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OPINION: Animals In Human Skin

Published

6 months ago

June 2, 2025

Tunde Odesola

Situated in a dark groove is a drum never to be beaten. Thin as a strand of hair, the delicate drum transmits sound waves. This drum does not speak; it only listens and understands, even before its owner does. This drum is located deep inside the ear, rightfully earning its name, eardrum.

Sounds travel into the ear canal in waves, vibrating the eardrum, which transmits sounds to the three tiny bones behind it. The tiny bones are named malleus, incus and stapes–fragile trinity inside the shrine of sound. Located in the middle ear, these three bones, also nicknamed the hammer, anvil and stirrup, are collectively called the ossicles, and they are the tiniest bones in human anatomy.

The little bones amplify sound vibrations from the eardrum and transmit them to the inner temple called the cochlea, where the mechanical sounds are converted into electric signals, which are sent to the brain.

Like an expert sound engineer mastering a tape, the brain reads the signals from the cochlea and, for instance, interprets the wah, wah of a crying baby and elicits empathy; transmits the clap of thunder and evokes fear; dissects the promises of politicians to provokes disdain; even as it identifies the blindfold of justice and demands fairness. To beat this drum is to shatter the membrane separating hearing from deafness; it is to wave sound goodbye.

But I know many drums that rejoice when sticks rain fierce strokes on them. Long before the written word wormed its way into print to produce a code of morality, the drum encapsulated society’s moral codes. The drum instructed, warned, praised, rebuked, prophesied and cursed. It told the truth absent in a million lying mouths. Give me a drum; drown the Nigerian political elite.

In Yoruba cosmology, drums are objects of worship because Àyàn Àgalú, the god of drumming, is capable of rewarding or reprimanding drummers, depending on the work of their hands. Àyàn Àgalú is the primordial spirit of drumming and divine custodian of rhythm. He’s believed to be the first ever deified ancestor to make the drum talk like a human, not just beat.

Every drummer in Yorubaland is called Àyàn, in relation to Àyàn Àgalú’s ancestral origin. For the African, particularly the Yoruba, the drum is a link to the past. It is not just the skin of an animal talking in a human voice, no; it is much more than òkùewúré ti o n fo ohùn bi ènìyàn, the drum provides a spiritual communication between the dead and the living.

When things are looking down for the Àyàn, he performs rites on his drums and calls on Àyàn Àgalú for a turnaround. The power of Àyàn Àgalú to change the fortunes of the drummer for good is encased in the saying, “Sèkèrè kii ba won re òdeìbànújé,” which means that the rattling gourd is never found at mournful occasions. It symbolises an expectation that the downturn being experienced by the drummer will fade away as joy is coming.

Aside from the foregoing roles drummers played in societal cohesion in time past, they are also intelligence officers in palaces–processing and disseminating signals, and on the warfronts–inspiring soldiers on courage, patriotism, gallantry and history.

Despite these roles, however, drummers were regarded as the dregs of society, whose reward included water suspension from pap, hence, they were referred to as “Alùlù gbomi èko”.

Many, many years ago, palaces had a retinue of drummers who woke, warned, praised and entertained kings and their royal households. Then, kings were not expected to entertain their subjects by playing the drum for them. But this narrative began to change when Prince Adetoyese Laoye emerged as the Timi of Ede on December 9, 1946, and embarked on a 29-year reign, which terminated in 1975.

Professor of History, Siyan Oyeweso, in his book, “The Quintessential Oba John Adetoyese Laoye I (1946 – 1975): Personification of Royalty and Culture”, describes Oba Adetoyese Laoye as the first Timi of Ede, who had a Western education.

Oyeweso says Oba Laoye, a dispenser, druggist and pharmacist, “Belonged to the tiny club of those Nigerian traditional rulers who historians refer to as ‘Intellectual Monarchs’ or ‘Philosopher Kings’…This class of monarchs has acquired Western education in the opening years of the 20th Century, and also distinguished themselves as authors and historians…”

According to Oyeweso, the father of Oba Laoye I, Prince Oyebisi Omolaoye, was a successful Muslim trader in Togo and a protégé of a white missionary named Dr Greene, who later returned with him to Ede. Prince Omolaoye begot a son and named him Yusuf Adetoyese Omolaoye. “At baptism, Adetoyese was christened John, but because Dr Greene could not pronounce the name Omolaoye properly, he shortened it to ’Laoye,” says Oyeweso.

