Connect with us

News

OPINION: KWAM1, KWAM2’ And Their Holy Water

Published

on

By Suyi Ayodele

If you don’t belong to the upper class in Nigeria, stay off crime. If you are not close to any man-in-power or man-of-power, be law-abiding.

In Nigeria, a man of privilege can take the entire crew and passengers of a plane hostage and get home within the hours. The friend of the powerful can stop a plane from taxiing, and he takes the next available flight home.

Advertisement

In the same Nigeria, if a daughter of Mr. Nobody assaults air hostesses. She gets half-stripped by airport security. Within the hours, the gates of Kirikiri prison are opened to receive her. Our laws here are not blind; they distinguish the privileged from children of commoners! We sink odiously; only that we are not oozing maggots yet!

Know our ways and be guided! Here, a lion kills children of the poor. It gets commendation for cleansing the land; the same lion kills a prince and is accused of genocide! Children of the privileged are always treated preferentially here. It did not start today.

At the funeral of an elderly man about 38 years ago, a young man was detailed to entertain the other elders gathered for the rites of passage for the departed.

Advertisement

Part of his assignment was to serve the elders with palm wine. He did that successfully, filling their calabashes more than twice. Custom also demands that he has a taste of the palm wine. He who feeds a child must not clean his hands on the bare floor (anu omo kò ní fowó nu’lè), goes the saying. But that would be after the sacred elders must have had their fills.

By the time the young man checked the keg of palm wine, what was left could barely fill a cup. So, he turned the remnant of the palm wine into his own calabash and drained it in three gulps. The elders saw him and exchanged glances without saying a word.

He packed the empty calabashes and the keg. One of the initiates stopped him. The old man commanded: “Now, pour the dreg of the palm wine into this calabash (Ò yá, da ìdí emu tó kú sìnú igbá yî)” Stalemate! There was nothing to pour from the empty keg. There was a deep silence.

Advertisement

One of the elders broke the silence by asking who drank the dreg of the palm wine. Before anyone responded, roared: “Has the tradition changed that the dreg of palm wine belongs to the elder?” He shot a fierce glance at the young man. The loudest silence followed, a pin drop! The man who spoke was the oldest and the most senior of the attending initiates.

Glances were exchanged, heads nodded. In the Yoruba worldview, only the oldest man in a gathering drinks the dreg of palm wine. Except he gives it out, nobody dares touch the last drop of the substance. The young man knew the implications. They can be unpalatable, especially when the initiates are gathered! A sacrilege had been committed, everyone waited.

MORE FROM THE AUTHOR:OPINION: Tinubu And His Northern Teachers

Advertisement

An uncle to the young man, a senior initiate himself, stepped in. He announced that the young man drank the remnant. The other elders called for the appropriate punishment as prescribed by tradition. The uncle emphatically said that would not be applicable in that circumstance. Almost everyone asked why. He explained.

The boy who drank the dreg is a privileged child, the uncle said. The passage of rites in progress was for the departed father of the young man, he added. The deceased, he reminded them, was not just an initiate, but the lead initiate in the clan -the one we call Àòrò in my Ekiti dialect or Àwòrò in Modern Yoruba (chief priest).

He adumbrated the age-long tradition that the child of a chief priest cannot be treated like the child of a non-initiate. He backed his traditional advocacy with one of the panegyrics of the departed Àòrò thus: When the child of the chief priest stumbles and upturns the sacred water pot, the chief priest turns it to a laughing matter; if the child of a non-initiate does the same, the chief priest collects rat, he collects fish; he asks him to bring several pieces of brass- sacrificial items for appeasement (Omo Àòrò subú d’omi akòkó nù, Àòrò mú s’òrò èrìnrín; kó s’omo olòmúrìn, ha gb’eku, ha gbe’ja; há so’hun wéréwéré bí ude).

Advertisement

The uncle sat down. The meeting went silent. One after the other, the initiates stepped out to the sacred court to perform their last rites. Prayers were offered for the deceased, his family, and particularly, for the young man assigned to see to their welfare. Funeral rites over. Everyone went home. Case closed!

This incident is no fiction. It happened at the final rites of my father, Baba Daniel Falade, in 1987. My family produces the chief priest for our clan deity, Òràngún. The panegyrics above belong to us. The young man in the narration, my elder cousin, is a lawyer today. Every child in our family is an ‘Omo Àòrò’ (child of the chief priest).

