The question is not where US President Donald Trump has not touched in less than 100 days in office. It is how the world is coping with the shock and devastation of his touch and the trail of chaos it is leaving behind.

Because of its vulnerabilities, Africa was never far from Trump’s reach. When the continent thought the looming mass deportation of immigrants and the scrapping of the United States Agency for International Development (USAID) were among the worst measures in the early days of Trump’s second term, he unleashed a body blow that has left South Africa in a daze.

As of March 23, South Africa’s Ambassador to the US, Ebrahim Rasool, arrived back in Cape Town to tumultuous cheers from large crowds after he departed Washington. He was declared persona non grata by the Trump administration on March 14 for his comments at a webinar.

Rasool’s ‘sin’

Secretary of State Marco Rubio described Rasool’s criticisms of President Trump’s policies as “unacceptable”, adding that the ambassador harboured animosity towards the US president. Rubio said on X, where he also announced the expulsion, Rasool “hates America.”

The last time the US declared a foreign ambassador persona non grata was 17 years ago, under President George W. Bush. And even then, it retaliated against Bolivia after that country expelled the US ambassador for allegedly interfering in its “internal affairs.”

What was it that Rasool said? He told a webinar hosted by a South African think tank that Trump was “mobilising a supremacism” and also trying to “project white victimhood as a dog whistle” as a reaction to the demographic reality of a diminishing white population.

He said, “We see it in the domestic politics of the USA, the MAGA movement as a response not simply to a supremacist instinct, but to very clear data that shows great demographic shifts in the USA in which the voting electorate in the USA is projected to become 48 percent white.”

Inconvenient truth

That was the inconvenient truth. Could it have been said differently? Did Rasool walk into a trap, or was Rubio’s excuse a red herring? Apart from Somalia, no other African country has been targeted by the new US administration as much as South Africa. 

First, there was an executive order freezing US assistance to Pretoria for alleged “unjust racial discrimination” against white Afrikaans over the Expropriation Act, which seeks to redistribute land in the country, and then followed the stoppage of the USAID-funded HIV/AIDS programme that has put hundreds of lives at risk.

Rasool did what he had to. I won’t remove anything from his words. Relations between Pretoria and Washington were already testy, and the beads holding them had been broken from the waist by Trump’s chaotic dance steps. It was not a matter of if but which way the beads would fall.

Behind the story

The anti-Pretoria lobby in the US has had it for South Africa for a long time, especially following that country’s stand against Israel in the ongoing war on Gaza.

During my visit to Israel last December, the talk at the Israeli Ministry of Foreign Affairs was that South Africa took a bribe of $2 billion from Iran to mount a case against the Benjamin Netanyahu government at the International Criminal Court (ICC), an allegation that diplomatic sources in Pretoria have denied.

Despite Trump’s expression of displeasure, South Africa said it would not withdraw its case of genocide against Israel, saying it is aware that “Standing by our principles sometimes has consequences.”

Silent Africa

Rasool’s eviction is another consequence of South Africa’s principled stand, and the country is taking it in its stride. My surprise is the loud silence over Trump’s decision across African capitals. The continent’s media have also treated the story like a footnote.

We’re not talking about the US evicting illegal immigrants or smashing drug gangs. We’re talking about an ambassador with a distinguished career in the foreign service who was first appointed to the US in 2010 under Barack Obama.

He served for five years and was reappointed because of his extensive US domestic politics experience and ability to navigate complex international relations.

Contrary to what Rubio would have the world believe, Rasool’s “cardinal sin” was championing the case against Israel at the ICC – a matter of principle for which the ambassador should have no regrets.

Either African governments and the AU are too shocked to offer a clear response, or the continent has accepted chaos as the inevitability of the Trump era.

Dangerous silence

Whatever it is, silence is a dangerous option. If Trump can evict the ambassador of one of Africa’s most consequential countries for expressing an inconvenient opinion, it is only a matter of time before the less endowed countries will be in the firing line.