Throughout his reign, Oba Laoye was a major protagonist of Yoruba renaissance as he upheld the dignity and unity of the traditional institution, says Oyeweso.

In the view of Oyeweso, Oba Laoye was an uncommon king who elevated drumming into an aristocratic art, not minding the view of the palace and society on drumming. He was the author of the signature tune for the Western Nigeria Broadcasting Service Corporation/Western Nigeria Television, (which says) ‘This is Nigeria Broadcasting Service’ (but) which has been variously interpreted as ‘B’olubadan ba ku, ta ni o joye’, ‘Ninu ikoko dudu lati n se’be’, ‘Gomina akoko o n’imu oru’, ‘Ko sionigbese ni bi, lo si ile keji’, ‘Ojegede dudu, inu ta bon’, ‘Belo Gbadamosi Olori Ole’, ‘Eko je’badan lowo, 13 pounds’.

Explaining the significance of drums to the African, the late Alaafin of Oyo, Oba Lamidi Adeyemi, said Yoruba talking drums were unique in their characteristic mimicry of human voice, stressing that no other drums worldwide had such a function. Adeyemi, who said this in an address captured in a viral video, maintained that drums were used for reasons such as teaching, worshipping, informing, news dissemination, intelligence and warfront duties, and entertainment.

“Drums are used in palaces and in the residences of dignitaries. Drummers advise the king about how to behave in public,” Adeyemi said. The close relationship between the king and drummers bred the proverb, “Oba kii mu o nkorin.” But this is not the case with Nigeria’s political class that gags freedom of speech and disregards the Freedom of Information Act.

In a telephone interview with me, cousin to Oba Laoye, Prince Adewale Laoye, says the late monarch picked drumming from the family of his mother, revealing that his own father, Prince Elkanah Olatinwo Laoye, was the Baba Kekere–a synonym for Chief of Staff–to Oba Laoye throughout his reign.

Adewale, who is the founder, Aafin Ilu–Palace of Drums–located in Ede, Osun State, says he established the institution to revamp various Yoruba drums, which are gradually going into extinction.

“My father was the younger brother of Timi Laoye I. Their mother had two boys and a girl, who was the lastborn. I was gifted a talking drum when I was three, and I still have the drum with me to date. It was given to me by my big uncle, Pa Ajao Ayangbayi, from my father’s mother’s side. My grandmother, Iya Odefunke Omoware Ayangbayi, was a drummer from Ile Ologun Compound in Ede,” Adewale explains.

He continues, “I went to some towns and realised they didn’t have a complete drum set like the dundun at their egungunfestival–this was what prompted the idea behind Palace of Drum. Many people tried to discourage me from playing drums, saying a prince shouldn’t be seen playing drums. Thank God for my supportive mother who stood by me, but she didn’t live to see me actualise my dream on drums. Oba Laoye and my father were both choir masters, who invested in music, with my father teaching me the art of music. I see Oba Laoye in my dreams, asking me who would continue the family’s tradition if I stopped?”

Despite the inroads of some monarchs into music, royalty and society still look down on musicians and drummers, in the main. Juju music maestro and Ondo prince, Sunday Adegeye, MFR, popularly known as King Sunny Ade, had to lie to his parents that he had gained admission into the University of Lagos, for him to leave Ondo and pursue his music career in Lagos. King of Fuji and Ijebu prince, Wasiu Ayinde, was luckier as his mother supported him when he decided to go and live with Fuji music creator, Alhaji Sikiru Ayinde Barrister, at a tender age.

It’s not only crowns that frown on princes taking up music as careers; wealthy and educated families also discourage their scions from becoming musicians. Afrobeats superstar, David Adeleke, aka Davido, is an example. His billionaire father, Dr Deji Adeleke, once got him arrested by the police, just to discourage him from singing.

I once had an interview with Deji’s elder brother and first Executive Governor of Osun, Alhaji Isiaka Adeleke, the Serubwon of Osun politics and patriarch of the Adeleke family. In the interview, Serubawon revealed how Davido blew all his school upkeep on a big piano while studying in the US and he had to give him another money, though not as much as the money he blew – just to teach him a lesson.