That ancestry confers on us some certain privileges. As Omo Àòrò, we get away with the most sacrilegious offence such as tumbling on the sacred water pot (omi akòkó) and spilling the content. Omi akòkó belongs to the deity. Only the chief priest or anyone he delegates can touch it.

Advertisement

Spilling the water or breaking the sacred water pot is too grievous a taboo to commit. The consequences are terrible! Only a member of my family gets away with it because we are privileged children! We don’t answer Òsínbôn (male), and Aríé (female) for fun!

Incidentally, no single Òsínbôn or Aríé has ever stumbled on the sacred water pot. It is part of our training, part of our orientation from the cradle to reverence omi akòkó. Other children can spill it and get severely punished. A typical Omo Àòrò would never do such. The discipline runs in the family. We know we have the privilege. But no child of ours has ever abused it. How our forebears achieved that, only the Cosmic knows!

In Nigeria today, we have so many spoilt brats running around the landscapes. We have so many privileged individuals who get away with the most heinous infractions. Once you know someone in power, or you have access to the corridor of power, you can do anything and get away with it.

Advertisement

MORE FROM THE AUTHOR:[OPINION] PDP: A Prince And A Pastor’s Son (SENT)

I once saw a complimentary card by an official of Ogun State Government. The designation on the card is: “Office of the Friend of the Governor.” I am serious! The owner, I was told, was a complete nuisance throughout the tour of duty with his governor-friend.

In our contemporary time, we have had the Office of the First Daughter of the Federation. The Privileged abound here. The son of the president attended the weekly Federal Executive Council (FEC) meeting for weeks until sanity prevailed. The same son is accorded airport receptions whenever he ‘tours’ states! We all saw the videos of such receptions and just moved on. The son of the president is as good as the president himself in Nigeria.

Advertisement

One of General Muhammadu Buhari’s daughters once commandeered a presidential plane and flew to Kano to shoot photographs. Her father, we were told, was our generation’s Bayajidda and epitome of discipline and integrity. Nobody reprimanded the girl, at least not to our knowledge!

As an Omo Àòrò, I could barge in on the esoteric in their meeting without consequences. But I would never do that because from the cradle, we were trained to know that nothing kills a child more than taboos (ohun tó únpa omo bí èèwò kò sí). Taboo or abomination, our elders say, is eaten in small bits like the tip of a needle. That saying holds no water in the Nigeria of today where the father is the president, the mother is the First Lady, and the daughter is the Ìyálójà General of our universe!

Privilege! It is an intoxicant. Only the disciplined and properly well-brought ups can handle it with the care it deserves. Nothing is more fragile than privilege; it breaks without prompting the carrier! If you doubt this, just check what happened to the Official Musician of the President (OMP), King Wasiu Ayinde Marshall, popularly known as KWAM1, last Tuesday in Abuja.

Advertisement

Our OMP also holds one of the highest titles in Ijebuland today as the Olórí Omo Oba Akilè Ìjèbú (Head prince of Ijebuland). Ceteris paribus, the man may be the next Awujale of Ijebuland. Do not say God forbid. When you are the official griot or bard and percussionist of the President and Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces of Nigeria, you can become anything here! But for public outcry, a beautifully decorated ocker would have been made a king in Lagos. Even now, the matter has still not been settled. This is a country of anything goes.

Go to Osun State and see the mess a scallywag has made of one of the most traditional stools in Yorubaland. Any town mentioned in Ifa Corpus is sacred. That is the throne someone powerful people gave to an American fly-by-night. Today, His Royal Rascal (HRR) changes the title of the throne in a manner that makes the chameleon envious. It is only in that same Osun that you get first class kings who divorce their Oloris as if divorce has been listed as a sport in the Olympics! Those ones got enthroned because they were privileged to be close to people-in-power and people-of-power!

Akure Oloyemekun once had a privileged Deji, who pursued his Olori from the palace to the streets and emptied a can of hot ashes on her. Someone high up in the power equation got the wife-battering Kabiyesi to the throne. Thank God for the then Governor Olusegun Mimiko who waded in immediately, dethroned the Deji, banished him to Owo and installed a new Oba for the Akure people.

Advertisement

Enough digression. We go back to the OMP, KWAM1, Omo Anifowose himself. He needs no introduction save to say that he is one of the most popular music talents this nation has ever produced. He crowned his voyage in the nation’s entertainment industry by becoming the number one musician for President Bola Ahmed Tinubu.

