The Federal Road Safety Corps (FRSC) in Bauchi state has deployed 820 personnel and commenced ‘operation Eid-el-kabir’ to ensure a hitch-free celebration.

Mr Istifanus Ibrahim, the Sector Commander of FRSC in the state, stated this in an interview with newsmen on Thursday.

According to him, the personnel includes both regular and special marshals, adding that they had been deployed to strategic locations and praying grounds for traffic control.

He explained that the corps also deployed 18 patrol vehicles, five ambulances, six tow trucks to strategic locations across the state for enforcement, traffic control, rescue services and clearing of anticipated road obstruction during the Sallah celebrations.

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“The command will ensure zero road traffic crash, prompt clearance of obstructions and ensure free flow of traffic due to the anticipated high volume of human and vehicular traffic during the period.

“In order to achieve effective compliance to road traffic rules throughout the period, FRSC Bauchi will carry out mobile court sittings, public enlightenment in motor parks, Mosques, Churches and on media platforms,” he said.

Ibrahim further reiterated the need for all Stakeholders to work together to reduce road traffic crashes on the roads.

The Sector Commander, who explained that the ‘Operation Eid-el-kabir’ commenced on Thursday, 5th of June, added that it would last till 11th of June, 2025.

Tunde Odesola

Jonathan Love and Taylor Steele are Americans. They are also my buddies at work. Jonathan is black; Taylor is white. The three of us could have perished in a ghastly auto accident on the morning of Tuesday, June 3, 2025, with me behind the wheel. “I need a dip, soda and sausage biscuit,” Taylor said with the expectation of a farmer on a rainy day. “I need soda and a sausage biscuit,” Jonathan stated assuredly like a pilot on a fine-weather day. So, I pulled off the highway into a gas station, and the two hopped out like students returning to school after a long holiday.

Drenching sugar, dripping salt and embalming preservatives; oh, how I dislike fast foods! The US, statistics say, devours more sugar than any other nation on God’s spinning earth. Rather than eat fast food, I’ll snack on rat neutraliser – I don’t want to say poison. I mean, I prefer home-made meals, anytime.

While Jonathan and Taylor were gone, I reached for my phone and entered the fray of modern distraction – Facebook, the ‘bolekaja’ of social media. ‘Bolekaja’ is a Yoruba slang for ‘alight, let’s fight’ – a fitting name for a platform whose oxygen is argument.

None of the drama in the
‘Bolekaja’ was interesting, so I migrated to WhatsApp. WhatsApp is the ‘Face Me–I–Slap You’ apartment of social media, where you’re safe in your room, but the moment you step out to mingle, you could be hit by anything.

A banker friend in the UK, Adeola Ojo, had sent me some skits on WhatsApp. I was watching one of the skits when Taylor opened the passenger door and sat beside me in the front while we waited for Jonathan. Taylor is in the habit of peeking at people’s phones, but I don’t mind. Mouth-watering Nigerian foods were on parade in the skit I was watching when Taylor got in the car. Some of the sumptuous meals being scooped into colourful plates came with orisirisi combinations: amala, gbegiri and ewedu swirling like a brown-and-green river; edika ikong cuddling fufu; eba serenading afang; moin moin hugging eko; cocoyam blessing bitterleaf soup; semo in tête-à-tête with oha; and ikokore – the secret of wateryam discovered by the Ijebu, rich and irresistible…while Taylor peeped away at my phone.

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Then the wooden spoon scooped three large portions of snow-white pounded yam into a bowl, and Taylor, mouth ajar and mind afar, shouted, “Oh! Ice cream!” Yes, he screamed. If I were on the highway when he said that, only mercy could have sent us back to the land of the living from the gates of heaven.

Thank God we three got back to work in one piece. Thank God none of us took temporary accommodation in the morgue, pending autopsy, en route to burial. Thank God, no one was injured. Thank God! Thank God!

Taylor asked me why I was reeling with laughter, I couldn’t explain to him because he would not understand; yam is not an American staple. So, how would he understand pounded yam? I just laughed and laughed for it was the only thing I could do; oro buruku tohun, terin – gloom accommodates laughter. Since I was a kid, I had learnt that when yam transmutes, it becomes pounded yam – isu parada, o d’iyan; but here I am, America is teaching me something different.

When one arrives at work, one must work: ti a ba de ibi ise, a ma n se ni, says a wise saying from my roots. In African culture, labour is sacred, it’s not just a meal ticket. Be you a farmer, hunter, fisherman, weaver, herbalist – no matter the work you do, there’s dignity in your labour.

But there are some jobs I can never, ever do. The topmost of such jobs is the work of Abobaku – the one who is buried with the king. I cannot come and die with any king o. Ah! Lai, lai! The Abobaku concept espoused in yesteryear Yoruba culture leans more on class manipulation and superiority complex than preservation of cosmic balance.

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In “Death and the King’s Horseman,” Nobel laureate Wole Soyinka, explores the themes of death, betrayal, cultural identity, duty, colonialism, disruption, metaphysics, etc when Elesin – the Abobaku in the play – refuses to be buried with the king.

Sadly, the royal manipulation of ancient times has transmogrified into political and religious manipulation today, with many political zombies dying for their godfathers and spiritual fathers. This is evident in the way millions of PSP – Poverty-Stricken People – stupidly support some politicians whose actions have worsened poverty in the land. It also accounts for why some religious leaders would sell bulletproof vests to their adherents while the Papas and Mamas go about in bulletproof vehicles.