Culture expert, musician and ewi exponent, Chief Sulaimon Ayilara, aka Ajobiewe, advises, “If you visit a town and there’s no drumming there for three days, please, leave the town,” adding that the use of metals in martial music was a form of drumming too.

It is normal when animal skin talks like humans. But it is strange when animals wear human skin, according to Afrobeat king, Fela Anikulapo-Kuti, in Beasts of No Nation.

Plateau, Borno and many parts of the North have been turned into killing fields by terrorists, just as other parts of the country have been battling with other forms of killings and insecurity. The hopelessness of the government in tackling security and economic challenges is disturbing; the preoccupation of the government with corruption and politicking while the country boils is heartbreaking.

I see more animals in human skin at the helm nationwide than I see real humans. Animals are lording it over human beings. What do you see?

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Email: tundeodes2003@yahoo.com

Facebook: @Tunde Odesola

X: @Tunde_Odesola

News

Out-of-school: Group To Enroll Adolescent Mothers In Bauchi

Published

3 days ago

December 10, 2025

Editor

Women Child Youth Health and Education Initiative (WCY) with support from Malala Education Champion Network, have charted a way to enroll adolescent mothers to access education in Bauchi schools.

Rashida Mukaddas, the Executive Director, WCY stated this in Bauchi on Wednesday during a one-day planning and inception meeting with education stakeholders on Adolescent Mothers Education Access (AMEA) project of the organisation.

According to her, the project targeted three Local Government Areas of Bauchi, Misau and Katagum for implementation in the three years project.

She explained that all stakeholders in advancing education in the state would be engaged by the organisation to advocate for Girl-Child education.

The target, she added, was to ensure that as many as married adolescent mothers and girls were enrolled back in school in the state.

“Today marks an important step in our collective commitment to ensuring that every girl in Bauchi state, especially adolescent who are married, pregnant, or young mothers has the right, opportunity, and support to continue and complete her education.

“This project has been designed to address the real and persistent barriers that prevent too many adolescent mothers from returning to school or staying enrolled.

“It is to address the barriers preventing adolescent mothers from continuing and completing their education and adopting strategies that will create an enabling environment that safeguard girls’ rights to education while removing socio-cultural and economic obstacles,” said Mukaddas.

She further explained to the stakeholders that the success of the project depended on the strength of their collaboration, the alignment of their actions, and the commitments they forge toward the implementation of the project.

Also speaking, Mr Kamal Bello, the Project Officer of WCY, said that the collaboration of all the education stakeholders in the state with the organisation could ensure stronger enforcement of the Child Rights Law.

This, he said, could further ensure effective re-entry and retention policies for adolescent girls, increased community support for girls’ education and a Bauchi state where no girl was left behind because of marriage, pregnancy, or motherhood.

“It is observed that early marriage is one of the problems hindering girls’ access to education.

“This organisation is working toward ensuring that girls that have dropped out of school due to early marriage are re-enrolled back in school,” he said.

Education stakeholders present at the event included representatives from the state Ministry of Education, Justice, Budget and Economic Planning and Multilateral Coordination.

Others were representatives from International Federation of Women Lawyers, Adolescent Girls Initiative for Learning and Empowerment (AGILE), Bauchi state Agency for Mass Education, Civil Society Organization, Religious and Traditional institutions, among others.

They all welcomed and promised to support the project so as to ensure its effective implementation and achieve its set objectives in the state.

News

OPINION: Fubara, Adeleke And The Survival Dance

Published

3 days ago

December 10, 2025

Editor

By Israel Adebiyi

You should be aware by now that the dancing governor, Ademola Adeleke has danced his last dance in the colours of the Peoples Democratic Party. His counterpart in Rivers, Siminalayi Fubara has elected to follow some of his persecutors to the All Progressive Congress, after all “if you can’t beat them, you can join them.”
Politics in Nigeria has always been dramatic, but every now and then a pattern emerges that forces us to pause and think again about where our democracy is heading. This week on The Nation’s Pulse, that pattern is what I call the politics of survival. Two events in two different states have brought this into sharp focus. In both cases, sitting governors elected on the platform of the same party have found new homes elsewhere. Their decisions may look sudden, but they reveal deeper issues that have been growing under the surface for years.