MORE FROM THE AUTHOR:OPINION: Any ‘Appropriate’ Rites Of Passage For Yoruba Kings?

And KWAM1 is more than being the OMP. He is also a spiritualist to the President. Anything President Tinubu needs to go esoteric against his perceived enemies, KWAM1 is readily available with his Àyájó (evocation). Don’t ask me how I know. Search for the videos of Tinubu’s campaign in 2023. You will understand what I am saying. KWAM1 is the only one who holds the trophy of recording and sharing his conversation with the President to the public and got away with it. Privilege!

Advertisement

KWAM1 set the internet buzzing since last week, when, possibly drunk by the privileges he has as an OMP, he held an entire crew and passengers of a commercial plane hostage on the tarmac! He was selective and deliberate. Wasiu Ayinde committed that sacrilege in Abuja, our Federal Capital Territory. And guess what: he did not see it as a big deal. How do I mean?

Four days after his failed hostage-taking incident, he was on stage in Ikorodu, Lagos State, at the gig for the Ayangburen of Ikorodu who marked his 10th years anniversary on the throne. While ‘apologising’ for the infraction, our OMP wondered why such an “ìsèlè kékeré se wá di únlá” (why should a small matter turn to a big issue). Standing before a taxi-bound plane is no big deal here. That’s how we roll!

The issue that led to the Abuja airport incident has been over-flogged. I saw KWAM1 and his golden flask. I wonder why a man who carries a golden flask would have the character of a common street urchin. But I stopped wondering when I remembered the saying that Aso únlá kó ni ènìyán únlá (a big apparel is not an indication of responsibility). Character is like a smoke (èéfín nì’wà), says the adage. Our elders complete the wisecrack: no matter how one covers it, it must exhale (bí a de mólè, rírú ní rú).

Advertisement

I am amused by those who said that KWAM1’s apology should be assuaging enough. What a nation! If Wasiu Ayinde had committed the same crime in a saner clime, would he apologise using a teleprompter the way he did? Would he tender the apology from the comfort of his home or from a detention cell? Only a privileged rogue elephant would hold people hostage in an international airport and would go home the same day to apologise on a teleprompter!

Even his Ikorodu gig for the Ayangburen and the so-called apology was a malarkey, a complete tosh! He sang in Yoruba. Those who understand the language would agree with me that what Wasiu Ayinde did in Ikorodu is nothing but a continuation of his esoteric àyájó (evocation), a double-Dutch, to hypnotise the public. Holy Moses! Am I the only one familiar with these evocative lines: Mo já’wé gbégbé, kó’mí má gbé mi lo/ Mo já’wé tètè, kí’lè má tè mi rì/Mo já’wé akóyoyo, èrò léhìn mi (I pluck gbégbé leaves, let the sea not wash me off/I pluck tètè -sinking-leaves, let the ground not sink me/I pluck akóyoyo – crowd-pulling – leaves, let the crowd follow me).

That is exactly what KWAM1 did in Ikorodu when he sang: ewé oríjì mo já/ewé oríjì mo já o/eni ‘ùnbá sè/eni ‘ùnbá sè kó f’orí jì mî/ewé oríjì mo já/ (I have plucked oríjì -forgiveness- leaves. Whoever I offended must forgive me. I have plucked oríjì leaves). Only the òpè, the ones Gen-Z refers to as ‘Jews’, will consider those evocations as an apology. This is, I daresay, without paying any attention to the arrogance that oozed out of him on stage.

Advertisement

I have asked KWAM1’s fans spreading his ‘apology’ to go and watch the two videos again. I equally asked them what would have been their reactions if the pilot of that plane had been their wives. How many men would take kindly to another man pouring a substance on their wives because the assailant has a bogus entitlement mentality?

MORE FROM THE AUTHOR:OPINION: Federal Republic Of Loans

And how are we sure that what our OMP carried in his golden flask was water and not the street monkey tail (mixture of ògógóró and weed), or sùngbalaja (sleep anyhow) gégémú (fermented seed) fònàgáu (cross road anyhow) or jékánmò (let them know), the street stimulants associated mostly with people in KWAM1’s trade – Fuji. If the claim that he sipped the content before the air hostesses and other officials asked him to hand it over, and he claimed that what he had was water were true, may we then ask how intoxicant is the OMP’s holy water?

