OTHERS' VIEWS

OTHERS' VIEWS

Nigeria, the most populous nation in Africa, is endowed with an abundance of natural resources, including crude oil, natural gas, coal, iron ore, and tin, among others. Despite being the largest oil producer in Africa and the 12th largest in the world, the country's citizens continue to grapple with the irony of fuel scarcity, high prices, and its far-reaching consequences on the economy and daily life. This article delves into the complexities of Nigeria's fuel situation, its impact on the citizens, and proposes solutions to address this perennial problem.

 
The Oil Paradox
 
Nigeria's oil industry, which accounts for approximately 90% of the country's foreign exchange earnings, has been a significant contributor to its economic growth. However, the benefits of this natural resource have not trickled down to the masses. The country's refineries operate below capacity, leading to a reliance on imported fuel to meet the demand. This dependence on imports, coupled with inadequate infrastructure and inefficient distribution networks, results in frequent fuel scarcity and high prices.
 
Consequences of Fuel Scarcity
 
The effects of fuel scarcity are multifaceted and far-reaching, impacting various sectors of the economy and daily life. Some of the consequences include:
 
1. Economic Contraction: Fuel scarcity leads to increased transportation costs, which in turn affect the prices of goods and services. This results in higher inflation rates, reduced economic growth, and decreased productivity.
 
2. Business Disruption: Fuel scarcity forces businesses to operate at reduced capacity or shut down temporarily, leading to lost revenue, reduced employment opportunities, and decreased economic activity.
 
3. Increased Transportation Fares: With fuel scarcity, transportation costs skyrocket, making it difficult for people to commute to work, school, or other essential activities.
 
4. Social Unrest: Fuel scarcity often leads to long queues at fuel stations, causing frustration and social unrest among citizens.
 
5. Environmental Impact: The reliance on generators and other alternative energy sources during fuel scarcity periods contributes to environmental pollution and health hazards.
 
6. Inefficient Resource Allocation: The focus on fuel importation and distribution diverts resources away from other critical sectors, such as education, healthcare, and infrastructure development.
 
Solutions to Nigeria's Fuel Plight
 
To address the fuel scarcity and high prices, Nigeria must adopt a multifaceted approach that involves short-term and long-term strategies.
 
Short-term Solutions:
 
1. Diversification of Energy Sources: Encourage the use of alternative energy sources like solar, wind, and hydroelectric power to reduce reliance on fossil fuels.
 
2. Improved Refinery Capacity: Invest in upgrading and expanding existing refineries to increase domestic fuel production and reduce import dependence.
 
3. Efficient Distribution Networks: Develop and maintain efficient fuel distribution networks to minimize transportation costs and reduce scarcity.
 
4. Fuel Subsidy Reform: Implement a targeted fuel subsidy program to benefit only the most vulnerable citizens, rather than the current blanket subsidy approach.
 
5. Price Regulation: Establish a price regulation mechanism to prevent arbitrary price hikes and ensure fair pricing.
 
Long-term Solutions:
 
1. Deregulation of the Downstream Sector: Encourage private sector participation in the refining, marketing, and distribution of petroleum products to promote competition and efficiency.
 
2. Investment in Infrastructure: Develop critical infrastructure, such as roads, railways, and waterways, to facilitate the transportation of fuel and reduce costs.
 
3. Renewable Energy Development: Invest in renewable energy sources, such as solar and wind power, to reduce dependence on fossil fuels and promote sustainable energy development.
 
4. Energy Conservation: Implement energy conservation measures, such as efficient lighting and appliances, to reduce energy consumption.
 
5. Human Capacity Development: Invest in education and training programs to develop the skills and expertise needed to manage the energy sector effectively.
 
Conclusion
 
Nigeria's fuel conundrum is a complex issue that requires a comprehensive approach to address. By implementing short-term and long-term solutions, the country can reduce its reliance on imported fuel, increase domestic production, and promote sustainable energy development. It is only by tackling this perennial problem that Nigeria can unlock its full economic potential and provide a better life for its citizens.

“Has the Ooni ever told the president that the worst road in the universe leads to his kingdom? Has he told the president that the N79.8 billion contract for the reconstruction of Ibadan-Ife-Ilesa road awarded in September, 2019 by his friend and villa mate, Muhammadu Buhari, has remained a contract for ghosts? Has he invited the president’s attention to the truth that since last year when he took over, the road has sunk even deeper in the mire of decrepitude? And, that even FERMA, a perennially rich agency that pretends giving palliatives on federal roads, has since seen the futility of stitching this rag? Or could it be that Kabiyesi does what our presidents since 1999 do – escaping road users’ pains by flying over our heads”?

One day, I will have the courage to ask the immaculate Ooni of Ife, Oba Enitan Ogunwusi, how he feels each time he travels on the horrible Ibadan-Ife road. Ben Okri, ‘The Famished Road’ storyteller, finds his own ‘road’ a torment – he says it “leads home and then away from it, without end.” Okri thinks the road a torment because he meets it “with too many signs and no direction.” The Ife-Ibadan road has signs, it has directions – and I find them very treacherously significant because they interlock fingers while road users lose life and limbs. The road has signs and directions to the very bowel of hell.

 

Olojo, the guardian divinity of the House of Oduduwa, is the famed owner of two machetes: with one machete, he prepares the field for the plants of tomorrow; with the other, he clears the road for prosperity (Ó fì’kan sán’ko/ Ó fì kan yè’nà). Those weapons must either now be blunt or lost. An Odu Ifa tells us something about Ile Ife and roads. It affirms that well-paved open roads start from Ile Ife. That affirmation today can only be treated on the operating theatre of irony. Could it be that truth has an expiry date and Ogbe’s truth of good, open roads in Ile Ife has expired? What we see today from the capital of Yorubaland (Ibadan) to the historical source of Yoruba people is the torment of a closed road that mocks the pathfinder-spirit of Oduduwa. The road does worse with its gaping craters and their threats of morphing into greater gullies. And it is a federal road.

Has the Ooni ever told the president that the worst road in the universe leads to his kingdom? Has he told the president that the N79.8 billion contract for the reconstruction of Ibadan-Ife-Ilesa road awarded in September, 2019 by his friend and villa mate, Muhammadu Buhari, has remained a contract for ghosts? Has he invited the president’s attention to the truth that since last year when he took over, the road has sunk even deeper in the mire of decrepitude? And, that even FERMA, a perennially rich agency that pretends giving palliatives on federal roads, has since seen the futility of stitching this rag? Or could it be that Kabiyesi does what our presidents since 1999 do – escaping road users’ pains by flying over our heads?

The reigning culture here is rooted in the ragged soils of our toil. I admit that badness is not peculiar to the Ife-Ibadan-Ilesa road. It is a national affliction that can’t be cured because of the greed of doctors who treat sick roads with fake and expired drugs.

We work hard to build roads that wear out before they are inaugurated. We have the interminable construction mess called Lagos-Ibadan Expressway. When did construction start there? When will it end – if it will ever end? How much have we sunk there? And, is it not a shame that the road is ready already for corrective surgery even before its makers are done making it? If you are a woman, and you are pregnant and your doctor tells you dancing is a ‘safe and fun way to exercise’, do not dance to the break beats of that road. It is made for abortion.

Ben Okri says “all roads lead to death” and “some roads lead to things which can never be finished.” Is that why our federal government’s roads are forever ongoing, none is ever finished or completed? Federal government’s statistics says out of Nigeria’s national road network of 200,000 kilometers, 36,289 km belong to it. Now, you ask Abuja which of its other roads, apart from the one from the Villa to Abuja airport, is good? Ask them why almost all roads that wear federal tags suffer neglect, abandonment or crass abuse.

My NYSC journey to the far north 34 years ago was on the Ibadan-Ilorin-Jebba-Mokwa-Yauri road. It was an experience in pleasantness. It is, today, a monument to frustration, a shrine to demons that feed on losses -human and material. The Ibadan-Oyo-Ogbomoso part of that road is one major reason why Nigeria should not have a federal government – or have roads managed by the Federal Government. There should be a coroner’s inquest on why that road was killed and who killed it. Without the states, the vehicle of Nigeria would have long lost its chassis. States keep doing what heart surgeons do when arteries are found blocked. They create bypasses, byways. A brand new 78-kilometre Iseyin-Ogbomosho road has just been built by Seyi Makinde’s Oyo State to escape the Federal Government’s death trap along that axis. A commenter online wrote: “The road has helped us to link northern Nigeria without using the dangerous Oyo-Ilorin road that has consumed so many lives…” The Oyo-Ilorin road of death spoken of here belongs to the government in Abuja.

Potholes jolt us to appreciate what bad roads represent in our lives. They tell us why the tyres of our country never last and why our rides are forever bumpy. Asking questions on why our roads are perennially bad is living the times of Ayi Kwei Armah’s ‘Two Thousand Seasons’: “A thousand seasons wasted wandering amazed along alien roads, another thousand spent finding paths to the living way.” Like Ouroboros, the self-tail-devourer, Nigeria’s ‘alien roads’ cyclically keep consuming the ‘living way.’

