our current democracy in which actors work against the due process of law. In the last couple of days, many events clearly confirm this assertion. A good example is the unending defection of elected office holders from one political party to the other. To start with, it is untidy to see a trend towards a one-party state where lawmakers elected under the platform of an opposition party decamp to the ruling party at federal and state levels.  Yet, the law deprecates the act and requires that those affected should lose their seats – a rule no one obeys.

In a democracy, defectors would not be seen using legal technicalities, to get judicial backing with an argument such as that their parties had been broken into ‘irreconcilable’ factions, hence they needed to seek more viable platforms. Whereas the argument helps political jobbers to get off the hook, the trend does not strengthen democracy because there is no political party in Nigeria without rancour. A dispute among members of a party only calls for resolution, not defection as the voters never endorsed the new parties which such erstwhile representatives now desire. This is better appreciated when it is remembered that Nigerian law says it is parties that win votes.

How rational is it that a person wins an election on the platform of party X and for personal reasons moves the mandate to party Y?  Indeed, how does one explain the fact whereby some federal legislators defected from the so-called factitious Labour Party at the federal level while some other opposition lawmakers defected to the same Labour Party in Abia state only because the party controls the majority in the state House of Assembly? The truth therefore is that Nigerian politicians have no strong political principles that can keep them in their original parties; they are consistently involved in mercantile political carpet crossing thereby whittling down democracy. The trend is certainly a threat to true democracy and good governance in Nigeria.

As far back as 2018, Professor Attahiru Jega, former electoral commission boss had revealed that the political class is more responsible for the inability of Nigeria’s democracy to grow. This is easy to see in what is playing out at the Lagos State House of Assembly. It is true that legislators are empowered by law to elect or remove a speaker for the House but why did the Lagos state legislators choose to timidly remove speaker Mudashiru Obasa while the House was officially on recess? Was the official procedure for reconvening the House duly followed? The clerk of the House, Olalekan Onafeko known to be a strong loyalist of Obasa was also summarily removed. Being a public servant who is subject to rules of discipline that are different from those of politicians, why was he removed along with Obasa?

 As we argued two weeks ago, by electing a new speaker from the same zone as the current governor, the legislators tilted power to one direction of the state thereby ignoring the need to ensure the balance of political offices across the state.  If Obasa was involved in misappropriation of funds is his removal the prescribed punishment for such a criminal offence? When will Obasa who has been so accused be prosecuted or given a chance to defend himself? It is shocking that some people expected Obasa not to fight back. He has since done so by mobilizing the instrument of coercion to reinstate himself against the wishes of his legislator colleagues. Those who are unable to comprehend Obasa’s ‘intransigence’ have only failed to realize that Obasa is able to act as he wishes because our democracy is yet to be institutionalized.

Last week, members of the All-Progressives Congress APC in Osun state invaded the local government secretariats in the state and expelled the Peoples Democratic Party councillors and chairmen from office. According to the APC, their action was informed by their own interpretation of a court ruling in their favour against their opponents. Before the invasion, Governor Ademola Adeleke abandoned dancing briefly to raise an alarm about the coming disaster. It is either he was ignored, or no one heard his alarm to prevent the unfortunate tragedy. Painfully, the invasion led to the death of some Osun citizens with casualty figures that have more than one version. But must Nigerians die so that some of their fellow citizens can assume office in a self-acclaimed democratic country where some leaders say their political ambition is not worth anyone’s blood?

While still counting the dead, the same Osun state was busy with another major political event – local government elections in the state. Rather than tarry a while and honour the dead, an Ilesha High court gave the state ‘independent’ electoral commission under the leadership of Barrister Hashim Abioye the nod some 24 hours earlier to continue with the elections. The two main challenges raised by Chairman Abioye concerning the elections were: first, that the commission’s office in Osogbo was sealed off by personnel of the Nigeria Police and second that due to the harassment and arrests of his officials by police personnel his commission was unable to conduct polls in some polling units. These challenges notwithstanding, the ruling PDP as expected ‘won’ the elections in all the 30 local government areas and 332 wards in the state.