I’m yet to find a description worse than national shame the manner the Bola Tinubu administration celebrated the mouthed completion of 30 kilometers of the 750km Lagos-Calabar coastal highway. Adults who dance on the streets, celebrating four percent as a pass mark, should be chained to the iroko tree, lest they stray into the market.

Religious manipulation has produced a multitude of fake pastors like David Ibiyeo-Money and Jeremiah Funfeyin, Idabosky, etc as well as their Muslim counterparts, who preach exploitative doctrines to yoke their gullible followers with fear and guilt, making them part with their money easily.

Another job I can never do, even if it pays $10m per month is the job of an ìwèfà . In ancient Yoruba times, an ìwèfà was the young male who catered to the needs of the king’s harem. To forestall cross-pollination and pollution of the blue bloodline, the ìwèfà is castrated. Slaves were mostly picked for this job. The ìwèfà is preserved to preserve the king’s pleasure. He’s the cockless cock that craves the corn in a bottle.

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Moses saw the Promised Land, but he didn’t enter it with the Israelites. May that not be our portion. I can never take up the job of security official during football matches, backing the field of play while action is ongoing, and watching whether some delirious fan is going to run onto the field. In the UEFA Champions League final played at the Munich Football Arena, Munich, Germany, between PSG and Inter Milan, many stadium security officials backed the pitch and watched the fans to ensure crowd control. To back the field and watch jubilating fans celebrating or mourning the 5-0 worsting of Inter by a merciless PSG side was to suffer a fate similar to that of an ìwèfà.

There are three jobs I covet. I’ve been praying to God to give me the three jobs at the same time. The first is the job of Alhaji Abdullahi Ganduje, the hardworking national chairman of the All Progressives Congress. When I get the job, I’ll be doing absolutely nothing but just busy myself with sewing many starched agbada with pockets large enough to stuff dollars and an elephant.

The second job is that of the Minister of the Federal Capital Territory, Nyesom Wike. In the office, I will be croaking and causing wahala in my state, Osun, trampling on the skulls and limbs of the living and the dead, like a crazed cow in a china shop. So simple.

The third job is by no means easier than the first two. It’s the job of the Governor of Osun State, currently held by Asiwaju Jackson Nurudeen Ademola Adeleke. On the job, I’ll work hard, eat, sleep and dance to every sound like ikoto, the spinning toy, which staggers left and right, struggling hard to stay upright by itself without support. I’ll change my first name to Ajobiewe.

But there’s one job I’m unqualified to take because of my ancestry. It’s the job of the King of Iwo. However, I dare to say I’m not a US ex-convict like the present occupier of the stool, Oba Abdulrasheed Adekanbi. If I were the Oluwo, I wouldn’t have opened my mouth to tell the world that I wish to be called the Alaafin of Iwo because I know the title of the Alaafin was only a nickname that eventually became the main name. The actual title of the ruler of Oyo was Oloyo of Oyo, according to world-renowned Ifa scholar and priest, Chief Ifayemi Elebuibon.

In a telephone interview with me, Elebuibon said, “The name of the ruler of Oyo in ancient times was Olóyo Òrò-mòko (the powerful owner of Oyo Òrò who drinks pap) or Oba Eleyo Ajori Aje Olu Eni Gbara (the king who eats choice dishes cooked with shea butter).”

If I were the Oluwo, I would be content with my title, Oluwo, which means the god or lord of Iwo (Oluwa Iwo), instead of seeking the title, Alaafin, whose literal meaning – owner of a palace – is not as powerful as Oluwo.

Also, I will not rant in a viral video that Iwo was never under Ibadan when Ibadan had a standing army that defended Yoruba land, which included Iwo, against Fulani incursion. If I were the Oluwo, I’d keep my mouth shut and not belch when needless.

Email: tundeodes2003@yahoo.com

Facebook: @Tunde Odesola

X: @Tunde_Odesola

By Joseph Ebi Kanjo 

Foundation for Earth Rights Assembly (FERA), has called for collective action aimed at tackling plastic pollution across Nigeria and the world at large.

Executive Director, FERA, Mr. Nosa Tokunbor made the call in Benin on Thursday during a press briefing held by his organisation to commemorate this year’s World Environment Day with the theme: End Plastic Pollution.

Tokunbor, who described plastic waste crisis as “truly an issue of global concern,” noted that it requires “immediate action from policy makers, regulators, industry and civil society.
Plastic pollution permeates every corner of the planet-even in our bodies in the form of microplastics.”

“Plastic pollution is one of the great environmental challenges of the 21st century, causing wide-ranging damage to ecosystems and human health,” he added.

According to him, this is why this year’s campaign “encourages individuals, organizations, industries, and governments to adopt sustainable practices that drive systemic change.”

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He noted: “By now we are painfully aware that plastic waste poses a threat to our environment, including both marine and terrestrial ecosystems. Pollution touches all parts of the Earth.
As consumption and production intensify, pollution is becoming more extensive, pervasive and persistent.

“It damages ecosystems, and affects human health through the food we eat, the water we drink and the air we breathe.

“Humanity produces 2.1 billion tonnes of waste every year, while air pollution is responsible for 8 million premature deaths each year, according to a new United Nations Environment(UNEP) Report.”

He, therefore, called for “ambitious policies including a combination of investments in innovation and interventions aimed at increasing demand for circular solutions while restraining plastic consumption overall.”