It is time to pound yam for the household, the idler among us goes for the heaviest pestle. This is better said in Yoruba: Òle bàá tì, ó gb’ódó nlá. There are abandoned federal roads everywhere which directly affect millions of Nigerians, but the government has moved the money to a 700km super coastal highway that will cost N15.6 trillion. The first phase is 47 kilometres, starting somewhere and ending nowhere, at a cost of N1.06 trillion. Should I just say that that N1 trillion will start and complete the reconstruction of decrepit Ibadan-Ife-Ilesa Road (224km), Ilorin to Bida (244.9km) and Shagamu to Benin (492km) if wisdom wills? Even at an inflated cost of N1 billion per kilometre, our husbands will achieve these and will even ‘collect change’. And Tinubu would have become very popular with it. But he wants a white elephant and has moved our money to purchase it.

White elephants are always expensive! Poet and journalist, Mathew Wills, in his ‘The Original White Elephant’ defines ‘white elephant’ as “something excessive that turns out to be valueless.” James A. Robinson and Ragnar Torvik in 2005 published an interesting article about the third world and deliberate bad investments – they titled their article: ‘White Elephants’. In that piece, they hold that politicians around here would always go for “white elephants” as against “socially efficient projects” because “the political benefits are large compared to the surplus generated by efficient projects.” That piece says much more than this. It is published in the Journal of Public Economics 89 (2005: 197-210). I think you should read it.

‘The Stolen White Elephant’ by Mark Twain is an interesting story on the cost of investing in big, expensive loss centres. It is the story of a fictional Kingdom of Siam. A reviewer says Siam is blessed with a “national appetite for fraud”. Another says it has officers of “pompous assumption of infallibility and ridiculous inappropriate procedures.” The “pointless” story is about an expensive search for a stolen white elephant, a further loss of hundreds of thousands of dollars in compensation and the eventual discovery of the rotting corpse of the supposedly stolen animal. The story ends with the duped narrator celebrating the man who duped him. It ends as the man pronounces himself “a ruined man and a wanderer in the earth.” In Studies in American Humour, Peter Messent (1995) does a lot of justice to it in his ‘Keeping Both Eyes Open.’ The whole story sounds Nigerian; what Fela called “expensive shit.” But I can argue that though we wander today, the past was a better experience.

“How can you develop a country rapidly if you can’t get about it?” Sir Rex Niven, pre-independence Speaker of Northern Nigeria House of Assembly, asked that question 69 years ago in relation to the state of roads in Nigeria. On January 27, 1955, Riven was asked to brief the Royal African Society and the Royal Empire Society in London on “Recent Developments in Nigeria.” He gave a very detailed account of himself as a British participant in the affairs of a key component of the Nigerian federation. Sector by sector, he spoke about efforts and failures. He particularly spoke on roads which he described as “the most important of the great aspects of development.” He said as he was speaking (in 1955), Nigeria had over 30,000 miles of roads whereas in 1920, “she had hardly any at all.” Then he used Kabba (in present Kogi State) to illustrate what he was saying: “The first province I went to, the newly constituted Kabba Province, had exactly 4 miles of road…but when I left Kabba four years later, there were over 200 miles of road.” Thirteen years later, the same Niven, in retirement, told the Commonwealth section of the Royal African Society on 11 November, 1969 that Nigeria had 40,000 miles of quality roads. That figure was even in spite of the ongoing civil war. Now, you ask: Why are our golden years always in the past? The past was obviously better handled.

There has been no remarkable uproar on the public-school collapse in Nigeria, affecting primary, secondary, and university education. Our leaders do not view it as a crisis. The reason is evident: there is a widespread trend among the garrulous upper class and middle class to send their wards and children to pricey private schools in Nigeria, with most of them sending their kids abroad. This dislocation between the elite class and public schools means that they are not only unmoved by its decay, but sometimes they are not even aware of the extent of the problem.

 Increasingly, public school is becoming the domain of low-income people who need more resources to send their children to good private schools. Good education is no longer affordable and is a class issue in Nigeria today. The paradox is that today’s elite and middle class are products of a robust public school system that existed between the 1930s and 1990s in Nigeria. During these golden years of public school in Nigeria, it provided an environment that allowed individuals of different socioeconomic backgrounds to interact with one another while removing barriers based on race, class, and religion. These schools also provided young Nigerians with the life skills they need to be self-sufficient and productive, and many of the products of this public school system became global giants and are still making waves worldwide and nationally in various fields of human endeavour. Quality public education has been steadily declining, particularly since the 1980s, which has led to the nearly total collapse of the system we have in place today. There has been a discernible drop in our public school system’s overall level of instruction since the 2000s, which has alarmed the populace.

Nigeria has faced numerous challenges in providing quality public education for all its citizens. Economic downturns, political instability, corruption, and conflicts harm the education sector. Over the years, various education policies and reforms have been implemented to address the sector’s challenges. These include the Universal Basic Education (UBE) programme, which provides free and compulsory education for all children up to junior secondary school level, and efforts to promote technical and vocational education to address skills gaps. Despite these efforts, significant disparities in access to quality education persist. The failure of public education in Nigeria has been a longstanding issue, marked by various challenges and setbacks that have hindered the system’s ability to provide quality education.

These challenges include chronic underfunding of the public education sector, a significant issue in Nigeria. We know that government spending on education has varied over the years, but it has often fallen short of recommended benchmarks such as the UNESCO-recommended 15-20% of the national budget. This lack of funding has resulted in inadequate infrastructure and a shortage of qualified teachers and essential educational resources.  Second, there is a lack or insufficiency of essential infrastructure, including classrooms, libraries, labs, and restrooms in public schools. Dilapidated buildings, overcrowded classrooms, and unconducive learning environment make it difficult for students to learn effectively and for teachers to deliver quality instruction. Third, the quality of teaching in public schools is often compromised due to factors such as inadequate teacher training, low motivation, miserable wage , and poor working conditions.  Fourth, the curriculum used in public schools is only sometimes relevant to the needs of students or the demands of the modern world. It may lack emphasis on critical thinking, problem-solving, and practical skills essential for success today. Fifth, the disparities in access to education persist in Nigeria, with rural and marginalised communities often having limited access to quality schools and educational resources. Sixth, corruption and mismanagement within the education sector are our albatross. Funds earmarked for education may be misappropriated or embezzled, leading to a lack of accountability and transparency in the use of resources. It is little wonder that many state governments claim to make public education the centrepiece of their administration’s targets, yet little or no improvement is seen.

Addressing these issues requires concerted efforts from the government, civil society, the private sector, and international partners. But it also requires the active participation and support of each one of us. Priority should be given to increasing investment in education, improving teacher training and welfare, upgrading infrastructure, revising the curriculum to be more relevant and inclusive, and promoting access to education for all, especially marginalised groups. Additionally, efforts to tackle corruption and promote good governance are essential for building a more effective and sustainable public education system in Nigeria. Ironically, governments at both federal and state levels have paid lip service to public education over the years, leading to the rise of the private education sector to fill the gap. Although millions of children with no other option still receive their education in public schools, they are no longer the place teachers and students fervently desire to be. The clamour for private schools has led to the exponential rise in Nigeria’s private primary, secondary and tertiary schools. We, as citizens, as parents, as educators, as policymakers, have a role to play in reversing this trend and revitalizing our public education system.

A cursory look at statistics will show any keen observer that we are in a dangerous place with our future generation, most of whom will not get any meaningful education. We are cheaply mortgaging the future by continuing to underinvest in public schools. All we are doing is laying the groundwork for society to fail. It is not appropriate to do so. For instance, from 2018 to 2020, enrolment in primary school declined by 62,000 or 0.3% (from 22,384,755 to 22,322,234) in public schools but increased by about 82,000 or 1.51% (5,504,632 to 5,587,528) in private schools. Likewise, enrolment in public secondary schools increased by about 18% between 2016 and 2019, while in private secondary schools the increase is about 56%. Besides, the student-to-teacher ratio in public primary schools is about 1:49 (against the 1:35 recommended, while it is significantly lower, at about 1:30, in private primary schools. Relatively, more private schools are popping up in big cities than public schools, and the numbers are almost getting even in some cities. This trend is expected to continue this way unless there is a significant intervention to stop the decline in public school enrolment, especially in urban areas with substantial upper- and middle-class families. The urgency of the situation cannot be overstated. We must act now to save our public education system.