The election could never have gone otherwise because local government elections in Nigeria are usually ‘swept’ by the ruling party. No matter the ruling party in any state, the results would have taken the same pattern because although our electoral bodies are supposed to be neutral umpires, they are usually made up of friends, families and political associates of the ruling party who often ignore rules and the due process of law. This visibly played out in Benue state the other week when Governor Hyacinth Alia and his House of Assembly members served as accusers, prosecutors and judges in a case in which the two arms of government wanted to remove the state’s Chief Judge (CJ), Justice Maurice Ikpambase.   

The governor reportedly wrote a petition against the CJ to the State House of Assembly which was immediately approved by a majority of legislators without following due process. It is strange that despite several precedents in states such as Kwara, Abia, Rivers, Plateau and Ekiti states, Benue politicians did not know that without the concurrence of the National Judicial Council NJC, no one is allowed to remove a CJ or indeed, any judge from office. It would appear that the political class in Benue relied essentially on a political solution rather than established rules and guidelines. They didn’t stop there. They also suspended 13 of their colleagues who dissociated themselves from the plot to remove the state’s Chief Judge.

Interestingly, almost every year our legislators find cause to suspend one or more of their members without remembering that each of such suspensions has always been quashed by the courts. The stand of the Judiciary makes sense because considering that a legislature consists of representatives from all areas, should anyone be empowered to undermine some areas by suspending their representatives? Besides, since the majority had their way why couldn’t the minority have their say? Instead of answering the question, it appears easier to plead with our political class to desist from actions that stultify our democracy. As the famous social scientist, Professor McKenzie once warned, “if the rules limiting the struggle for power are not observed more or less faithfully, the game will disappear amid the wreckage of the whole system.”

 

 

“Old age is now a moving concept” – American Sociology Professor, 1967.

It was in my third year as an undergraduate, when taking a course on demographics, that Professor Epstein made the remark to introduce us to demographics – defined as “the study of statistics such as births, deaths, income, or the incidence of disease, which illustrate the changing structure of human populations.”

The course was recommended by my academic advisor as a complimentary addition to Economics. It made no sense to me. Births and deaths were cut and dried things. You are born one day; you die one day and only God knows how long between the first and the second. Prof also informed us that we were part of a generation called “the Baby Boomers”; meaning kids born during or immediately after World War II which claimed the lives of over 50 million globally.

The world seemed depleted of people. Factories were in frantic search of workers; hospitals lacked adequate staff. Anybody who could lift a finger had a job. The young men and women who survived the war went about procreating with uncommon zeal. By 1955, ten years after the war, the children born between 1940 and 1950 had become the largest population group in the world.

Even then, the life expectancy in most countries was under 60. In Africa and Asia, it was under 50. Most of us in sub-Saharan Africa, where births were not often recorded, grew up to regard anyone 50 as old. Improvements in health services, personal care, and dietary intake gradually moved life expectancy up everywhere. More people are living longer and working longer than at the beginning of the last century. However, because of perceived diminishing productivity as people became older, it became necessary to establish retirement age; to allow the old and feeble to go and rest and to create room for young job seekers. Nigeria has followed the global pattern by setting 60 as retirement age. 

At first, few workers attained 60 before dying. My father did not live long to retire from service; and I recollect three of his friends and co-workers who were carried out of office feet first. In fact, no male child in my own family lived long enough to be retired at 60. So 60 was a good peg in the early 1950s.

However, unknown to us, Nigeria had also joined the global change in demographic structures. Starting with the generation before our own, Nigeria’s Baby boomers have become the first generation of Nigerians for who 60 is just the beginning of life. Today, at 80+, I am creating a new record everyday for somebody else to break in my family. Whereas my Dad was called Baba in his 50s, nobody calls my four nephews, now 60+ Baba. Nigeria is now suddenly full of men and women 60 years and they more vigorous than my Dad at 55.

Need for Redefinition of Old Age

“You are as old as you feel.”

Many of us have heard that statement before; usually from very active old men and women. To the younger ones, it might appear like an excuse by veterans not wanting to quit the stage. To be quite candid, I felt the same way when an uncle swore to an affidavit in the Magistrate Court, Tinubu, Lagos Island, to reduce his age by three years to avoid retirement. “Go and rest Uncle”, was my advice to him. He was retired anyway on account of length of service. Then something horrible happened.