Advertisement

The excuse that Wasiu Ayinde has a health issue that requires him to sip water by seconds is as funny as it is doltish. Are we saying here that with the numerous hours he has had flying, KWAM1 is ignorant of the fact that on board the plane, he could easily require water, more so that he is on Business Class of the flight? And if truly he is easily dehydrated as he claimed, can we know how many times he took time off the stage in Ikorodu to sip water?

It is noticeable that the Minister of Aviation and Aerospace Development, Festus Keyamo, immediately placed him on a no-fly list. But the measures, to me, are like a slap-on-the-wrist given the nature of the crime committed. What KWAM1 did was pure hostage taking, terrorism and false imprisonment, all rolled in one! He practically hijacked the plane for the minutes he prevented it from flying!

If he is an easily dehydrated patient as he claimed, he should know that on board that plane he held hostage for close to 40 minutes were patients who probably had appointments with their doctors. There were businessmen and women who had dates to keep but were held down by an analphabetic bumptious fellow! That he got back to Lagos, hours after the incident, probably aboard another plane (chartered or public) sends dangerous signals to the flying public and undermines discipline in the aviation industry.

Advertisement

Now, another KWAM1 episode played out on Sunday when a female passenger attacked crew members of another plane. If, for instance, the news out there is that KWAM1 had been remanded in prison custody pending the determination of his case, KWAM2’ would not have attempted such an infamy within one week! This is what happens when the right steps are not taken in good and right measures to address indiscipline.

The sane world is appalled that the privilege that covered KWAM1, who committed a more heinous crime of hostage-taking and terrorism, but was only cautioned and released to fly home, is denied a less-privileged ‘KWAM2’, Comfort Emmanson, who assaulted hostesses of an Uyo-Lagos bound Akwa Ibom Air, and within the hours, she was dragged before a court and was railroad to Kirikiri prison!

We have scored yet another low in our preferential treatment of citizens with the way we rushed to prosecute offender number two, without prosecuting offender number one, who is a friend of the president. These actions and inactions will haunt us for a long time.

Advertisement

In closing, I want to say that I deliberately left out the pilot of the Value Jet plane, Captain Oluranti Ogoyi, out of this narrative. Why? I have read comments about how badly the lady behaved or how she should have acted otherwise. I have set a search for what a pilot, who gets clearance to fly, should do when a nyaff stands, like the popular Àgbà Ìnàki (King kung), to hold the plane down.

After the clearance to take off, is it part of the standard practice that the pilot must come down to check who is standing on the tarmac, or if the tyres are well inflated like they do at Okota Motor Park? If it were to be so, there wouldn’t be cases of stowaways. Or, in the alternative, should Captain Ogoyi have called Aso Rock to get President Tinubu to come and move his official bard out of the way? If the pilot was not sure that the tarmac was clear, how come KWAM1 was the only one who had to ducked under the plane when it taxied? Until I get convincing answers, I have no opinion about Captain Ogoyi and her ‘anger management’ as many are claiming.

We are lucky that KWAM1, at 68 years old, still has the dexterity of a typical Ajegunle street boy to duck under the moving plane. The story would have been different today. In his sober moment, when he does not sip from his golden flask, may KWAM1 imbibe the wisdom of our elders that abusing one’s privilege is akin to a child who eats taboos like the tips of needles. Our elders say: Bí orí abéré, bi orí abéré laa je èèwò (one eats taboos like tips of a needle); tó bá ti tó ro’kó ní hun ní (when it is big enough to be smitten to a hoe is when it comes with its consequences). He may not be lucky next time!

Advertisement
Advertisement
Comments

News

I’ll Support Trump To Fight Terrorism In Nigeria If… – Wike

Published

on

The Minister of the Federal Capital Territory, Nyesom Wike, has said that he would support US President Donald Trump if he provides technology to combat terrorism in Nigeria.

Wike stated this on Monday while responding to questions in an interview on Politics Today, a programme on Channels Television monitored by DAILY POST.

His comment comes in the wake of the Christian genocide allegation in Nigeria made by Trump.

Advertisement

It will be recalled that Trump recently designated Nigeria as a “Country of Particular Concern” over the same allegation.