The problem with private education often is the cost. Quality education costs are so high that only a few Nigerians can afford it. Recently, some Nigerians were abhorred by the news of the cost of fees of British Charterhouse School (N43 million per annum) for its students. Most did not know that the school had a waiting list of over 1000 when it initially wanted only about 200 pupils. Other decent private schools cost millions of Naira yearly, and parents struggle to cover these costs. Ironically, private schools are not only about quality of education but also about class distinction. It is assumed that the more expensive the school is, the better the quality. Unfortunately, the current situation is a shift of emphasis to expensive private primary, secondary and tertiary education at the expense of public institutions. The solution lies in a conscious public sector policy revision that encourages a renewal of the public education sector through curriculum renewal, teacher retraining, infrastructure renewal and renovation. For instance, when former Governor Rotimi Amaechi of  Rivers State revamped and modernised public schools with up-to-date modern facilities, parents began to return their wards to public schools that had become competitive with even the best private schools. Most recently I got involved in helping two state governments asses the state of education and I just wept but I could feel  the seriousness and determination  of the affected governors to fix the broken system. 

I applaud the president’s plan to census the Nigerian school system to create the primary data for education planning and development. I sincerely hope that the federal and state governments give serious attention to our public education sector. No template exists in the world where a country develops its human resources through private education. All the developed countries we know of developed and sustained a robust quality public education system that is inclusive, equitable, and of high standards. Public schools in these countries are where the children of the rich, the poor, and even the migrants interact and learn in a melting pot of family, cultural, and racial diversity. Quality primary education is a fundamental right of every Nigerian child, and the government at all levels must be held accountable for failure to provide that. Today’s children live in a highly technological and scientific globalised world, and they compete locally and globally for survival and contribute to humanity. It is a disservice to them if they lack the basic literacy, numeracy, and creative skills they need to thrive and develop in Nigeria.

Mike Adenuga is one of the brightest stars in Africa—a remarkable man who has proven his adaptability and excellence in different industries. Today, the 71-year-old Nigerian billionaire celebrates his birthday as a symbol of his continued impact and creativity.

One of the few Nigerians on this year’s Forbes World Billionaires list is Mike Adenuga. He is currently the second wealthiest man in Nigeria, having made his mark in the banking, real estate, oil and gas, telecommunications, and aviation industries. Adenuga epitomises a self-made man.

Born on April 29, 1953, in Ibadan, Nigeria, to Oloye Michael Agbolade Adenuga Snr. and Omoba Juliana Oyindamola Adenuga, Mike Adenuga’s journey began in humble surroundings, with his father a schoolteacher and his mother a businesswoman.

His educational journey began at Ibadan Grammar School, and he then earned his higher school certificate from Comprehensive High School Aiyetoro.

Despite his modest beginnings, Adenuga’s determination propelled him forward. He worked tirelessly as a taxi driver to fund his university education.

He graduated from Northwestern Oklahoma State University and Pace University with degrees in Business Administration before pursuing an MBA at Pace University in New York.

Adenuga attributes much of his success to his mother’s influence, acknowledging her role in shaping his formidable work ethic.

At 26, his relentless drive struck gold. His diverse business ventures culminated in his first million dollars, a stepping stone to his grand ambitions.

His business acumen is undeniable, as reflected in his estimated net worth of $6.7bn by Forbes. But Adenuga’s legacy extends beyond wealth. He is a true inspiration, demonstrating the power of hard work, vision, and an unwavering entrepreneurial spirit.

His diverse portfolio spans telecommunications (Globacom), oil exploration (Conoil Plc), banking (Sterling Bank), real estate (Cobble-Stone Properties), and construction (Julius Berger). Adenuga is a true “Jack of all trades” and a “master of all”.

Telecoms

Adenuga’s fearless approach to risk-taking was evident when he delved into the telecommunications industry race after Nigeria opened its doors to GSM licenses.

Despite initial setbacks, his determination remained unwavering. Eventually, in 2003, he successfully secured a license and launched Globacom.

By 2001, Adenuga had already established himself as a prominent figure in Nigeria’s economy. When the opportunity arose with the Obasanjo administration offering GSM licenses, he naturally joined the competition. Despite facing a setback and losing $20m in the process, Adenuga was resolute.

His persistence paid off handsomely as he returned stronger, securing a license that paved the way for Globacom’s emergence as a future national telecom leader.

Launched in 2003 with the ambition to become Nigeria’s telecom giant, Globacom swiftly established itself as a game-changer under Adenuga’s astute leadership.

Despite entering the market two years after its competitors, the company, propelled by Adenuga’s vision, became known for its innovative approaches.

It championed per-second billing, a revolutionary concept that democratised phone usage for Nigerians, solidifying Globacom’s status as a trailblazer in the telecommunications industry.

Globacom, with over 60 million subscribers, has continually pushed boundaries in the telecommunications industry, pioneering various network technologies such as 2.5G, 3G, and 4G LTE.

Constantly setting new standards, Globacom has been at the forefront of innovation.

One of its most significant achievements was the launch of Glo-1, a groundbreaking intercontinental submarine cable project that transformed internet connectivity in Nigeria.

 

With a staggering investment of $250m, solely funded by Globacom, Glo-1 marked the first of its kind in Africa.

Stretching over 9,800 kilometres, the cable links Nigeria to Europe and America, with landing points along the West African coast and Europe.

This monumental infrastructure upgrade significantly enhanced internet speed and reliability for voice, data, and video services.

Beyond its impact on individual users, Glo-1 provided vital connectivity for key sectors such as oil and gas, banking, and education.

This transformative project underscores Adenuga’s foresight and dedication to shaping Nigeria’s technological landscape.

Despite the chaos that ensued a few months ago due to a major cut in submarine cables, telecommunications subscribers across Nigeria and several other African countries found themselves in a state of panic.

There were reports that the outage, which affected internet users in South and West Africa, might continue for several weeks. Among those significantly affected were banks and telecom organisations, heavily reliant on those cables for internet services.

However, amid the turmoil, Globacom subscribers remained unaffected. They continued to enjoy uninterrupted internet connectivity and other services throughout the outage.

This resilience serves as a testament to the strength and foresight of Globacom, a company that has made substantial investments in infrastructure development.

Such an achievement directly reflects the vision of Adenuga, the founder and chairman of Globacom.

His forward-thinking approach to prioritising infrastructure has firmly positioned the company as a dependable service provider, capable of weathering unforeseen disruptions with ease

Oil and gas

His influence extends beyond the realm of telecommunications; he is also a significant figure in Nigeria’s oil and gas industry. Adenuga saw an opportunity when Gen. Ibrahim Babangida’s (retd.) administration opened the door for indigenous participation.

Despite initial hesitations, Adenuga boldly invested over $100m in exploration and drilling activities.

His gamble paid off in 1991 when Consolidated Oil, his company, achieved a historic milestone by becoming the first Nigerian company to discover and produce oil in commercial quantities.

Today, Conoil Producing Limited, formerly Consolidated Oil, stands as a trailblazer in Africa’s indigenous oil and gas exploration and production sector.

This pioneering spirit continued as Adenuga identified potential in the National Oil and Chemical Company. He acquired the company, infused it with fresh investments, and rebranded it as Conoil Plc.

Conoil’s success story is remarkable. It has become a household name in Nigeria, boasting a network of over 450 retail outlets across the country.

Adenuga’s vision and strategic investments have solidified Conoil’s position as a key player in Nigeria’s oil and gas landscape

It is a leader in modern retail formats, including mega stations and non-space pumps, and holds the top spot in the aviation fuel market.

His leadership has propelled Conoil Producing to operate six promising oil blocks in the Niger Delta, with a daily production of approximately 20,000 barrels.

Its 27-year track record is further bolstered by substantial oil reserves, estimated in millions of barrels, and vast gas reserves in trillions of cubic feet.

Adenuga’s significant stake (74.4 per cent) in Conoil Plc underscores his commitment to the company’s continued success.

Conoil’s strong market presence is built on its expertise in supplying a wide range of petroleum products, from petrol and diesel to kerosene and aviation fuel.

Its “Quatro” brand of lubricants is another testament to its diversified product line.

Banking

Adenuga’s foray into banking began with the establishment of Devcom Bank and Equitorial Trust Bank. Both institutions became trailblazers in their fields, contributing significantly to the development of the public, commercial, and retail sectors.

Their financial strength shone brightly during the 2005 banking consolidation exercise. ETB effortlessly met the N25bn capital requirement, a testament to its stability and avoiding the need for a stock market offering.

This achievement solidified their position as major players in the Nigerian financial landscape.

However, Adenuga’s vision extended beyond individual success. Recognising the potential for further consolidation, he orchestrated the strategic merger of ETB and Devcom Bank, which laid the groundwork for an even more formidable presence in the industry.

Years later, the merged entity consolidated further, joining forces with Sterling Bank Plc.

Today, Adenuga remains a significant shareholder of the resulting behemoth, Sterling Financial Holding.

This publicly traded giant, a testament to Adenuga’s astute financial strategy, operates two key subsidiaries: Sterling Bank Plc, a cornerstone of traditional commercial banking services in Nigeria, and Alternative Bank Limited, a pioneering force in Nigeria’s non-interest banking sector that offers innovative financial solutions.

Aviation

The billionaire businessman is also playing actively in Nigeria’s aviation sector. His company, Conoil, boasts an aviation arm, Conoil Aviation, actively involved in the aviation sector.