An academic and diplomat who served in many conflict areas in Africa, Professor Babafemi Badejo, said, “South Africa has, of late, been leading many countries over Gaza-Palestine. About four-fifths of African countries are, at best, lukewarm on this issue.

“It’s not a surprise that African countries have been mute over the US Secretary of State’s action declaring the South African ambassador persona non grata.”

If South Africa’s primary offence is its position on the war in Gaza – a position shared by many African countries – why is the continent unable to rally against Rasool’s eviction? Why is the AU silent?

European example

 In 2018, three European countries – France, Germany and the UK – took a common stand against the US in response to Washington’s unilateral withdrawal from the comprehensive action plan to guarantee the nuclear agreement with Iran. They bypassed the dollar-trading system and set up their mechanism to trade with Tehran.

Why is Africa a spectator in its own case? “Fear of punishments and resignation to a life of minimal relevance, if at all, has been the stance of many African countries,” Badejo said. “How does a Lilliputian state begging for food aid for its people assert itself.”

Africa’s other reasons

There could be a less apparent reason Trump would get away with his diplomacy of bullying. Several African leaders would like to copy him. In West and Central Africa, for example, five countries – Burkina Faso, Mali, Niger, Guinea and Chad – are under military rule.

Four of them have broken away from the regional group ECOWAS. Their leaders, who might have been in soup in a different, bygone world, would now consider themselves lucky beneficiaries of a chaotic global order. The last thing they would want to do is to challenge Trump.

Apart from the President of Cote d’Ivoire, Alassane Ouattara, whose supporters are already urging to continue for a fourth term against the constitutionally approved limit, the presidents of three other African countries are pressing for an extended term limit, the sort of thing Trump is already hinting at.

I didn’t expect the South African Development Community (SADC) or the AU to call an extraordinary meeting to discuss Rasool’s expulsion. But it’s a measure of how weak and resigned we have become that neither an officer of these organisations nor an African head of state can call out his eviction.

It’s Rasool today. Trump’s next victim is not far away.

_______________________

Multichoice apartheid pricing?

I’m usually not one to interfere with the markets, whatever the invincible foxes or forces want to do. But how can you ignore the nonsense that Multichoice has been up to lately? The pay-tv service provider has increased fees in Nigeria by 21 percent through the backdoor while cutting subscription fees in South Africa by 38 percent! Why? It said the cut in South Africa was a token to subscribers for the cost of living crisis. And in Nigeria? You know the old story – inflation, infrastructure, blah, blah. I wouldn’t mind if Multichoice had a competitor. But it’s nonsense for this monopoly to make most of its profits in this so-called high-risk environment and use it to subsidise subscribers elsewhere.

We had a name for it: apartheid!

During an interview on Channels TV on Monday, Professor Wole Soyinka responded to critics who have been taunting him to “say something” about the present administration. In the interview, he said, “People should stop trying to work on my timetable for me. I had not swallowed an alarm clock. I don’t see why I should put my alarm on and say: ‘One year has passed, now, I must make an assessment’ if there is nothing I feel like talking about and if I am busy elsewhere.” Following his earlier statement when he visited Bola Tinubu at Aso Rock in 2023, that he only criticises a government after its first year, it must be disappointing to his monitors that they cannot put their hands in his mouth and force out words.

To be fair to him, Soyinka has not been exactly silent on Nigeria’s situation. He criticised Tinubu’s decision to declare a state of emergency in Rivers State, but his intervention was tame, lame, and lacking characteristic edginess. The Soyinka who once referred to President Goodluck Jonathan as “Nebuchadnezzar” because of a police siege on the National Assembly resorted to prevarications on Rivers’ state of emergency. Time truly changes everything. If Jonathan were Nebuchadnezzar, the enslaving king who lost his sanity at the height of his brutal reign, then to which biblical figure can one similarly liken Tinubu, under whose watch Nigerians have confronted a severe economic crisis and recorded an unparalleled number of human rights abuses? Rehoboam, perhaps. That was the king who ill-advisedly refused to lighten the strenuous taxes his predecessor had tolled the people, incited a public rebellion, and ended up balkanising a united kingdom.