In Rivers, Governor Siminalayi Fubara has crossed into the All Progressives Congress. In Osun, Governor Ademola Adeleke has moved to the Accord Party. These are not small shifts. These are moves by people at the top of their political careers, people who ordinarily should be the ones holding their parties together. When those at the highest levels start fleeing, it means the ground beneath them has become too shaky to stand on. It means something has broken.

A Yoruba proverb captures it perfectly: Iku to n pa oju gba eni, owe lo n pa fun ni. The death that visits your neighbour is sending you a message. The crisis that has engulfed the Peoples Democratic Party did not start today. It has been building like an untreated infection. Adeleke saw the signs early. He watched senior figures fight openly. He watched the party fail to resolve its zoning battles. He watched leaders undermine their own candidates. At some point, you begin to ask yourself a simple question: if this house collapses today, what happens to me? In Osun, where the competition between the two major parties has always been fierce, Adeleke was not going to sit back and become another casualty of a party that refused to heal itself. Survival became the most reasonable option.

His case makes sense when you consider the political temperature in Osun. This is a state where the opposition does not sleep. Every misstep is amplified. Every weakness is exploited. Adeleke has spent his time in office under constant scrutiny. Add that to the fact that the national structure of his party is wobbly, divided and uncertain about its future, and the move begins to look less like betrayal and more like self-preservation.

Rivers, however, tells a slightly different story. Fubara’s journey has been a long lesson in endurance. From the moment he emerged as governor, it became clear he was stepping into an environment loaded with expectations that had nothing to do with governance. His political godfather was not content with being a supporter. He wanted control. He wanted influence. He wanted obedience. Every decision was interpreted through the lens of loyalty. From the assembly crisis to the endless reconciliation meetings, to the barely hidden power struggles, Fubara spent more time fighting shadows than building the state he was elected to lead.

It soon became clear that he was governing through a maze of minefields. Those who should have been allies began to treat him like an accidental visitor in the Government House. The same legislators who were meant to be partners in governance suddenly became instruments of pressure. Orders came from places outside the official structure. Courtrooms turned into battlegrounds. At some point, even the national leadership of his party seemed unsure how to tame the situation. These storms did not come in seasons, they came in waves. One misunderstanding today. Another in two weeks. Another by the end of the month. Anyone watching closely could see that the governor was in a permanent state of emergency.

So when the winds started shifting again and lawmakers began to realign, those who understood the undercurrents knew exactly what was coming. Fubara knew too. A man can only take so much. After months of attacks, humiliations and attempts to cage his authority, the move to another party was not just political. It was personal. He had given the reconciliation process more chances than most would. He had swallowed more insults than any governor should. He had watched institutions bend and twist under the weight of private interests. In many ways, his defection is a declaration that he has finally chosen to protect himself.

But the bigger question is how we got here. How did two governors in two different parts of the country end up taking the same decision for different but related reasons? The answer goes back to the state of internal democracy in our parties. No party in Nigeria today fully practices the constitution it claims to follow. They have elaborate rules on paper but very loose habits in reality. They talk about fairness, but their primaries are often messy. They preach unity, but their caucuses are usually divided into rival camps. They call themselves democratic institutions, yet dissent is treated as disloyalty.

Political parties are supposed to be the engine rooms of democracy. They are the homes where ideas are debated, leaders are groomed, and future candidates are shaped. In Nigeria, they increasingly look like fighting arenas where the loudest voices drown out everyone else. When leaders ignore their own constitutions, the structure begins to crack. When factions begin to run parallel meetings, the foundation gets weaker. When decisions are forced down the throats of members, people begin making private plans for their future.

No governor wants to govern in chaos. No politician wants to be the last one standing in a sinking ship. This is why defections are becoming more common. A party that cannot manage itself cannot manage its members. And members who feel exposed will always look for safer ground.

But while these moves make sense for Adeleke and Fubara personally, the people they govern often become the ones left in confusion. Voters choose candidates partly because of party ideology, even if our ideologies are weak. They expect stability. They expect continuity. They expect that the mandate they gave will remain intact. So when a governor shifts political camp without prior consultation, the people feel blindsided. They begin to wonder whether their votes carry weight in a system where elected officials can switch platforms in the blink of an eye.