Conoil Aviation plays a key role in keeping Nigerian airplanes fuelled. It handles the entire process, from production and storage to transportation and delivery of jet fuel in at least six major airports across the country: Nnamdi Azikiwe International Airport, Abuja; Margaret Ekpo International Airport, Calabar; Mallam Aminu Kano International Airport, Kano; Murtala Muhammed International Airport, Lagos; Maiduguri International Airport, and Sokoto airport.

His foundation

Beyond his accomplishments in business, Adenuga is also well-known for his generosity and unwavering commitment to philanthropy.

His altruistic efforts have touched the lives of countless individuals and celebrities alike.

Established by the business titan, the Mike Adenuga Foundation stands as a beacon of pan-African philanthropy.

Rooted in the belief of fostering social and economic empowerment across Nigeria and other African nations, where the Mike Adenuga group of companies operates, the foundation is committed to catalysing positive transformations in these regions.

Through a diverse array of initiatives, it endeavours to harness resources, cultivate skills and knowledge, ignite innovation, drive social and economic progress, fortify infrastructure, widen educational access, improve healthcare systems, foster partnerships between nonprofits and governmental bodies, promote commerce, empower local enterprises, and elevate living standards.

At its core, the foundation prioritises critical areas such as health, rural development, education, entrepreneurship, and providing special opportunity grants.

Distinguishing itself from conventional grant-giving entities, it strategically aligns with stakeholders and beneficiaries to conceive and execute impactful programmes.

The foundation donated N500m to aid flood victims in Bayelsa State.

Through its actions and collaborations, the Mike Adenuga Foundation assumes a pivotal role in advancing philanthropy and effecting positive change across African societies.

More than just offering aid, its mission is to empower Nigerians and other Africans by creating enduring solutions that propel social and economic progress.

During the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, Adenuga demonstrated remarkable leadership by being among the first to donate N1.5bn towards combating the dreaded coronavirus scourge.

In addition to offering crucial assistance in handling the situation, his proactive initiative encouraged other Nigerians to support the cause. This exemplifies Adenuga’s characteristic leadership style: he leads by example, prompting others to follow suit.

In Adenuga’s words, “How much money can one individual or his family enjoy? You must spread it and touch lives; that is what brings true happiness and joy. What’s the point if your friend is wealthy and it doesn’t show in his friends?”

It’s not geopolitics, nepotism, or religion that will be the cause of the collapse of the largest black nation on the planet if the Nigerian state crumbles. Corruption is what’s going to make that happen if something drastic is not done before it’s too late. Countries like the People’s Republic of China execute corrupt officials and some other countries take other extreme measures to keep corruption at bay while Nigeria pays only lip service to the corruption fight.

The whole foundation of Nigeria, its identity, and its statecraft have been undermined by corruption, and the corrosion is not abating. Boundaries and red lines of statecraft have all broken down, and the country is left in free fall. The rule of law, which holds the country together as a constitutional creation, is vanishing.

In Nigeria today, justice is served to the highest bidder due to corruption. No nation that is serious about remaining cohesive, developing, and forward-thinking will tolerate the degree and kind of pervasive corruption that exists in Nigeria. In Nigeria, corruption has supplanted all norms and banished integrity from public life. Some youngsters will tell you that they want to be bandits, yahoo boys, or militants, among other unmentionables. What is more, the citizens simply carry on as if nothing can be done about corruption in Nigeria anymore.

Public service was flourishing in Nigeria before things got so bad. Then, Nigerians put in a lot of effort to achieve their wealth, credentials, and titles. Public officials, both appointed and elected, as well as those in the civil service, were guided in their acts by financial regulations and civil service rules and standards. Today, it is all about big wealth without work or morality.

 

Nigerians working in government were strictly governed by morality and decency in the past. However, some of them shamelessly accepted a 10% bribe for contract awards and execution. Currently, however, high-ranking government officials serve as contractors and now set the amount they desire for each contract in which they do not personally carry out the work.

Even worse, high-ranking government officials are now creating certificates of completion for projects and contracts that were never done. They then utilise registered contractors to extract funds from the treasury for these projects and contracts and divide the spoils among themselves. Yet, Nigerians feign perplexity as to why the country lacks progress, whereas the money allocated for development is syphoned off by the invading locusts. The politicians, public officials, and civil servants are syphoning off monies intended for social amenities, infrastructure, and development and have to be stopped now by the Nigerians themselves by joining the EFCC and ICPC actively in the renewed anti-corruption fight.

Things have gotten out of hand. The judiciary, which used to be the last hope of the common man, is increasingly selling judgements and injunctions, even by its admission. This inspired a well-known poet from Nigeria to recently write, “My Lord, where do I keep your bribe?”. A top Nigerian lawyer also informed me that many judges now write two judgements for the two parties in the cases they hear, and the judge’s choice of which to read ultimately comes down to who plays hardball.

 

Naturally, the police—whom most Nigerians accused of corruption even in the relatively good days in Nigeria—have only grown worse just as the judges have lost all interest in upholding the law. If a complainer is not prepared to pay for the investigation, no one can get his or her case looked into these days. Meanwhile, “Bail is free” is the first thing that appears printed on police station walls. You believe that at your peril. Things have gotten incredibly worse.

The current state of education is a cesspool. A lot of teachers and lecturers now give their male students marks based on how deep their pockets are and the readiness of the beds of the female students.

Cultism has become more powerful and audacious. When the Pirates Confraternity was formed in Nigeria in 1952 by the “Original Seven” to support human rights and social justice in Nigeria and to fight colonialism—a worthy cause you dare say— was when cultism was born in our country. Cults are now commonplace at all of Nigeria’s postsecondary institutions for wrong and evil reasons. The fact that cults are now present in primary and secondary schools is even more horrifying.

Even more worrisome are the cult memberships of vice-chancellors, deans, heads of departments, and lecturers. Just now, a previous vice chancellor demanded that lecturers undergo drug tests. He was speaking from experience. Cultist students force lecturers to do their bidding by awarding their members the marks they dictate. Nigeria is really in trouble.

 

Cults have extended throughout society to engulf traders, mechanics, and artisans and have taken over the streets. Cultism and cult wars are now a fad everywhere in the South as banditry and terrorism are reigning supreme in the North.

There is a steep moral decline and degradation. Just as many parents are purchasing exam questions for their kids and enrolling them in special centres where examiners read out the answers to the questions and all of them receive “A” grades, a father was recently caught writing JAMB for his son! Scores from JAMB, WAEC, and NECO, as well as from schools, are now directly purchased by many parents. These students leave the school as barren as when they arrived, posing a great burden to the Nigerian society as quacks when unleashed as qualified graduates and professionals; to say nothing about the role of corruption in the creation of banditry and terrorism, and their escalation.

This is only a quick glimpse into the terrifying Nigeria of today. Corruption now permeates every facet of life in our country and something has to be done quickly.

The EFCC and the ICPC, Nigeria’s two primary anti-corruption agencies, are overburdened and have a difficult task ahead of them. Things deteriorated merely because the nation’s political elite behaved much like invading locusts, wiping off public treasury and pushing back the fight against corruption.

 

Nonetheless, three things would make Nigeria’s fight against corruption work: 1) the president’s political will to let the agencies carry out their duties regardless of whose ox is gored; 2) the agencies’ courage and diligence in carrying out their duties without favouritism or playing to the gallery, as was the case in the past; and 3) most importantly, the total support of Nigerian citizens.

It is now inevitable that Nigerians’ conflicted impression of the new heroic work of the Economic and Financial Crime Commission (EFCC) is changed urgently. Nigerians must now unite behind the anti-corruption agencies to save their country from these invading locusts.

 

The consequences of corruption in Nigerian society are dire. Since corruption is the primary source of every problem that has negatively impacted the nation over the past few decades, particularly in terms of development, national security, and the economy, it must be eliminated at all costs, and that will only be possible with the total support of Nigerians for the EFCC and ICPC. Nigerians have previously had cause to question the honesty and integrity of the anti-corruption agencies, but there are strong indications that the anti-corruption fight is now serious for once.

Following the country’s 1999 restoration to democracy, corruption has grown primarily as a result of the politicisation of the war against the cankerworm and the impunity and political protection enjoyed by the political class and corrupt politicians.

 

At this critical point, the anti-corruption authorities must demonstrate to Nigerians their sincere commitment to eliminating corruption in national life. That’s the only way to change citizens’ negative perceptions about the anti-corruption fight and mobilise citizens’ support for their renewed fight against corruption.

The anti-corruption agencies need to enlist the aid of the media and CSOs as well. The two are strategic if Nigerians will take the anti-corruption agencies seriously and believe that they have changed for the better.

 

The agencies should, among other things, also create anti-corruption clubs and run leaf-letting campaigns in schools. These are equally vital as preventive measures and for changing the young, who have come to accept corruption as a way of life in their country, Nigeria.

Yes, Nigeria’s dire circumstances can be saved if its citizens actively support the efforts of the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) and the Independent Corrupt Practices and Other Related Offences Commission (ICPC) to hold corrupt public officials accountable for the public treasury they have looted and to recover the funds they have embezzled.