Living on the Island, but, working at Apapa Port, the man who hitherto got up at 5am to prepare for work and was ever punctual for 7am, had nothing to do anymore. Within months he was a mere shadow of his former self and died a drunkard. Since then, I have been questioning our insistence that people should retire at 60. Granted, the Federal Government has granted some exemptions in the public service. Commendable as that might be, it has not addressed the burning question of demographic shift which has resulted in a situation in which millions of Nigerians, aged 60, still vigorous are compulsorily retired from service. Only Non-Government Organisations and religious bodies extend retirement ages beyond 60. We are creating a lot of devil’s workshops.

Pa Adebanjo and Clark as Examples of Way Forward 

“Aging is not lost youth but a new stage of opportunity and strength.

Extremely few Nigerian leaders – Prime Minister, Presidents (Military or Civilian), Premiers, Governors – since 1914 have had the lasting grip on our national political life as Pa Ayo Adebanjo and Edwin Clark who passed away three days apart last month. As if by mutual agreement, the two strongest advocates of true federalism, resource control by states and the call for a new constitution not only left us, but, left a big hole in our polity. As a strong believer in the notion that there are no indispensable men, and there are some obvious candidates to fill the gaps, I must nevertheless admit that it will be very difficult for any successors to have the same impacts as the two. To some extent, the fault for the leadership vacuum created by them was as much their fault as ours. 

Those of us who subscribed to their vision of the fundamentals of the best governance for Nigeria got accustomed to leaving it to the grand old men to courageously speak up whenever governments went astray – as we all agree they often did. To save our own skins, we sub-contracted the opposition to atrocious governance to them. They seldom failed us. Because another article will be published highlighting their achievements, permit me to stop here and address one of their lasting legacies to fellow Nigerians.

Chief Adebanjo died at 95-plus and Chief Edwin Clark at 97 – both of them, from statements from members of their families, still working, preparing for important meetings and writing addresses to be delivered at several engagements. No demographer could have envisaged that eventuality. To be candid, I tremble each time there was a meeting with Chief Adebanjo; who was known to me as far back as 1961 in Ibadan.

At the time, my eldest brother, later called Daddy after our father died, was the Private Secretary to the late Alhaji Adegbenro, who was then-Minister for Lands and Labour in the Western Regional Government. Daddy was an Awoist from the beginning to the end in 1990. Meanwhile, our father was a die-hard Zikist till the end of his days in 1958. Of all the strongest Awoists, Chief Adebanjo was the only one known to me who never aspired to public office and who never sought appointment to office. He was contented to be the “gate keeper” of the principles on which Afenifere stood. On several occasions, he had said to me: “Dele come and join Afenifere; we need people like you to take over after we are gone.” My answer was always the same: “We can’t all be in politics.” He would get angry and attend to me all the same.

What astonished me the most, when visiting him in his chambers in the Western House, was the enormous amount of work he undertook each day; the number of cases to which he attended. I was certain he would slow down by the time he reached 70. My visit to his office to wish him happy birthday at 80 disabused my mind about the man retiring. There were more case files than when he was 70. It was then that it finally dawned on me that for some individuals retirement is only a word found in the dictionary of lazy and self-indulgent people.

The late Chief Edwin Clark became synonymous with PANDEF by the time he passed on. Fortuitously, I was there at the creation of the Forum in 2016. What is PANDEF? The description that follows is as good as any. “The new vision for the Niger Delta was launched in 2016, following engagements with leaders and representatives for the region, under the aegis of the Pan Niger Delta Development Forum (PANDEF).” But, there is more to PANDEF; which the description did not and could not explain, as well as how Chief Clark became its co-leader in principle but, its known leader in fact.

Briefly stated, PANDEF was formed when Buhari’s Federal Government decided to re-visit the Petroleum Industry Bill, PIB, which President Yar’Adua and Jonathan started but lacked the guts to finish. The Bill aimed to liberalise and privatise the entire oil sector. The original PIB (PIB 1), proposed by Yar’Adua, was extremely flawed; it gave the International Oil Companies, IOCs, all the advantages. Without going into details, I can claim some credit for getting it killed in the National Assembly, NASS. PIB 2, presented by Jonathan, was even more scandalous; it gave the President of Nigeria wide powers over the sector.