Everyone, including the critics taunting Soyinka for bringing less than the blunt edges of his sharp wit to political discourses, knows he is in an awkward situation under the present administration. He and Tinubu are friends, and their close relationship reportedly started during their NADECO days. Ordinarily, it is hard for a social critic to take down a close friend in power. It is even harder for a man like Soyinka, who has set a high bar of radical public engagement, to continue to meet his own standards now that his buddy is the President. While he has built a towering profile around being an anti-establishment figure, he is part of the political establishment now, even if he does not hold any official position in Tinubu’s administration. He can no longer maintain his previous ideological stance on political issues, and he should make that clear to the public rather than promising to speak when he finally has something to say. There is nothing he will ever have to say on any issue that has to do with Tinubu’s administration that will not be considered tainted and even cynically prejudged, so why bother?

Perhaps if Soyinka had known that a day would come when Tinubu would become the President, he would have been more measured in his criticisms of previous administrations. He would not be in the awkward position where they jab him to prove his patriotic commitment to the nation by criticising an oppressive government now run by his dear friend. The past cannot be helped, but he should also be able to clearly state to the public on whose behalf he has advocated for years, why he would hang up his boxing gloves this time around. It will not be a crime, nor will it mean he has lost the patriotic zeal that pushed him into lifelong social advocacy; it would just be practical under the circumstances. It is not enough to say, “I will speak when I have something to say,” but you must also be accountable enough to the public to point out your closeness to the political subject, how it compromises you, and why you would take a pass on political commentary. Without being upfront about why you have nothing to say during an oppressive reign when you would have had more than enough to say if your friends were not involved, you damage your public image and legacy. Respecting the public enough to be honest about your limits under the circumstances means you can frame your actions as courtesy to a friend rather than leave them to be interpreted as cowardice or hypocrisy.

One of the several fallouts of the ascendance of the All Progressives Congress to the national stage from being a regional party is that it forcefully retired many anti-establishment figures. Many of them cut their critical teeth railing against the Peoples Democratic Party machine that was in power for 16 years. While at it, they also fraternised with the Alliance for Democracy/APC, the political party that also defined itself against the state. Their mutual affiliation was logical for reasons ranging from ethnic sentiment to the lush funds Tinubu provided from Lagos’ purse. When the APC won the Presidency in 2015, many of them found themselves in the uncomfortable position where they could either maintain their oppositional stance (and risk offending their APC allies) or become apologists for a government that duplicated every political action for which they once attacked the PDP. Before many could figure out their roles under the dispensation, the dynamics of Nigerian political opposition changed. The old guard was replaced by a younger generation who quickly made it clear they would have nothing to do with them.

Soyinka was one of those who soldiered on, although one can argue that his criticisms of the Muhammadu Buhari administration curiously coincided with the sidelining of Tinubu among the APC establishment. While I do not think he is a card-carrying member of the APC, Soyinka’s political posture since 1999 has favoured the AD/APC political class more than any other collective in Nigeria. Now that the same Tinubu has made it to the Presidency, Soyinka is in an even more complicated place. There is no winning for him under the circumstances other than acknowledging that some personal relationships necessarily compromise us. The writer E.M. Forster once said, “If I had to choose between betraying my country and betraying my friend, I hope I should have the guts to betray my country.” This should be one of the times when choosing your friend over your country is the right thing to do.

This is not the first time friendship has put Soyinka in an awkward position where he has to self-justify. In 2016, during one of the many squabbles between Rivers Governor Rotimi Amaechi and his successor Nyesom Wike, it was revealed that the former had spent N82m (about $165,000) to host him to a dinner. Wike’s boys pulled that detail out from official records for no other reason than to embarrass Soyinka, whose intervention in the Rivers matter was perceived as fighting Amaechi’s battles. Soyinka’s response was to deny it was his “business to probe into the catering and logistical implications of the hundreds of institutions and governments all over the world to whom I acknowledge an immense debt of unsolicited recognition over the years”. Yes, while no reasonable person expects a Nobel Prize winner to ask such questions when he is hosted at a dinner, the right thing would have been to condemn such an inordinate expense made in your name. By not calling out Amaechi’s corruption, he fell into Wike’s well-laid trap to make him choose between his friend and the strict moral principles for which he is renowned.