Nigerians, through EFCC and ICPC, can, and should, take back their country.


Dr Law Mefor, an Abuja-based forensic and social psychologist, is a fellow of The Abuja School of Social and Political Thought. He can be reached via drlawmefor@gmail.com; Twitter: @Drlawsonmefor.

The country rose in one voice to condemn the March 14, 2024 killing of 17 military officers and men in Okuama community who were said to be on a peace mission. It did so without having the facts or asking pertinent questions. The point that soldiers, who signed up to serve the country, were killed, was enough to send the nation into mourning and to unify us. 

Today, 46 days after, we are no wiser as to the facts of the case. Who sent them on the mission? What were the objectives? What really happened? Unfortunately, we may never learn from this case because our Generals decided it is a purely military affair  that excludes the police which has the wherewithal to conduct a forensic investigation. Rather than enhance an investigation, the military levelled the town. Even after severally contaminating the crime scene, the Generals for six days, barred the Governor who, constitutionally, is also the chief security officer of the state, from accessing the area. The excuse was that the military was engaged in military operations in the area. If it has taken over six weeks for the Generals to conduct such operations in an undefended community and, against a civilian population that had fled, how many years would it have taken them to move into Niger Republic had the Presidency not changed its mind about the invasion of that country?

The Generals took over the arrest and  investigation of Nigerian citizens without respecting their constitutional rights to fair hearing. The arrests in Okuama is like going to hell. The detained traditional ruler, Clement Ikolo said upon his release: “It is like somebody coming from the dead. That is what it is like.”  

If this is the experience of a privileged elite with international connections, you can imagine what nameless locals with no connections are undergoing in the hands of a clearly angry military.

Where crimes are committed, especially by civilians, it is the duty of the police to arrest and investigate and, not the military. This is more so in the Okuama case in which the military is not only an interested party but has also carried out reactive actions that need to be investigated. We must be a country of laws and constitutionality, not one in which individuals and groups, no matter how aggrieved, will take laws into their hands.

Where in the world, would an army set up a military panel to investigate civilians, deprive them of legal advice and exclude constitutional authorities including government? This can neither be civil rule nor a democracy.

In discussing the Okuama killings, there have been some arguments that the military’s reaction is justified because restraining them can lead to demoralisation. I disagree. What is required is the proper orientation of the military; the ends of justice are not served by being lawless, but being law-abiding and ensuring that justice is served.

There are also arguments that the military Rules Of Engagement, ROE, cannot hold in combat situations. This precisely is why the rules were made in the first place. Adherence to them is what distinguishes the military as a profession from other armed groups.

The ROE governing internal military operations includes justification; there is no justification for revenge killings. Secondly, it prescribes the use of minimum force; burning down communities and assuming that all non-military persons in the area are enemy combatants, amount to the use of maximum force.

The ROE prescribes the maintenance of public confidence. I submit that the public may not have confidence in a military that historically sees citizens as “bloody civilians” and fights blindly like Ogun, the god of iron, which does not distinguish between enemies and friends.

When I was a boy growing up in Obalende, Lagos, the sentries at Dodan Barracks, especially when it was dark, were expected to call out to the person approaching the gate: “Halt! Who goes there? Enemy or friend?” After which the person identified himself and stated his mission. But how do you respond when the sentry shouts: “Halt! Who goes there? Enemy or foe?”

Prevention is another injunction in the ROE. If there were adequate consultations between the communities and the military before the deployment of the soldiers, could this tragedy have been prevented? Only a proper investigation can reveal this. But, are steps being taken to prevent a repeat?

The ROE also prescribes legal obligation. As I said earlier, in the Okuama case, legal obligation and evidence have taken serious missile hits. Finally, the ROE talks about safe guarding loyal citizens. In this case, the loyal citizens are in the grave, under arrest or are in flight.

As can be seen, no section of the ROE justifies reprisal attacks by the military against civilians who in any case, might be innocent.

Today, the military, even after levelling Okuama, continues its “operation” in the community. It does not appear in a hurry to leave, and who knows, the community might actually be erased if it is turned into a military camp.

  The Delta State government, apparently left with no alternative, has decided to move the people from the forests they are taking refuge, to an Internally Displaced Persons, IDPs, camp in Asaba, the state capital.

Meanwhile, the military, perhaps based on new information or disinformation, has extended its invasion to neigbouring Bayelsa State where it reportedly sacked the Igbomoturu community, killing 20 youths. Obviously pained, Bayelsa State Governor Douye Diri said: “My advice to the military and security agencies is to be very professional in their investigations so that innocent Bayelsans; innocent Ijaws…” would not be killed.

Sadly, we are not learning from our recent history. The on-going invasion of Okuama and Igbomoturu are not too dissimilar to the November 20, 1999 military invasion of Odi in Bayelsa State. Fifteen days before, a criminal gang had killed 12 policemen near Odi. In reprisal attacks, the military levelled the town killing over 900 civilians. President Goodluck Jonathan was to lament on November 18, 2010 that “only innocent people, including women, children and the very weak that could not run, were killed in Odi”.

Justice Lambi Akanbi of the Federal High Court in awarding a N37.6 billion compensation to the victims, had in his February, 2013 judgement, declared: “The people are entitled to fundamental rights to life, dignity and fair play; the destruction of Odi was not as a result of gun battle but clear bombardment, the destruction was malicious.”

Our Generals should stop the re-enactment of the Kaima, Odi and Zaki Biam massacres by halting their attacks on Okuama and Igbomoturu, pulling out the troops and allowing the normal course of justice to prevail. Otherwise, these would tantamount to war crimes.

 

SENIOR Nigerian public officers are notoriously parsimonious with their recall once out of office. From among their club memoirs are the unusual. In a country ruled by whim, risk aversion is prudent when you are out of power. By feigning amnesia, yesterday’s men limit the likelihood that their successors may remember them for the wrong reasons. Moreover, with government as the principal guarantor of a good life, respect for the its rule of Omerta is the only way to retain any hope of access to its revolving doors.

 When it occurs, departure from this trend is usually enforced. This is why Mohammed Bello Adoke’s 2019 memoirs remain notable. Adoke, a Senior Advocate of Nigeria, SAN, was Attorney-General and Minister of Justice under President Goodluck Jonathan for five years from 2010 until 2015. Since leaving office, he has endured exile, detention, and a failed criminal trial in connection with the infamous Oil Prospecting Lease, OPL, 245 granted in April 1998 by General Abacha to the shadowy Malabu Oil and Gas Limited. 

Even before his trial began, Adoke felt called upon to discharge a burden in relation to the controversies that dogged him after office. Fittingly, his story is published under the titled, Burden of Service. The sub-title, Reminiscences of Nigeria’s Former Attorney-General, underscores the point that Adoke is, remarkably, the first former Attorney-General of the Federation to publish an account from his time in office.

In addition to the Malabu Oil controversy, Burden of Service also offers insights into many other highlights of the Goodluck Jonathan years, including the hand-over of Bakassi Peninsula to Cameroon, recovery of the endless Abacha Loot, the removal of Ayo Salami as President of the Court of Appeal, and the climactic denouement to Nigeria’s 2015 presidential election. In the afterglow of what he must regard as judicial vindication, it is timely to re-examine Adoke’s own narration.

While his parochial account is interesting in and of itself, it is the vignettes he offers when he is not necessarily pleading his own cause that make Adoke’s insights deserving of attention. A general theme of his is the shiftiness of Nigerian politicians and he illustrates this with several issues in the book. Some deserve scrutiny.

The first is the currency of loyalty in Nigerian politics. Under General Abacha, politicians popularised “I am loyal” as cult greeting. It is not lost on those interested that anyone who has need to repeat affirmations in this way probably knows nothing about loyalty in the first place. Illustrating this point, Adoke narrates how many people close to President Jonathan donated money to support the campaign of General Muhammadu Buhari in 2015. According to him, “many of my cabinet colleagues, including those known to be close to the President, had made donations to Buhari’s campaign. Those involved included heads of agencies. A Principal Officer of the National Assembly from the PDP was to later confess publicly that he donated N5 million to the APC during the elections.”

This shiftiness is not limited to politics; it also extends to high matters of constitutional legality. This is the second highlight from Burden of Service. Adoke tells a remarkable story about the fate of the Constitution (Fourth Amendment) Bill of 2015, which was said to have failed to receive presidential assent before President Jonathan vacated office. The amendment included clauses granting immunity to law-makers, life pension to former presiding officers of the National Assembly and inducting them into life membership of the National Council of State. It also contained a provision dispensing with presidential assent to constitutional amendments.

As Adoke recalls, after the 2015 election, the National Assembly transmitted the Bill to President Jonathan for his assent. By the time Adoke learnt of this, President Jonathan had reportedly assented to the bill and authorised for it to be returned to the National Assembly. So, Adoke raced to the presidency to explain to the President the dangers inherent in the provisions contained in the amendment he assented to. After his encounter with President Jonathan, “the President looked genuinely surprised and promptly withdrew his assent”, whereupon he directed the Attorney-General “to prepare a memorandum elucidating all the issues…. raised and why he would have to veto the bill.” The rest is history but an important constitutional question arises – can a president having assented to a law unilaterally withdraw his assent? 