PIB 2 was also left untouched by the NASS till the end of GEJ’s tenure in 2015. When the Buhari government embarked on the PIB reform bill, it was clear to me that, unless the Niger Delta made its wishes known, the sector would wind up in Northern hands as it has now. The only Niger Delta leader known to me was Attah; and it was Attah, who, after listening to my concern, initiated a meeting with Chief Clark. It was that meeting which resulted in the formation of PANDEF. Clark and Attah were appointed co-Chairmen. But, Attah, out of respect for age, had allowed Chief Clark to act as sole Chairman.

The most important thing readers should remember is that, at the age of 88, Chief Clark was adding another monumental assignment to his bulging portfolio in 2016. I knew on that day that the bar on retirement age had just been raised.  

 

Pardon my ignorance. I would have sworn that the telecoms sector was deregulated until the federal government quickly held a meeting with the leaders of the Nigeria Labour Congress (NLC) after they served a strike notice over the approved 50 percent increase in telephone tariffs. That was when it dawned on me that unlike in the downstream petroleum sector, government is still involved in fixing prices in the telecoms. After the meeting, a committee was set up to look into the new tariffs approved by the Nigerian Communications Commission (NCC). It brought back memories of the days of fuel price hikes when unions would go on strike and government would meet with their leaders.

Pardon my ignorance again. I didn’t even know that the last time telcos increased their tariffs was in 2013. No, I’ve not been living in another world, but there are too many things to battle with in Nigeria and phone tariff was the least of my worries. As an entrepreneur in my own corner, I’ve been more bothered about diesel price, which was N200/litre 12 years ago but now N1,200. A litre of petrol that was N97 in 2013 is now north of N900. Minimum wage that was N18,000 has quadrupled to N70,000. A Lagos-Abuja flight ticket was N25,000 but is now in excess of N100,000. Operating expenses have risen dramatically for all businesses but I just didn’t pay attention to phone tariffs.

I operate mainly in the printing and publishing business. The book we used to print for N10,000 per copy two years ago now costs up to N20,000. How much are we going to sell it? What will happen if booksellers adjust the price to N22,000 and readers embark on a protest? Will the federal government order them to sell at N12,000 when it has not ordered expenses to come down? The costs of materials and freighting plus customs charges and logistics have headed for the skies in the last two years — riding on the back of the devaluation of the naira and removal of subsidies on petrol and power. What business can survive on pre-2023 prices, much less on tariffs dating back to 2013?

I also run an online newspaper, TheCable, which I founded in 2014. We are lucky we do not incur the kind of operating expenses that printed newspapers have to bear, but we are not enjoying paradise either. For one, we pay for servers and subscriptions in dollars. When we started out, the exchange rate was averagely N165/$. Now we are paying for these services at N1,500/$. Even if they charge us in local currency, we will still pay the naira equivalent. The bills for news gathering and investigations, including flights and hotels, have more than tripled since we launched. The wage bill has gone up in multiple folds. Can our advertisers reasonably insist on paying the same advert rates of 2014?

Sometimes, I wonder how printed newspapers make money in Nigeria, given the enormous costs and stress of running a printing press, importing inks, plates, blankets, spare parts and newsprint, paying high energy bills, keeping distribution vans running on Nigeria’s potholes daily — in addition to flying copies to far-flung places — and still paying salaries. It is hellish. I know what I am saying. I have spent the whole of my adult life in this industry. I went into printing and publishing business in 1996, about three years after I started my journalism career. Thank God, it has put a roof over my head and still pays my bill, but the margins are growing south as the costs head north mercilessly.

Every business makes reasonable adjustments as costs soar. The trader selling garri adjusts the price in response to costs. The mechanic adjusts charges in response to inflation. That is why I just assumed that the telcos had also been making adjustments — until I realised recently that the last time they were allowed to do so was in 2013. Wow. They have over 40,000 base stations across Nigeria, each powered by two diesel generators in a 24/7 relay race to protect the equipment from fluctuating current. How much were they spending on diesel in 2013? How much today? Is this why my village people get inconsistent service? The telcos probably think the revenue cannot buy diesel!