Now he is in another situation that warrants choosing between his friend and his principles, and I suggest he chooses the former. We can borrow the immortal wisdom of Ogbuefi Ezeudu in Things Fall Apart, who told Okonkwo: “That boy calls you father. Do not bear a hand in his death to remind him this unpleasant task needs not to involve him.” Soyinka was right that other people—the Falanas, Sowores, and the Baiyewus—are already doing a good job without him. The thing is, by looking away from his friend’s administrative shortcomings, he will also be losing the moral right to comment on any other leader after Tinubu. He should make peace with that.

At the instance of the Emir of Qatar, Sheikh Tamim bin Hamad Al Thani, President Felix Tshisekedi of the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) and his Rwandan counterpart, President Paul Kagame met in Doha last week in a bid to end the ongoing war in the DRC. The mindless violence in the eastern part of the country, according to the United Nations, has created one of the worst humanitarian crises in history, impacting nearly seven million people—half of them children. The situation is becoming even more dire with the recent capture of two major cities in eastern DRC, Goma and Bukavu, by Rwanda-backed M23 rebels. But in Doha, both Kagame and Tshisekedi agreed on an “immediate and unconditional ceasefire” that seems easier said than done.

Instructively, at about the time the two leaders were meeting, a video was trending on social media of an interview granted by Kagame where he brutally disparaged his Congolese colleague. “You know Felix (President Tshisekedi) spent many years in Belgium. He was a taxi driver. He was many things of that kind but with a very bad reputation. He was employed by an Italian man, an old man now, who had a shop selling pizza. Felix used to deliver Pizza for him,” Kagame claimed in the interview. “When this old man heard that Felix had become president of his country he said, ‘Oh, my God! Felix that couldn’t even do the job of delivering pizza, how did he become president?’”

I shared the anecdote at the 60th birthday colloquium in honour of Hon Emeka Ihedioha on Monday. Chaired by former President Olusegun Obasanjo, I had been conscripted to discuss the paper presented by Bishop Hassan Matthew Kukah on the theme, ‘Is Democracy failing in Africa?’ along with Alhaji Aminu Tambuwal and Mr Peter Obi, both of whom need no further introduction. The moderator, Maupe Ogun-Yusuf of Channels Television, had sought our views on whether democracy is indeed failing on the continent. With Tambuwal answering ‘No’ and Obi saying ‘Yes’, I responded with, ‘Yes and No.’ As a member of the birthday planning committee chaired by former Cross River State Governor Liyel Imoke (who decreed that I be on the panel at the last minute), we were deliberate about the kind of conversation we wanted to provoke.

After the session, Senator Anyim Pius Anyim (also needs no further introduction) told me that he thought my punchline would be that a man who could not deliver pizza would be incapable of delivering democracy and good governance to his people as president. That precisely was the point Kagame made, but I was hesitant to amplify his message that if Tshisekedi was found wanting in the simple task of prompt pizza delivery, it was expecting too much to saddle him with presiding over one of the most resource-endowed countries in Africa. Although I made the point in passing, I deliberately avoided pushing the envelope because it would detract from my central argument within the three minutes I was given. Besides, I had my doubts about the veracity of Kagame’s claim.

From my online check, the report Kagame alluded to was published by a Rwandese journalist, Tom Ndahiro who referenced a Belgian publication. One Francisco Piscopo, owner of Pizzeria Godo in Brussels, was said to have recalled his time employing Tshisekedi for three years. “He runs Congo the same way he delivered pizzas: always late, disorganized, and with missing funds that no one can explain” Piscopo reportedly said. “If I could give him one piece of advice, it would be to take his responsibilities more seriously.” I have read reports which suggest that the story was made up since Tshisekedi comes from a privileged background. His late father, Étienne Tshisekedi, was Prime Minister of Zaire in the 90s. When children of African leaders go to school or reside abroad, they rarely do odd jobs such as selling pizza. Therefore, I would rather take the Felix who couldn’t deliver pizza as a metaphor. I will come back to this shortly.