This is where the politics of survival becomes dangerous for democracy. If leaders keep prioritizing their personal safety over party stability, the system begins to lose coherence. Parties lose their identity. Elections lose their meaning. Governance becomes a game of musical chairs. Today you are here. Tomorrow you are there. Next week you may be somewhere else. The people become bystanders in a democracy that is supposed to revolve around them.

Rivers and Osun should serve as reminders that political parties need urgent restructuring. They need to rebuild trust internally. They need to enforce their constitutions consistently. They need to treat members as stakeholders, not spectators. When members feel protected, they stay. When they feel targeted, they run. This pattern will continue until parties learn the simple truth that power is not built by intimidation, but by inclusion.

There is also the question of what these defections mean for governance. When governors are dragged into endless party drama, service delivery suffers. Time that should be spent on roads, schools, hospitals, water projects and job creation ends up being spent in meetings, reconciliations and press briefings. Resources that should strengthen the state end up funding political battles. The public loses twice. First as witnesses to the drama. Then as victims of delayed or abandoned development.

In Rivers, the months of tension slowed down the government. Initiatives were stalled because the governor was busy trying to survive political ambush. In Osun, Adeleke had to juggle governance with internal fights in a crumbling party structure. Imagine what they could have achieved if they were not constantly looking over their shoulders.

Now, as both men settle into new political homes, the final question is whether these new homes will provide stability or merely temporary shelter. Nigeria’s politics teaches one consistent lesson. New alliances often come with new expectations. New platforms often come with new demands. And new godfathers often come with new conditions. Whether Adeleke and Fubara have truly found peace or simply bought time is something only time will tell.

But as citizens, what we must insist on is simple. The politics of survival should not become the politics of abandonment. Our leaders can fight for their political life, but they must not forget that they hold the people’s mandate. The hunger, poverty, insecurity and infrastructural decay that Nigerians face will not be solved by defection. It will be solved by steady leadership and functional governance.

The bigger lesson from Rivers and Osun is clear. If political parties in Nigeria continue on this path of disunity and internal sabotage, they will keep losing their brightest and most strategic figures. And if leaders keep running instead of reforming the system, then we will wake up one day to a democracy where the people are treated as an afterthought.

Governors may survive the storms. Parties may adjust to new alignments. But the people cannot keep paying the price. Nigeria deserves a democracy that works for the many, not the few. That is the real pulse of the nation.

News

Human Rights Day: Stakeholders Call For More Campaigns Against GBV

Published

3 days ago

December 10, 2025

Editor

Panel of discussants at an event to commemorate the International Human Rights Day, 2025 on Wednesday called for more campaigns against Gender-Based Violence, adding that it must start from the family.

The panel of discussants drawn from religious and community leaders, security agents, members of the civil society community, chiefs, etc, made the call in Benin in an event organised by Justice Development & Peace Centre (JDPC), Benin, in collaboration with Women Aid Collective (WACOL) with the theme: Multilevel Dialogue for Men, Women, Youth and Critical Take holders on the Prevention and Response to Gender-Based Violence (GBV).

The stakeholders, who said causes of GBV are enormous, called for more enlightenment and education in the family, community and the religious circle.

Security agents in the panel charged members of the public to report GBV cases to security agents regardless of the sex Involved, adding: “When GBV happens, it should be reported to the appropriate quarters. It doesn’t matter if the woman or the man is the victim. GBV perpetrators should not be covered up, they must be exposed. We are there to carry out the prosecution after carrying out the necessary investigation.”

Earlier in his opening remarks, Executive Director, JDPC, Rev. Fr. Benedicta Onwugbenu, lamented that (GBV) remains the most prevalent in the society yet hidden because of silence from victims.

According to him, GBV knows no age, gender or race, adding that “It affects people of all ages, whether man or woman, boy or girl.”

“It affects people from different backgrounds and communities, yet it remains hidden because of silence, stigma, and fear. Victims of GBV are suffering in silence.”

On her part, Programme Director, WACOL, Mrs. Francisca Nweke, who said “women are more affected, and that is why we are emphasising on them,” stressed “we are empowering Christian women and women leaders of culture for prevention and response to Gender-Based Violence in Nigeria through the strengthening of grassroots organisations.”