In truth, I never expected that anyone would think telcos are operating in a different world and are, therefore, not affected by these stinging economic realities. Do we honestly think everybody else can adjust their prices except the telcos, even though they claim their operating expenses have gone up by over 300 percent in the last two years? Airtel Africa posted a net loss of $89 million in the 2023/2024 financial year — blamed mostly on the devaluation of the naira. In 2024, MTN Nigeria, the biggest of them all, posted a N514.9bn loss in nine months. Globacom is a private company so we are not entitled to the details of their finances, but there is no way they also are not taking a hit. Same could be said of 9mobile, which is neither alive nor dead — although for a different reason.

I understand that phone services are now considered as critical to the livelihood of the poor and there is a need to make sure things are not out of their reach. However, while the price of yam can grow wild and the cost of onions can make us shed tears, the unions do not go on strike or issue a deadline for reversal. Petrol is over N900/litre and we have moved on with our lives by accepting the realities of a deregulated market and adjusting accordingly — but we are ready to spit fire and brimstone because 500MB data that was N500 in 2013 has risen to N750 in 2025. I am probably comparing apples and oranges since the telecoms’ market is somewhat different, but it is what it is.

Nevertheless, there are issues being opened up by the tariff tango. To begin with, subscribers often experience poor quality of service. It could be very frustrating. Even though I am not a tech expert, I always guess that a major part of the problem would be a lack of the needed investment in network upgrade. Operators complain about frequent fibre optic cable cuts resulting from road construction, in addition to multiple taxation, vandalism and challenges in acquiring a right of way which are impeding infrastructural upgrade. I do not wish to downplay these challenges, but the subscriber wants quality service, not quality excuse. Why should they eagerly pay more for poor services?

I see this tango as an opportunity to tackle a number of issues affecting the sector. On the one hand, the grievances of subscribers need to be addressed. If subscribers are going to pay more, they also deserve more. They don’t want to be shouting “hello hello hello” every time they make a call. On the other hand, the obstacles confronting the telcos must be addressed as well. Fibre optic cable cuts during road construction immediately impact quality of service. I have been thinking loudly that Nigeria must be one of the few countries in the country where telcos suffer these fibre cuts. Should we assume that road builders are not provided with the geo-physical maps before they start work?

I see a problem of co-ordination here. For every road construction, there should be communication between the government agency that awarded the contract, the contractor and the operators. You just can’t start excavating a road without knowing what is in its belly. The best practice across the world is to go through the geo-physical maps to know where the pipelines and ducts are laid. We do things anyhow in Nigeria, so this doesn’t really mean anything to us. I have seen water pipes being burst by earth equipment because somebody did not do their homework. Some construction companies cut fibre optic cables and don’t bother to inform the operators for remedial action.

Also, something doesn’t sound right in the Nigerian Communications Act and this is an opportunity to correct it. The law empowers the NCC to have the final say on tariffs. Section 108 says: “(1) Holders of individual licences shall not impose any tariff or charges for the provision of any service until the Commission has approved such tariff rates and charges except as otherwise provided in this Part. (2) The licensees specified in subsection (1) of this section shall provide services at the tariff rates and charges so approved by the Commission and shall not depart therefrom without prior written approval by the Commission of such proposed changes in tariff rates and charges.”

Something is wrong with this. In a truly deregulated market, it is not the job of the regulator to determine tariffs, either floor or ceiling. The NCC should be enforcing technical standards and ensuring satisfactory service. The Federal Competition and Consumer Protection Commission (FCCPC), working closely with the NCC, should ensure that there are no unfair pricing practices, such as collusion. Alternatively, there should be a pricing mechanism indexed against certain metrics, such as inflation, to avoid the kind of situation where tariffs have to be adjusted sharply rather than in bits. If government is no longer approving the prices of petrol, so why should it fix call tariffs?