READ ALSO:Trump To Receive Full Menu Of Options To Stop Nigeria Genocide – US Rep, Moore

The US President also said that he had asked the Defence Department to prepare for possible military action in Nigeria if the Nigerian government “continues to allow the killing of Christians”.

Advertisement

Responding, Wike said, “It is not enough for me to capitalise that people are dying in Plateau, Benue and other places.

I have said that I will support Trump in providing and supporting Nigeria with technology in the fight against terrorism. I will also support any country that wants to proffer solutions in tackling terrorism in Nigeria.”

Advertisement
Continue Reading

News

OPINION: Trump’s Wrath Of Oedipus

Published

on

By Lasisi Olagunju

Mr Donald Trump and his Generals are buckling their armour to wipe out terrorists who kill Christians in Nigeria. “I am hereby instructing our Department of War to prepare for possible action. If we attack, it will be fast, vicious, and sweet…” the American president tweeted yesterday. Nigerians who heard Trump probably wondered where he is going to start from. People abducting people, people killing people are everywhere in Nigeria: North-East, North-West, North-Central, the South – everywhere. The forests are deeply infested; the cities have them thick behind seedy walls. How do you kill terrorists in a terror territory without killing everyone?

I risk this question: Who is the real killer here?

Advertisement

What is killing Nigerian Christians, indeed, what is killing Nigerians of all faiths, is not just religion or religionists. The true assassin is the Nigerian structure; an abnormality sculpted with the cold chisel of Mr. Trump’s America and its complicit allies. As Tacitus once wrote of Rome, “They make a desert and call it peace.” Nigeria is a malformed republic calcified by those who pretend to defend it. The Nigerian structure empowers extremism and fetters the law. It enjoys the backing of the West.

Now, Trump says he is coming. Some saviours come to compound calamities. In Ola Rotimi’s ‘The Gods Are Not to Blame’, the Nigerian adaptation of Sophocles’ Oedipus Rex, Odewale is the celebrated liberator who becomes king. There is Baba Fakunle, the old, blind diviner of Kutuje. When the king, Odewale (the Oedipus figure), summons the seer to help identify the cause of the kingdom’s troubles, Baba Fakunle immediately sees the king himself as the source of the curse afflicting the land: “You are the murderer you seek”, the blind tells the king. He proceeds to even call him “bed sharer.” But the hot-tempered king thinks the prophet subversive, a coupist.

Tiresias in Sophocles’ Oedipus Rex, like Ola Rotimi’s Baba, is the blind who perceives what the sighted king cannot see. The blind reveals that the sickness of the city flows from King Oedipus himself. He is the murderer. Oedipus, who vows to cleanse Thebes, is the source of the plague and “pollution” of Thebes. Today’s world has Oedipuses; it has no Tiresias. The truth bearer exists neither in America and its allies nor in their viceroys, defenders of peace who switch off rights in search of freedom.

Advertisement

MORE FROM THE AUTHOR:OPINION: Saluting Our Permanent Patriarchs

Donald Trump described Nigeria as “a disgraced country.” It is surprising that Nigeria has had no word to reply to that insult. His threats are directed at the bad children in the forests of the north. There is not a whimper from the ACF and the Northern Elders Forum. Where is their usual courage? Where is the Federal Government? If I would be cynical, I wouid ask: Why not invoke our efficient Cybercrime Act to deal with this? In case the government missed the assault, it is there in Trump’s tweet on Truth Social:

“If the Nigerian Government continues to allow the killing of Christians, the U.S.A. will immediately stop all aid and assistance to Nigeria, and may very well go into that now disgraced country, ‘guns-a-blazing,’ to completely wipe out the Islamic Terrorists who are committing these horrible atrocities. I am hereby instructing our Department of War to prepare for possible action. If we attack, it will be fast, vicious, and sweet, just like the terrorist thugs attack our CHERISHED Christians! WARNING: THE NIGERIAN GOVERNMENT BETTER MOVE FAST!”

Advertisement

America’s Secretary of War, Pete Hegseth, with a “Yes sir” replied Trump with ‘automatic alacrity’. He said his boots were “preparing for action” on the soil of Nigeria. He posted on X:

“Yes sir. The killing of innocent Christians in Nigeria — and anywhere — must end immediately. The Department of War is preparing for action. Either the Nigerian Government protects Christians, or we will kill the Islamic Terrorists who are committing these horrible atrocities.”