Every democracy, Kukah said in his thought-provoking presentation, is a work in progress. “Democracy gives you the opportunity to try if you failed and gives you a greater opportunity to correct the former mistakes,” the Catholic Bishop of Sokoto Diocese stated. Tambuwal shared his position, but Obi disagreed. Obasanjo, of course, took a different slant. ‘Western type democracy’, he argued, seems too frail a plant to survive the African climate because it has been reduced to “government of a small number of people, by a small number of people, over a large number of people who are deprived of what they need to have in life.” My problem with Obasanjo’s thesis, on which he has been very consistent, is that it presupposes that the pre-colonial leadership model offers better prospects of delivering the public good.

It is interesting that just about a week ago, Obasanjo publicly lamented the process of selecting traditional rulers in the country. “Today, there are criminals, drug addicts, vagabonds, bandits and kidnappers as so-called traditional rulers” Obasanjo said. “This is a great pity, and it has greatly contributed to the problems of Nigeria. How do we account for a traditional ruler snatching a ballot box at an election polling station and running away with it?” he queried. Reflecting on the past, Obasanjo said traditional rulers used to command respect, particularly during the colonial and early post-independence periods, but not anymore. “The class of traditional rulers with their distinction, honour and dignity, as we knew them in the colonial days and early post-independence days, has been diluted and polluted.”

Although the former president is yet to clarify his thoughts on ‘Afro-democracy’ (perhaps he needs to write a book on the issue), it looks to me like a throw-back to the era of the all-powerful traditional ruler who cannot be questioned (‘Kabiyesi’ in Yoruba parlance). “It’s now our responsibility to chart our own course. Western liberal democracy introduced the concept of opposition, equating it with enmity. Yet, there’s nothing inherently African about this model,” Obasanjo told a House of Representatives delegation last year when they came to seek his support for their bill to replace the current presidential system with the parliamentary system we practiced in the First Republic. Incidentally, I also had an informal session with prominent members of the group in Abuja last year, and I made it clear to them that the challenge of democratic governance in Nigeria comes more from the operators than the constitution or the system of government. For instance, if the same traditional institution that worked in the past is now ‘diluted and polluted’, why does the former president believe that changing the system of government in Nigeria will not suffer a similar fate since it would be operated by the same set of people?

Indeed, nothing illustrates the crisis of the traditional institution better than the process that eventually culminated in the enthronement of the current Alaafin of Oyo, Oba Abimbola Owoade. A former vice-chancellor of Obafemi Awolowo University and globally renowned traditionalist, Professor Wande Abimbola, 92, whose intervention eventually led to a resolution of what had become a logjam, revealed some sordid details. “The kingmakers were consulted to pick a successor, and then interested individuals started giving hefty money to influence their decision. This later divided the rank of the kingmakers because they discovered that the money their leader shared to them was a far cry from what he collected,” Abimbola revealed while explaining how he was asked by Oyo State Governor Seyi Makinde to consult the Ifa Oracle on the matter. “The five kingmakers had earlier supported a particular prince who gave them the heaviest sum but after discovering the act perpetrated by their leader, two of them backtracked. They reached out to the government to say they were no longer in support of the candidate, adding that they just discovered that the money their leader collected from the said prince was incredibly heavy from which he gave them peanuts.” In Yorubaland today, according to Abimbola, enthroning a king is now a cash-and-carry affair. “They would buy generators, cars and what have you for the kingmakers to influence the process. The kingmakers may collect money from a hundred candidates, it’s the highest bidder that they will give the stool to. That’s how they are doing it now.”