Finally, since the mobile phone revolution started over 20 years ago, telcos have become the cash cows. In a sense, they have become victims of their own success. Everybody is looking up to them for revenue. Every tier of government is trying to feast on them. Some states have seized the chance to bolster their IGR. The sector has also contributed immensely to the GDP. A lot of things ride on their services today — banking transactions, security infrastructure, etc. It is, therefore, in everybody’s interest for the goose that lays the golden egg to remain alive and kicking. Tariff is just one of the needed adjustments to keep the sector in good health. Service quality is another. It can be a win-win.

AND FOUR OTHER THINGS…

AKPOTI VS AKPABIO

We are entering a new season in the “Netflix Original” screening at the Nigerian senate and starring Senate President Godswill Akpabio and Senator Natasha Akpoti-Uduaghan. In the first season, Akpabio fired potshots at Akpoti-Uduaghan, saying senate is not a “night club”. In the second season, she opened fire on Akpabio for changing the seating arrangement and taking her away from the cameras which she said help with visibility in the red chamber. On Friday, she opened a new act in an Arise interview. “Mine is the case of a student being punished by a lecturer for refusing to sleep with him,” she said. Why am I thinking this whole drama will end in suspension and apologies? Anticlimax.

VIVA LA VISA!

There was confusion over Nigeria’s visa on arrival policy recently when Hon Olubunmi Tunji-Ojo, the interior minister, said it was being scrapped. The problem is that visitors have to wait for hours at the airport to get the visa vignette. The good news, however, is that an improved process is on the way. In place of physical stickers, visitors will apply online and get an e-visa via email before arriving the country. “This aims to cut out inefficiencies, allowing Nigeria to better automate and control the inflow of travellers. This upgrade builds upon the existing online approval system, streamlining the process and enabling travellers to receive their approvals ahead of time,” Tunji-Ojo said. Lovely.

KEMI THE COCONUT

UK PM Keir Starmer aimed a loaded jibe at Mrs Kemi “Nigeria is hell” Badenoch, leader of the Conservative Party, on Wednesday. He had proposed a cut to international aid budget to beef up defence spending — an upcoming trend in Western countries in this Trumpian age. She then claimed credit for the idea, but Starmer fired back: “I’m going to have to let the leader of the opposition down gently. She didn’t feature in my thinking at all. I was so busy… I didn’t even see her proposal.” And then the clincher: “She has appointed herself saviour of the Western civilisation in a desperate search for relevance.” As they say in Warri, “Talk am go, talk am come, Saduwa na Bini man.” Ouch!

NO COMMENT

Lagos is fast becoming a case study in democratic decline. After 32 of the 40 state lawmakers voted to remove Rt Hon Mudashiru Obasa as speaker, he has refused to go. On Thursday, he conducted “plenary” with just four members. This was the same thing the APC used to condemn as an opposition party. Since Obasa thinks he was illegally removed, he should wait for the courts and not resort to self-help. Democracy can self-correct if we would allow it to work. Some people respect democracy only when the tide favours them. Meanwhile, after withdrawing the security of the new speaker, Rt Hon Mojisola Maranda, police came out to say it was only for audit purposes. Wonderful.

Although I love watching football, I am not a football fanatic. Each time I sit before the television, it is almost always going to be to watch one football match or the other. I don’t like watching movies. They seem to me a world of make-believe and illusion. They make me apprehensive over nothing. Besides, our home-grown movies are damn too amateurish. It is like much time, enough resources, and adequate intellect are not invested in them to make them world-class. The actors and producers appear too much in a hurry to hit the market. The storylines are usually not well exploited. The plots run with the speed of light. It is like the sole motivation is to quickly hit the market and make some quick bucks. Don’t they watch Mexican movies or soaps? Even the Indians are a million times better!

 

 Once upon a time I was addicted to watching movies, though. Practically every Nigerian, I presume, was equally addicted to watching Mexican movies like I did then. Those were the days when Paloma, Salvador and many other Mexican movies ruled the waves. I wouldn’t know whether they still do. Unfortunately, the timing clashed with when I had to go for church service or Holy Ghost service at the RCCG campground. On many occasions I missed going because I would say, “Let me watch a little”and, then, before I realised it, the whole time would be gone! Didn’t Proverbs 24:33-34 say, “Yet a little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to sleep: So shall thy poverty come as one that travelIeth; and thy want as an armed man”? My procrastination at the altar of Mexican movies took a little while before I received the grace to say “Enough”! I stopped subscribing! I also scrapped watching television entirely. I did not return until the addiction had completely drained out of my system.