Greek historian and Athenian General, Thucydides, underlined the causes of war: power, fear, and ambition. He warned that “the strong do what they can and the weak suffer what they must.” Secretary Pete Hegseth’s words are a salute, and a promise of death wrapped in benevolence. He and his boss spoke as relievers of the besieged of Nigeria. We thank them for their interest. But where are they going to start from?

Advertisement

MORE FROM THE AUTHOR:OPINION: ‘Federal Highways of Horror’

“They can start from anywhere,” a voice replied me.

“Where is anywhere?”

Advertisement

It is cool to read Trump’s promise of reprieve; we’ve seen too much not to embrace any messiah who comes around. Too many have died with their blood calling for vengeance. But this Trump rain, if it ever falls, won’t fall on one roof. Oedipus comes into Thebes, kills their terror and for that is made king. Years later, the saviour’s coming becomes bad, mass death.

I read online many who are happy that Bola Tinubu’s government is facing fire from America. Some of these are even from the Muslim North. Ancient Romans would see this and intone: “Amicus meus, inimicus inimici mei” (my friend, the enemy of my enemy). Mathematical sociologists would dust up Frank Harary’s formalisation of the Balance Theory; they would trace their signed graphs, and point to Fritz Heider’s insight that a pair of friends with a common enemy forms a balanced triangle: A friend of my friend is my friend (+ × + × + = +). A friend of my enemy is my enemy (+ × – × – = +). An enemy of my enemy is my friend (– × – × + = +). Politics!

It is strange that a government that has conquered everyone is now being conquered from a strange angle. “History shows that there are no invincible armies and never have been” (Josef Stalin).

Advertisement

MORE FROM THE AUTHOR:OPINION: Ofala: Glo And An Invite From Agbogidi

I would have joined in the celebrations to welcome Trump but for the fact that history shows me the strong disguising ambition with the language of virtue; I hear the powerful invoking justice and faith while pursuing dominance. If I asked the Greek to use human history and experience to analyse Mr. Trump’s threat of a war to end all terrorist wars in Nigeria, Thucydides would likely have viewed Trump’s threat with cold, unsentimental realism. To him, the tough-talk would not be an act of moral outrage but a performance of power. He would see in Trump’s posture not compassion for the Nigerian victim of terror; the historian would see the timeless logic of empire: using other people’s tragedy to affirm strength and moral superiority.

As Thucydides might have put it, “War is not so much a matter of right as of necessity.” From history to literature, we find that those who claim to fight for justice are often merely fighting for influence. In the eyes of experience, America’s preparation “for action” would be less about saving faith, limbs and lives; it will be more about staging yet another play in the endless drama of power.

Advertisement

So, I ask: Is the noise from the US truly targetted at the Nigerian Wall of Jericho? We wait to see.

We are a complicated country with complex problems. If Trump kills all today’s terrorists tomorrow, how about the next generation of killers that will come out the day after? The hatchery is not tired of making them.

So, where is the way? Donald Trump’s message of war? It cannot be the way. One thing is certain, this crisis and the response to it echo a tragic pattern: leaders are chasing false targets; messiahs will end up as wrathful Oedipuses whose presence will poison the land. These healers, they will spread plague.

Advertisement
Continue Reading

News

OPINION: Saluting Our Permanent Patriarchs

Published

on

By Lasisi Olagunju

Respect old age. A “strictly by invitation” conclave of Yoruba cardinals sat for two days last week, not in the traditional capital, Ibadan, but in aged Akure, Ondo State. They took the masquerade to the eastern ancestral grove and had it costumed there. If your masquerade was not there, it is because your buttocks were deemed too small for the gilded stools there. And by not being there, you just missed balls of àkàrà made specially in frying pans of honey. The cardinals sat and chose for the whole race and decreed that “we must speak with one voice.” Their Holinesses danced to African pop singer, Angélique Kidjo’s ‘Agolo’ in their own sacred way and ordered that the waist-beads of their Olajumoke must remain where it is. Who are we to say the mouth of the elder stinks? That is the judgment of age, the decree from the ancestors’ gavel. Coourt!

It is an African thing. Of what use is age if you can’t use it to dominate the youth? Àgbà kò níí tán l’órí ilè is a daily prayer in Yoruba land. It simply means “may elders not be extinct in our land.” What the Akure papacy wants is already being done in other parts of Africa. The results have been phenomenal. I am moving from Cameroon to Côte d’Ivoire, then Tanzania, and, then other places where age is prized far higher than rubies.