Thirdly, there is the issue of weaponisation of litigation against the public purse in judgment debts. It’s best to render this in Adoke’s own words: “Many of the claims were bogus but since it was an organized scam, they were getting away with it…. Again, there were too many people interested in judgment debts. We were getting calls from all manner of people, including members of the National Assembly. Actually, some National Assembly members were making appropriation for judgment debts based on an understanding with the debtors (sic). It was a conspiracy against the national treasury.” This does not require any translation but it is noteworthy that Attorney-General Adoke chose not to tell who “they” were. 

Fourth, there is the matter of plea bargains in white collar crimes involving politically exposed persons, PEPs, in Nigeria. About this, Adoke tells the story of the presidential pardon granted former Bayelsa State Governor, Diprieye Alamieyeseigha. According to him, Alamieyeseigha’s conviction was under a plea bargain and “as part of the plea bargain he was to be granted presidential pardon by (President Umaru) Yar’Adua after his release from jail. This, however, did not materialize as President Yar’Adua fell ill and died.” Plea bargains are subject to approval by courts and it’s doubtful whether this part of the deal was disclosed to any court. It certainly wasn’t disclosed to Nigerians. 

Fifth, as Attorney-General of the Federation, Adoke was also the official leader of the Bar. His memoir offers an unusual insight into how he views hierarchies at the Bar. To make this point, he tells the story of how, before his time, “a substantial part of the budgetary allocation made for solicitors’ fees was being paid out only to two or three private solicitors. There was a case of a former Attorney-General that was paying a Senior Advocate N50 million for each case….” The result was there was insufficient money to go round and many cases against government went un-defended, leading to more judgment debts. So, how did Adoke address this? He decided that “no SAN would be paid more than N5 million for a brief; any other lawyer, who was not a SAN, would receive a maximum of N2 million.” In the un-complicated calculus of Attorney-General Adoke, a SAN is worth 250% of a non-SAN!

The narration in Burden of Service unfolds at four distinct levels of pre-text, text, context, and sub-text. It is replete with claims of moral high ground and completeness of disclosure but – as with nearly all memoirs -the reader must have an eye for both the credible and the incredulous. The line between these two can sometimes be non-existent in Adoke’s mind.

In telling the story of the removal of Ayo Salami as the President of the Court of Appeal, for instance, Adoke prefaces his narration with the implicit disclaimer that “the Attorney-General is not a member of the National Judicial Council, NJC”, who recommended the retirement of Salami. He then proceeds to a pro-forma narration that is half-hearted to the point of being manifestly disingenuous. 

According to Adoke, Salami “had personally encouraged” him to apply for SAN. However, Chief Justice Katsina-Alu, who was the other party in this terminal dog-fight with Salami, was his “mentor and adopted father” and benefactor, who personally recommended him to President Jonathan for the position of Attorney-General. Why it should fall to the Chief Justice of the Federation to nominate the Attorney-General of the Federation is another matter altogether. It is difficult to escape the conclusion that in this part of the book, at least, Adoke was – to put it rather mildly – less than economical with the truth.

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

Some people inspire us with their lives, others teach us a lesson with their death. In the case of  Hon. Sidi Hamid Ali, veteran journalist, politician, ‘persuader’, author and statesman, his life enriched so many narratives while his death last week diminished all who knew him.

Sidi Hamid Ali was a man-and-a-half; too much for one country, not enough for two. Restless, sharp-witted, impulsive, perspicacious, creative and loyal to causes and people he believed in, he was one of a kind. In the almost five decades that I was privileged to know him, he still ranked as an enigma— half-question, half-possibility, half-exclamation, half-puzzle-behind-puzzle. His persona was easy to understand but if you thought you knew him, you would eventually find out that you didn’t fully know him.

Gun Incident

The first thing that comes to the mind of many people when the name Sidi Ali is mentioned is the incident in the House of Representatives during the Second Republic when he was alleged to have drawn a gun and thrown the entire house into panic. What actually happened was that a fellow parliamentarian had assaulted Sidi Ali (which was a serious parliamentary offence) and Ali had duly reported the matter to the Speaker and other leaders of the house. He waited for several days for action to be taken against his assailant but no such action was forthcoming.

So, he decided to teach them all a lesson. He smuggled a gun into the legislative chambers and as soon as he saw his assailant who was conferring with other colleagues, he drew the gun. Legislators, led by the Speaker, voted with their feet! The assailant didn’t show up in the house for several weeks until he was assured that his apology had been accepted by Ali. Although a stickler for rules, he was not averse to stirring things up when necessary.

 

Born in Kano in 1938, he spent part of his childhood in Ghana where his father, Alhaji Sidi Ali, ran a thriving cattle business. He started school in Shahuci Elementary School in 1945, and in 1949 went to Kano Middle School where he was in the same class with Murtala Mohammed who was to join the army in later years and become Nigerian head of state.

He was sent back to Ghana for higher education but he was enmeshed instead in radical politics which led to his expulsion. He and some of his colleagues came to the attention of Dr. Kwame Nkrumah who decided to help mould them to become useful to Africa of the future. Nkrumah gave him scholarship to study in the UK but the plan didn’t work out because he did not have an A-Level certificate, so he was sent to New York in the US where there was a provision for a six-month remedial course to make him eligible for university admission.

Those were the days of momentous events in many parts of the world. In Africa, the Congo crisis was in full bloom. Young Sidi Ali was the Chairman of the Political Committee of the Pan African Students’ Organisation (PASO). In that position, he led demonstrations and was part of the group of African students who provided security for Cuban leader Fidel Castro when he stayed in a hotel in Harlem. The American authorities fingered him as one of the undesirables.

Journalist & Author

After bagging his degree, he returned to Ghana but the situation had drastically changed as Nkrumah had been overthrown and the ruling military men were very edgy. By the mid-sixties, the political situation in Nigeria itself had deteriorated. When Sidi Ali returned, he had the good fortune of meeting benevolent seniors like Alhaji MD Yusuf and Alhaji Ahmed Joda both of who assisted him in getting into the civil service.

He was in the team that ran the propaganda machine of the Nigerian government throughout the civil war. His skill as a prolific writer also came in handy in his later career as an author of nine books.

Fittingly, Ali became known as a principled politician and uncompromising journalist. It was his journalism that fed his political activism.

In the run-up to the Second Republic, he had written an article critical of the military and had been slammed in prison. The prominent party in Kano was the radical People’s Redemption Party (PRP) which sent two of its members, Abubakar Rimi and Inuwa Wada  to co-opt Ali as a candidate for the federal house of representatives. His nomination form was filled while in prison and he eventually won the election, representing Danbatta even though he was from Darma in Kano City. All that mattered to the people was that he was Mallam Aminu Kano’s candidate.

When I first met Hon. Sidi Ali, I was working in DRUM magazine and we shared many friends and sources together. I used to visit him in his home and office in Obalende, near Dodan Barracks, Lagos. We called him Sarki of Obalende. He was a treasure throve of information. We even managed to collaborate on a few anti-apartheid programmes at a time when Thabo Mbeki and his fellow freedom fighters also had their offices in Obalende. Proverbially speaking, you could say he knew where all the dead bodies were buried. He therefore enjoyed the respect of fellow professionals and, indeed, the ruling elite, whether in uniform or in babariga. In those pre-internet days when every little source was gold, Sidi Ali was the gold mine itself.

He was a go-getter. He once told me the story of how he wanted to see Chief Awolowo at his Ikenne residence but was prevented by security men. He then told the head of the security that it was Mama Awolowo he wanted to see, not Papa. A message was sent to Mama and she promptly replied that Sidi was her son and should always be given free passage whenever he came. With him, you never said never.

In the 90s, Hon. Ali was a regular visitor to my office at Academy Press in Ilupeju where he processed tons of quality calendars, diaries, annual reports and journals to the envy of many advertising agencies. As a devout Muslim, he observed all his religious obligations routinely as he would just disappear with my office assistant to one corner whenever it was time for the Muslim prayer. In all his business dealings, his word was his bond.

Friend & Brother

We were to link up again when my office moved to Abuja. He had earlier relocated to the new capital city. We simply continued from where we left off. All through his life, he remained passionate about Nigeria actualising its potentials. He operated an ‘open-clock’ policy in the sense that if he was thinking of some idea or writing something and needed clarification or simple contextualisation, he would call me, even if it was 2am!

Every Eid-El-Kabir, I always had a full pot of ram meat from Hon. Ali. Even if I was in Lagos, he would arrange for a driver to bring my share of the sallah meat from Kano to Abuja where my staff would collect the consignment.