The lesson is that there is no system that cannot be compromised. So, at the end of the day, it’s about fidelity to the rules of engagement by the operators and being accountable to the people. But before I conclude, let me come back to the Rwandese journalist who amplified the statement of his president to knock Tshisekedi. According to Ndahiro, the fortune of a country is determined by the leader. So, if such an individual lacks the requisite qualities of discipline, honesty and dedication to duties, it is their people who would suffer the consequences. “The man who once struggled to deliver pizzas in Brussels and now struggles to deliver governance in the DR Congo, serves as a lesson in why evaluating a leader’s past is critical to understanding their potential for national leadership”, Ndahiro wrote, while highlighting what he sees as the failings of Tshisekedi.

 I do not agree with the clearly partisan premise of Ndahiro, but it is difficult to fault his thesis that a leadership recruitment process that ignores such important factors is doomed. Therefore, whether it is ‘Western style democracy’ or the traditional system of the pre-colonial era, if the person at the helm is a ‘Felix that couldn’t deliver pizza’, the system would also not deliver on the public good.

Since whatever goes for Nigeria goes for Africa, the crisis of democracy on the continent is the result of a combination of history, cultural deformities and impunity by a succession of leaders. In post-colonial Africa, the traditional codes of competence, discipline and integrity have also been superseded and replaced by the anarchy of cultism, the worship of corrupt money and transactional religion. And democracy or whatever other system we come up with can only reflect these factors in our contemporary society. The pertinent question therefore is, how do we enthrone a system that shuts out those like ‘Felix that couldn’t deliver pizza’ from critical leadership positions?

That for me is the real challenge across board, and in all spheres of our national life.

Bereavement of Wunti, Ehusani

Hajiya Aishatu Al Mustapha died last week in Bauchi State. She was the mother of my friend, Bala Wunti, the Chief Health, Safety and Environment Officer of the NNPC Ltd. May God comfort the family she left behind. And may He grant her Aljannah Firdaus. Also yesterday in Abuja, I attended the Service of Songs and Mass for Mama Catherine Matureyi Ehusani, mother of Father George Ehusani, who also preached a very powerful sermon at the occasion attended by many Catholic priests, including John Cardinal Onaiyekan. She will be buried today in Okene, Kogi State. In the tribute to his late mother written as a poem, Father George recollects: Like a weary caravan sighting an oasis/I skid at my mother’s love/With a smile as wide as the sea/For an embrace as deep as the ocean.

May she find perfect peace and may God continue to comfort the family. 

 Ayo Olukanni @ 70

Former Nigeria ambassador to Australia with concurrent accreditation to New Zealand, Fiji, Papua New Guinea and Vanuatu, Mr Ayo Olukanni, is 70 today. A career diplomat who had at various times also served in Brussels, New York, Tel Aviv, Nairobi, Vienna etc was for four years the Director General of the Nigerian Association of Chambers of Commerce, Industry, Mines, and Agriculture (NACCIMA) after his tour of duty in foreign service. I first met Olukanni when I was presidential spokesman, and he was spokesman to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs at the time. Despite being senior to me in age and not minding his public service experience and exposure, he treated me with much respect and sought the assistance of my office all the time. With that, we worked seamlessly together. As he joins the elite Septuagenarian Club today, I can only wish him happy birthday, long life and good health.

Since late February when Senator Natasha Akpoti-Uduaghan nearly brought down the roof of the Senate, wagging her finger at the Senate President and shouting, ‘’I’m not afraid of you’’, Nigerian women have found their voice and are rising to assert their influence. Akpoti-Uduaghan’s sexual harassment allegation against Akpabio and her relentless pursuit of the matter have further pumped up our women fold; creating a sense in them that they can’t remain silent further. The other day at the airport, a woman caused a stir as she shouted at a middle aged man, ‘’If you cross me, I will deal ruthlessly with you’’. I don’t know what the matter was, but I had to quickly walk away from the scene. On talk shows, women activists are punching the air to make their points on the issue of gender equality and reiterate their support for the embattled Kogi Senator. Last Saturday, a female guest in a TV interview looked intensely into the camera and bellowed out: ‘’we’ve been quiet for so long. It’s time we, the women, came out of our shells and teach the men some lessons’’. But nothing prepared me for the shock of last night when Dr. Oby Ezekwesili, former Vice President for Africa at the World Bank and former Minister of Education, nearly came to blows with Senator Onyekachi Nwebonyi, deputy chief whip of the senate. I have never seen Ezekweisili so agitated, irascible and emotional.