 Addiction is of various kinds and shapes. Each, anyone, and everyone of it is not just bad; it is a torment. It is not just life-threatening; it is a veritable life-terminator. There was a time I was addicted to coffee – first thing when I woke up and the last thing before I retired to bed. There was another occasion when bread was my addiction – it was the dessert after every meal, even after a bowl of pounded yam! In my secondary school days, after a friend and classmate had introduced me to football pools staking, as we called it then, I got addicted to it, such that I played pool from Form Three through to Form Five and many years thereafter. Not less than five years of my adolescent and young adulthood life was wasted on playing football pools, pouring over forecast books – Willy Akinlude, Prince Willy Ehi Obinyan’s King and George forecast book – and a whole lot of “systems” of so-called “banker draws”! 

 Peer group influence or pressure is a potent danger to young, impressionistic minds. The first time I got to know what was called “asewo”, friends and classmates took me there! Where and how did they get those ideas into their head? And at such an early stage in life! Children sent to school at great costs by their parents to study! God have mercy! What do we know that our own children do today – those that we think are in school reading books? Anything that completely takes over your will-power to say ‘No” is an addiction.

 Singing about his own problem of addiction to booze, the South African reggae maestro, Lucky Dube, in “This is a song called Slave”, aptly described himself as having become a “slave” to liquor. Hear him:

 
 

 “Ministers of religion have visited me many times to talk about it/They say to me/I gotta leave it/I gotta leave it/It’s a bad habit for a man/But when I try/To leave it/My friends keep telling me, ’Fools, I’m fool’

 “Now I’m a slave/A slave/I’m a slave/Just a liquor slave/I’m a slave/A slave/Just a liquor slave

 “I have lost my dignity (that) I had before/Trying to please everybody/Some say to me yo yo/I look better when I’m drunk/Some say no no no/I look bad, you know/Sometimes I cry/Me alone I cry/My crying never helps me because now/I am a slave….

 “Every night when I’m coming back home/My wife gets worried because she knows/She’s got double trouble coming home/Sometimes I cry/I cry/My crying never helps me…”

 When someone is addicted, he is unable to help himself. His will-power is decimated to the point of irrelevance. Therefore, he needs a superior power; power that is outside of his own being, to be able to suppress and annihilate the forces of addiction urging him on. An addict appears free; he walks freely; acts, supposedly, freely, but in actual sense is under the compulsion, push, and power of something or someone else, which he has lost the ability and agility to resist. The soul may be willing but the flesh is weak (Matthew 26: 41).

 Says Jean Jacques-Rousseau: “Man is born free and everywhere in chains’. These are chains that ordinary eyes cannot see. Chains that are worse than prison walls. But I digress!

 Yes, I do watch football, but gone were the days when I had darling teams. ICCC Shooting Stars was my team. Up Sootin! That team is, today, a shadow of its old self. It is like Nigeria happened to it, as they say. In most things Nigerian, we lack the tenacity of purpose to carry success forward and build on it. The other day I watched with tears a gathering of the descendants of the man who started Nigeria’s first indigenous construction company – Oni and Sons. Where is the company today? If you investigate, Nigerians themselves must have been the ones who ran it aground. That is our tragedy. The same Nigerians eating up both indigenous and foreign businesses will turn around to blame the government for the soaring rate of unemployment!

 These days, most Nigerians openly and proudly declare and demonstrate their love, support, and commitment to foreign clubs! This is another facet of the stupidity and folly that have eaten deep into the fabrics of our society. Our language, tastes, culture, traditions, and religion have all been subverted by anything and everything foreign. Whenever I have to wear a suit and knot a tie in the searing sun to go to church, I wonder what is wrong with my own native “buba” and “soro”! Colonial mentality! Perverted values! In Burkina Faso (Land of the Upright), judges and lawyers have thrown away colonial wig and gown for traditional attires.