We spoke for exactly 11 minutes and 38 seconds about three weeks ago. We discussed his health for about three minutes and I also had a brief chat with his son, Osama. The rest of the time was taken up by political talk and a review of the security situation in the country. His voice was strong, clear, and passionate. He didn’t sound like an 86-year-old man who had just three weeks to take the final bow. I like to remember him that way: Pontificating, assertive, hopeful, witty. I pray that God gives his family the fortitude to bear his demise.

Adieu, my detribalised friend, collaborator and elder brother, Mallam Sidi Hamid Ali. Allah Ya gafarta maka, Ya dawwamar da kai gidan aljanna.

 

The enchanter recited the incantation with utmost fury: “River Niger and River Benue, the confluence is in Kogi State. Except say River Niger and River Benue no come meet for Kogi; if River Niger and River Benue come meet for Kogi, dem no go fit arrest Bello… Dem dey use EFCC pursue am, dem no go succeed o. Dem go lay siege for im house for Abuja… Except say I no be born of Igala kingdom… EFCC dey front, you dey back; you dey back, dem dey front; you dey left, dem dey right; you dey right, dem dey left; you dey centre, dem come there, you jump dem pass!…a lion cannot give birth to a goat…”

The repertoire is a typical exchange in African rituals. The target was the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC), an organization headed by Ola Olukoyede. Olukoyede is said to be a pastor in Enoch Adeboye’s RCCG. So, three men gather in a place that looks like a forest. Woven round the heads of two of them like bandana is a white cloth. They crouch on their knees. The third, kneeling in the middle, carries a brown pot from which oozes a thick smoke. Libation ingredients are ready. They are: a black cock, tortoise, a green bottle which ostensibly habours in its bosom sacrificial liquor. The liquor is then sprinkled on the ground as libation. Two egg-like objects complete the ingredients of sacrifice. Either as an effigy or in person, the presence of the recipient of the ritual is always needed. His spirit needs to connect with the spirits.

So, a portrait of the man who gave self the sobriquet of White Lion, Yahaya Bello, is procured for the libation process. He is dressed in all-white attire like the god, Obatala. Obatala is a Yoruba god of purity. Then the one who looks like the chief priest begins to render a monologue that is known in African ritual practice as incantation. It is similar to the allocutus lawyers enter into on behalf of their guilty client. The aim is for the de-escalation of the pursuit of Bello by the EFCC, his alleged theft of Kogi State’s N82 billion notwithstanding. Bello’s matter got escalated towards the end of the week when the EFCC chairman alleged that the ex-governor paid in advance, the sum of  $845,852.84 to the Abuja school of his children. Bello has made feeble attempt to denounce this from his hiding hole with the ill-logic that it was paid with his hard-earned sweats. Why the rush to pay school fees till 2034 if where the money was got today would remain permanent?

Yahaya Bello and his apologists have been spurting out bunkum. They allege that the EFCC is hounding him. Let us assume they are right. First, it is shameful for a self-styled Lion to hide inside a hole like a coyote, thereby eating stale food reserved for effeminate animals. Don’t they say that the leopard, and by extension, the lion, does not eat stale food? (Ekun kii je’ran ikasi). It is thus lawless of Yahaya Bello not to honour the anti-graft body’s lawful invitation. Bello’s 8-year reign was notorious for his naked stomping on opposition’s human rights, running a government fittingly described as an orgy of violence. Why are executioners always afraid when swords are flung in their faces? His is reminiscent of the story of an executioner in Old Oyo Kingdom whose specialty was in decapitating his victims with relish. Upon courting the ire of the Alaafin and was sentenced to death, the ex-executioner suddenly became jittery. When the man about to decapitate him began to do the traditional acrobatics pre-cutting off of his head, jittery, the ex-executioner’s voice shaky, he asked what part of his body would be cut off, “my head or feet?” Celebratory townsmen who had gathered to witness his comeuppance were angered and demanded rhetorically what part of his victims’ bodies he relished in cutting off during his reign of terror.

Anthropologists of the in the pre-colonial era of the 20th century studying witchcraft were shocked. They had earlier submitted that occult practices would die with modernization and urbanization. However, in the last two decades, modernity seems to have lost the battle in Africa. The miserable and insecure nature of everyday life has made African politicians to go two steps backwards. Rather than the Gods of Christianity and Islam which they inherited from the colonizers, they have gone back to ancient practices preceding the incursion of Arab and European lords. Now, the patronage of priests, priestesses of divinities, herbalists, sorcerers and occults is key to resolution of political dilemmas. Politicians use charms, amulets, rings, belts, ritual, incantations for the attainment of political goals. Either it was a skit or reality, that viral video of enchanters seeking Yahaya Bello to be set free typifies the usual scene in power relations in Africa. In the bid to attain, sustain or vend off irritants in political power struggles, there is widespread evidence confirming that many Africans today strongly hold on to beliefs which they got from traditional cosmologies. These have now constituted the core of their everyday lives. The Kenyan Mau Mau revolt is said to have been fought with African magical powers.

Magical and ritual practices are pervasive in power relations in Nigeria. This evidently affirms that when complicated issues and challenges of life confront Nigerian politicians, they quickly run to their tradition and origin. This equally demonstrates the ease with which they momentarily throw away their Christian and Islamic cloaks to hold on to the utilitarian purpose that magic and sorcery serve them. Late University of Leiden scholar, Stephen Ellis, in a 2001 article, “Mystical Efforts: Some evidence from the Liberian war” (Journal of Religion in AfricaXXX1, 2) described how young fighters in the Liberian war, sporting amulets which assumably made them bullet-proof, filled the streets with corpses. Monrovians were shocked at how the soldiers “(disemboweled) the bodies of their victims and (eat) their flesh or internal organs, particularly the heart.” The art of eating human heart is borne of a residue of practices in Africa. The belief is that, a person’s essence is contained in the heart and the blood. So, once the hearts and blood of these warriors are eaten and drunk, “the one who had just eaten them acquires some of the power formerly possessed by his victim.”

Wherever Bello is at the moment, no one needed to be told that he is engrossed with one or a combination of three elements in the bid to confront the coercive power of the Nigerian state. In the tragedy that is Yahaya Bello, these three elements must be making gross harvests from his calamity. They are, on the one hand, the religious combine made up of Pastors, Alfas and African indigenous religious rituals and magic. The second is, lawyers scrambling to profit from what they perceive as the loot from Kogi. Some shameless ones gathered in court last week to protest against the EFCC. The third is bloggers/journalists who by now must have offered to defreeze adversarial comments against him in traditional and social media platforms.

As guest speaker at a 2-day education summit which held in Port Harcourt, Rivers State in 2013, Nobel Laureate, Prof. Wole Soyinka, waded into the now popular syncretic practices among Nigerian leaders. His particular beef was with Nigerian leaders’ dependence on consultation of marabouts and prophets to acquire and sustain political power. “Give me the name of any head of state who has not been consulting marabouts and prophets and so on, sacrificing goats, animals in the dead of night to receive a third term in office and so on,” he said. The veiled reference was to Olusegun Obasanjo. Marabouts have become notorious in the incestuous relationship between politics and religion in northern Nigeria. They are traditionally Muslim religious leaders and teachers who functioned historically as chaplains serving in Islamic army of North Africa, the Sahara, and in the Maghreb.

Soyinka was right. After the Gideon Orkar volley of bullets on the Dodan Barracks seat of power had subsided, it occurred to General Ibrahim Babangida that kinetic power alone could not guarantee his safety in power. IBB was reported to have consulted marabouts from Senegal who promptly buried live cows in Aso Rock to guarantee his fortification. Same went for General Sani Abacha who reportedly imported seasoned marabouts to spiritually guard Aso Rock. Bowels of the four corners of Abuja reportedly opened up their wombs and swallowed countless cows in sacrifice. Marabouts from Cameroun were also said to have assured the then Vice President Atiku Abubakar that Olusegun Obasanjo would not have a second term, thus exacerbating the animosity between the president and his vice.

Spiritism is not strictly a Nigerian phenomenon in power relations. In political in-fighting among political elites, the belief is that, once the elites gain access to the spiritual world, they have clinched the needed vital resource in the constant struggle to secure advantage over their political rivals. Communication with the spirit world, use of sacrifices and protective objects, and divinations were potent means of achieving this. For instance, in Senegal, marabouts or Islamic holy men who belong to Sufi brotherhoods, wield such phenomenal influence that made them a source of political influence for decades. When Zimbabwe was fighting its war of liberation, the advice offered by mediums, believed to be possessed by spirits of ancestors, constituted a major requirement for anyone who sought the people’s political support.

President Felix Houphouet-Boigny was an example. A devout Catholic, he was said to have privately resorted to African mediums. Mobutu Sese Seko of Zaire also ran a government of elite conspiracy of witches where marabouts were consulted at every point for the enhancement of political power.