It was at the sitting of the Senate Committee on Ethics where Akpoti-Uduaghan’s petition against Akapbio was to be heard, and the former minister was there in her capacity as the Country Chair of Women Political Leaders (WPL), a nonprofit foundation that operates as a global network of female political leaders. Nwebonyi attended as a representative of the Senate President, who has been in the centre of the storm. According to Nwebonyi, trouble started when the petitioner and his lawyer refused to go on oath before they could make their presentation. Nwebonyi told Arise News: ‘’When they refused to take the oath, I asked the Chairman of the Committee to call off the meeting as the petitioner was not ready. That’s when Dr. Ezekwesili told me ‘shut up your mouth. You are a hooligan’. A shouting match then ensued. Nigerians are sharply divided on who to blame for the altercation. While some argue that as a man, Nwebonyi should have kept quiet and received Ezekwesili’s insults with equanimity, others claim that the former minister ought not to have been rude to the man, a principal officer of the Nigerian Senate, no matter her status. In any case, Nwebonyi was not even addressing her when she interjected with ‘’Shut up your mouth’’.

I have known Ezekwesili right from our days in the university in the 1980s as a respectful, courteous and good-natured, but independent minded person, and I have never thought that a day would come when she would call a senator a ‘’hooligan’’. The anger, emotions and the adrenalins we have seen in Nigerian women since the Akpoti-Uduaghan saga have been enormous. Many have thrown away self restraint as they try to make their point. This is their ‘’Me too’’ moment. I recall that #MeToo started in the US as a social movement and awareness campaign against sexual abuse, sexual harassment and rape culture in which women publicize their experiences of sexual abuse or harassment. The phrase ‘’Me Too’’ was initially used in this context in the US in 2006, on Myspace, by a sexual assault survivor and activist, Ms Tarana Burke; and the hashtag #MeToo was used in 2017 as a way to draw attention to the magnitude of the problem in the US. ‘’MeeToo’’ is therefore meant to empower those who have been sexually assaulted through empathy, solidarity and strength in numbers, by visibly demonstrating the depth of the problems, especially at workplace. So far, Nigerian activists have not used the hashtag #MeToo in their advocacy, but I will not be surprised if someone comes up with a typically Nigerian creative slogan. It’s not long ago that we had #EndSARs; #EndBadGovernance and #NoGreeForAnybody.

Now that personalities like Oby Ezekwesili have come out to openly identify with Akpoti-Uduaghan, it is important that Nigerian men realize just how important this issue is to our womenfolk; how sensitive they are to such matters, and that the women are fighting back in unimaginable ways. To my fellow men, let me warn that the era of leering lustfully at women or making comments about a woman’s bust or length of her skirt is gone. You could be accused of sexual harassment for passing what you think is an innocuous joke. Last May, Mrs Simisola Ajayi, an assistant to the Minister of Foreign Affairs had accused the Permanent Secretary in the Ministry, Ibrahim Lamuwa, of sexual harassment. Mrs Ajayi had petitioned the then Head of the Civil Service of the Federation, Mrs Folashade Yemi-Esan of serially making passes at her despite her status as a married woman. Then Head of Service promptly suspended the Perm Sec, but the matter had since died. Attempts by the House of Representatives to weigh into the matter quickly fizzled out. Activists like Dr. Ezekwesili did not even bother to comment on it, perhaps because Mrs Ajayi is not a senator. That’s how Nigeria works. If you are not a big man (or woman), nobody fights your fight. The reason Natasha’s matter has become an international embarrassment is because she is a beautiful senator married to a Warri chief. If she were a teacher in my village, nobody would listen to her even if her headmaster had torn her skirt!

Nigerian women are fighting back to assert their position as equal partners in society and demand for respect, recognition and a place at the table. But like all struggles, this one requires good strategies and long-term planning; not emotions and insults.