 So I was happy when our own Ademola Lookman, voted as the African Footballer of the Year 2024,  went to the crowning event resplendent in a Yoruba traditional attire. His Yorubaness, if I may call it that, was the icing on the cake for me. I doff my hat for that lad and I salute the parents that raised him. So, you can imagine my grief when this same boy was vilified by his coach for missing a penalty that everyone else had run away from taking. 

 Lookman’s up-to-date contributions to Atalanta are enough to make him a legend. In the game in question, he came in and immediately scored a goal, thus helping to change the tempo of the game in favour of his team, which had lost the first leg in which Lookman did not feature due to an injury. So, the chances of his team turning the table was uphill from the start. But it was unfortunate he lost the penalty. Had he scored, it would have further buoyed the confidence of the team and, who knows, maybe the world could have witnessed another Damian miracle! Therefore, the coach’s frustration is understandable, even if he can be accused of over-reacting.

 And this brings to mind an event that happened when I was a Senior Reporter with the Ibadan-based Sketch newspapers. I had been recently transferred to the Lagos office. One Sunday at about mid-day, the editor, Mr. Ademola Idowu (Bless his soul, O Lord!), called from Ibadan. “Where is Ayinde Teniola?”, he asked. Mr. Teniola aka Egbon ria (Our Elder Brother) was the City Editor. “He is yet to arrive, Sir!”, I responded. “Ok. Quickly go to the NNPC Head Office and file the story. The place is on fire!” NNPC Head Office was at Falomo, Lagos at the time. “And when Ayinde comes, tell him to call me. This was how he missed a story 10 years ago!”

 The story Mr. Teniola missed was the capture of Buka Suka Dimka, the mastermind of the abortive coup of February 13, 1976 that killed the then Head of State, Gen. Murtala Muhammed. I went, covered the story, and returned quickly to the office to file it to Ibadan. Egbon Ria, a typical Ijesha man, later breezed into the office straight from Ilesha where he had gone to spend the weekend. He confided in us his subordinates each time he had to travel; so we watched his back. He murmured when I told him what happened. He was the one who explained to me the story he missed 10 years ago as he threw up his arms in exasperation, recounting that the incident had continued to ceaselessly define his career, denying him his due at every turn.

 A similar incident happened when Chief Segun Osoba was the Managing Director of Daily Times. The Lagos State chapter of the Nigeria Bar Association had an event to which the media was invited. We were nearing the tail end of the event when the chapter’s publicity secretary, Mr. Dipo Jimilehin, signaled to me to quickly follow him. I tried to drag our photographer along but he insisted he must collect his own “brown envelope” before leaving!

 We drove in Mr. Jimilehin’s car. It was when we got to the Lagos University Teaching Hospital at Idi-Araba that he told me we were going to see the incarcerated Second Republic civilian governor of Ogun State, Chief Bisi Onabanjo aka Aiyekooto. When we got to his room, Onabanjo, clad in pyjamas and seated on his hospital bed, was packing a travelling bag. One of the civilian governors jailed by the Muhammadu Buhari military junta, Onabanjo’s health had deteriorated while in Buhari’s gulag. With the overthrow of Buhari and the coming to power of Ibrahim Babangida, with the humane Professor Olikoye Ransome-Kuti as the Health Minister, the coast was cleared for Onabanjo to seek medical treatment abroad.

The Daily Times, Nigeria’s most authoritative newspaper at the time, had reported that the former governor had already travelled abroad for treatment; whereas he yet had not. When my story came out with the Front Page headline: “Onabanjo travels today, says: I will foot my bill”, heads rolled at the Daily Times. The past heroics of the reporters concerned availed for nothing.

 There is a similar football incident involving Steven Gerrard, Liverpool’s captain and one footballer I admired so much; much for his good looks as for his football skills. There was this match that stood between Liverpool and the Premier league; Gerrard had discharged himself very well throughout the season and also in that particular match, but in the dying minutes of the game, he slipped while on the ball. An opponent took the ball from him and scored! I cannot say who was more devastated over that unfortunate incident between Gerrard and me.

 A story missed can define a journalist, ruining an otherwise excellent career. A penalty missed by Lookman has caused so much ripples. Says Mark Anthony in William Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar: the evil that men do live after them (but) the good is often interred with their bones! Not funny!