For very many other African heads of state, clerics and known spiritualists were their advisors. Kenneth Kaunda was top among them. As president of Zambia, he had an Indian, Dr Ranganathan, as consultant on power matters. So also did President Mathieu Kerekou of Benin. He had a Malian marabout called Mohamed Amadou Cisse, also known as ‘Djine’ or ‘the Devil’ as his spiritual advisor. Cisse once publicly espoused the Devil. He was hitherto advisor to some other African leaders like Mobutu and Omar Bongo of Gabon. Kerekou later appointed Cisse minister of state whose responsibility in the Beninese government was secret services. President Didier Ratsiraka of Madagascar too had a palace that boasted of an extravagant temple dedicated to Rosicrucian god. So also did Paul Biya of Cameroon and Joaquim Chissano of Mozambique, both of whom were followers of Transcendental Meditation.

Marabouts, herbalists, sorcerers and occult chiefs of the Yahaya Bellos of this world and other African leaders become repositories of highly confidential state information. These are got in the process of spiritual interventions for the captive leaders. Feckless and desperate in the bid to attain and cling on to power, they divulge details of innermost governmental secrets to them. A 1998-published journal article written by Stephen Ellis and Gerrie ter Haar with the title, “Religion and Politics in Sub-Saharan Africa” (The Journal of Modern African Studies, Vol. 36, No. 2, pp. 175-201) discusses how leading marabouts have pre-knowledge of coups d’e tat and other secrets of power. Amadou Cisse, for instance, knew virtually all the secrets of power in Benin. So did another marabout, Amadou Oumarou ‘Bonkano’, who was appointed chief of national intelligence service. Having known details of President Seyni Kountche of Niger’s operations, Oumarou attempted a coup against Kountche, his patron and employer.

At a random and conservative estimate, ninety per cent of Nigerian politicians, aside the Christianity and Islam they profess in broad daylight, patronize priests, herbalists, sorcerers and occults. They probably have discovered that the immediacy of execution that these African deities possess cannot be found in the Western God. Again, I tend to submit that the rash of theft of public money among them is borne out of the presumed fortification they are promised by African deity priests and priestesses. They offer human beings as sacrifice in the process. Unknown to them, they kill the proverbial hunchback, Abuke Osin, the favourite servant of Obatala god, in the process of acquiring these powers. Unjustly shed blood fight back.

According to renowned living archive of Yoruba traditional institution, Yemi Elebuibon, in his The Adventures of Obatala: Ifa and Santeria God of creativity,(2016) the hunchback was one of the faithful servants of Obatala who he sent on errands. Having become rich due to his generosity to the Abuke Osin, Tortoise, Alabahun the fabled trickster, envied Ojugbe, his neighbour. Impressed by his generosity to the hunchback, Obatala chanted some incantations which deposited precious beads, gold and other ornaments inside the carapace-like chest of the hunchback. So when Ojugbe rubbed the hunchback’s chest, he became stupendously wealthy. Stingy and unable to compete with Ojugbe-kind generosity, Tortoise lured the Abuke Osin into his house and forcefully rubbed his chest which refused to emit money. He then killed this servant of Obatala and incurred the wrath of the god.

The moment the Nigerian state allows Yahaya Bello, for whatever reason, to escape the wrath of the law, its last lever of strength will snap off. Whoever kills the Abuke Osin should pay dearly for it.

Last modified on Sunday, 28 April 2024 07:42

The list of Nigerians who have attempted to set and break Guinness World Records for one achievement or another continues to expand, seemingly without any relent or end in sight. The running joke on social media now is that the Guinness World Records Book will soon be worn out by the time Nigerians are done with it.

And dry humour aside, it would very much begin to appear that way. After all, it was Hilda Bassey Effiong who opened the lid with her now famous cook-a-thon, and since that unforgettable time, the GWR fever has cut across the length and breadth of this country, with countless individuals riding the waves of this zeitgeist, and all of the Nigerian internet space coming together to sustain discourse around this new phenomenon. I watched a video of a young person on Facebook moving from one restaurant to another in an attempt to break the Guinness World Record for the highest number of restaurants visited by an individual, hoping to achieve over 120 visits within Abuja in 24 hours. Another young man has kickstarted a 150-hour ironing marathon, fully aware of the epileptic power supply in Nigeria. Such is the Nigerian spirit, the spirit of “if you can do it, I can do it too.”

But one man in particular has now managed to stand out in the midst of the record-breaking fever that has gripped the country. His story is the stuff of legends, everything in it showing the makings of an inspirational feature film. This man is none other than Tunde Onakoya, the chess maverick who took the world by storm in his attempt to break the world record for the longest chess marathon at the famous Times Square in New York. And yet, Onakoyaʼs fame (at least on the internet and select media channels) stems from the inspiring non-profit organization he is a co-founder of, Chess In Slums Africa.

As the name implies, the initiative revolves around Tundeʼs resolve to uplift and better the lives of street kids in impoverished sections of Lagos. The thoughtful initiative not only captured the hearts of people on social media, but grew considerably, drawing immense global support (financial donations trickled in, endorsements and partnerships beckoned) until Tunde Onakoya and his chess-playing mentees became literal internet sensations. According to a report published by HumAngle, “As of June 2021, Chess in Slums Africa had trained over 200 children and got lifelong scholarships for 20 of them.” Truly, it is possible to do great things from a small place, as Tunde once said.

Not only has the Chess In Slums initiative changed the lives of many youths and spoken to something positive, hopeful and beautiful about Nigeria. And this is majorly why many Nigerians in the USA came out to support Tunde as he attempted to break the current record of 56 hours, 9 minutes, and 37 seconds set by Norwegians Hallvard Haug Flatebo and Sjur Ferkingstad. Their support was not in vain at all, as Tunde would persevere and go on to break the record in grand style, playing alongside fellow chess master Shawn Martinez and others without losing a single game.

What makes Tunde Onakoya’s record attempt more unique is that he did not attempt to break the record just to gain recognition; he set out to achieve the feat to raise money for children of the poor and downtrodden who cannot afford basic needs. Even when he faced health problems during the game and was advised to quit, he refused to give up and said, “I will play on for the dreams of millions of children.”

Tunde himself confirmed the health problem he had during the campaign in his appreciation message to his fans and well-wishers on social media:

 

“Catching up on social media now and I’ve constantly fought back tears,” he tweeted.

“Love you guys very much. I’ll do a proper post when I get the right words to express all of the emotions I feel right now.

“Let me delve into this jollof rice for now. It’s my first meal in almost four days. I had food poisoning during the marathon so I couldn’t eat anything at all, just water.”

What’s interesting about Tunde’s chess heroics is that his father, like every other typical African parent who wants their children to pursue careers like law, medicine, aviation, engineering, and other top professions, never supported his choice of playing chess to carve a niche for himself. I can imagine how livid he would have been upon seeing young Tunde playing chess. Probably, he might have warned him to desist from playing it and focus instead on more important pursuits. Almost every African child has a story to tell about how their parents never wanted them to pursue careers outside the classroom, whether in football or other fields. I myself am a victim of African parents’ career expectations. However, like Tunde, I was not stubborn enough to defy my parents and pursue the envisioned beautiful career in football.

Tunde’s father, Pa Onakoya, is as joyful as a lark, seeing his son fly the country’s flag in faraway America. The icing on the cake is the house gifted to Tunde Onakoya’s parents by a Good Samaritan. He announced this good news via a post on his social media handle some hours ago: “Someone gifted my parents a new house today. It’s the single greatest thing anyone will ever do for me in this lifetime. Thank you. My mother worked as a cleaner in the same school I attended so I could get an education while my dad worked as a danfo driver/bus conductor so we could feed and survive. My greatest joy in life is to be able to give them both the life they truly deserve,” he said.

Tunde Onakoya’s story carries a great lesson for African parents. As guardians, we should avoid being rigid in steering our children towards specific career paths. Our aspirations may differ from what destiny has in store for them. While I empathize with Tunde’s father’s frustration at his son’s choice of chess over a conventional career like law or medicine, I understand that it stemmed from love, not malice. Contrary to certain online opinions, what the old man wanted for Tunde was the best in life. That’s why he even had to sell his house to pay for Tunde’s WAEC exams, according to reports. Personally, I would be perturbed if my son, whom I envision as the next Gani Faweinmi or a renowned consultant, suddenly expressed a desire to pursue chess. With Nigeria’s rich sports heritage in football, boxing, and more, chess might seem unconventional. However, the crux of Tunde’s journey lies in conviction. He held steadfast to his passion, and the rest is now history.

Ultimately, the love and support he received from Nigerians are another exemplification of the Nigerian spirit. Truly, we love ourselves. It does not matter whether you are Hausa, Igbo, or Yoruba, Christian or Muslim; just fly your country’s flag in a positive light, and Nigerians from all walks of life will assemble to support you, even to the ends of the earth.

Tunde’s insistence on carrying on in the face of his health challenges is yet another example of the Nigerian spirit. When faced with seemingly impossible challenges, we always find a way to surmount the odds with our never-say-die Nigerian spirit. Truly, Naija no dey carry last.

Congratulations, Tunde Onakoya. Thank you for making all of Nigeria proud. Keep on soaring to greater heights.

Zayd Ibn Isah can be reached via lawcadet1@gmail.com