Advertisement

They say wisdom comes with age. If that is true, no matter how “disgraced” Donald Trump says we are, East and West, Nigeria has pearls of ancestral wisdom. To our immediate East, we have Paul Biya of Cameroon; a little far west, there is Alassane Ouattara of Côte d’Ivoire. They are the current champions. Our immediate western neighbour, Benin Republic, has just banned the main opposition candidate and his party from the next presidential poll. These and many more enjoy the nod of the lords who created these countries.

I have ‘data’ people, young persons around me. They flirt into my fort and speak grammar and literature. First, they talk “gerontocracy”; then I hear “heart-cutting paradox” of Africa being the world’s youngest continent by median age, “yet it is being governed by some of the oldest leaders on earth.” Talk is cheap. What do they know? What an elder sees while seated, a child in space can’t see.

Indeed, Africa, this moment, has the wisest gathering of aged priests of power ever assembled.

Advertisement

In the North, there sits Abdelmadjid Tebboune of Algeria (80), Abdel Fattah el-Sisi of Egypt (71), and Kais Saied of Tunisia (67 — just under seventy, but invested with self-made powers broad enough to last him till eternity).

In West Africa, the procession of patriarchs includes Bola Ahmed Tinubu of Nigeria (73), Joseph Boakai of Liberia (80), and Alassane Ouattara of Côte d’Ivoire (83). Nana Addo Dankwa Akufo-Addo of Ghana, now 81, bowed out, leaving the stage in January 2025 for his old rival, John Dramani Mahama, 66, to steer the ship once again.

In Central Africa, Mother Africa is still blessed with the grandest of elders: Paul Biya of Cameroon (92), Teodoro Obiang Nguema Mbasogo of Equatorial Guinea (83), and Denis Sassou-Nguesso of the Republic of the Congo (81).

Advertisement

In Eastern and Southern Africa, the grey reign continues: Yoweri Museveni of Uganda (81), Isaias Afwerki of Eritrea (79), Emmerson Mnangagwa of Zimbabwe (83), and Cyril Ramaphosa of South Africa (73). Hage Geingob of Namibia passed away on 4 February 2024 at the age of 82. He was succeeded by 84-year-old Nangolo Mbumba, who served until the March 2025 election that brought Netumbo Nandi-Ndaitwah, 73, to power — the country’s first female president.

Farther east, Djibouti’s parliament has just erased the age barrier that once capped presidential ambition, clearing the path for 77-year-old Ismaïl Omar Guelleh to seek a sixth term in 2026. And on the Ethiopian plateau, President Taye Atske Selassie will turn 70 next year.

We respect and value age; that is why Africa remains forever at the top. We are the continent where wisdom and endurance sit enthroned in power.

Advertisement

President Alassane Ouattara of Côte d’Ivoire is 83. He has just clinched a fourth term with the ease of a man ordering breakfast. Cast your gaze eastward to Cameroon, 92-year-old Paul Biya is there. BBC last week described him as “the leader who never loses.” He has kindly agreed to remain in office after only 43 years of national service – or should I simply call his reign ‘uninterrupted power supply’? Forty-three years in some democracies would be called eternity; here in Africa, from the Mediterranean to the Cape of Good Hope, it is continuity.

Nigeria has so much to learn especially from Cameroon where grey hair rules completely and totally. Cameroon has a council of elders whose word is law. I searched the World Wide Web, asking the oracle for the secret of that country’s success. It is the bent gait of the leaders and the age of their ideas. It is difficult to believe, but it is true, the elders list is real: To President Biya’s right is the President of the Constitutional Council, Clément Atangana; he is 84 years old. Atangana it was who oversaw the recent election and announced the results that are being celebrated with stones and bullets in the streets of the country. There is also René Claude Meka, the 86-year-old Chief of Defence Staff. He guards the guards in the name of democracy. The president of the senate is Marcel Niat Njifenji, 91 years old. With Cavayé Yéguié Djibril, the 85-year-old Speaker of the National Assembly, Njifenji sees that laws are made for the good governance of the republic. They make laws, and when they finish minting the laws, they pass them to 83-year-old Laurent Esso, the indefatigable Minister of Justice. He executes the law and its convicts. The job of this council of elders is to keep the grandfather in power and tell the young to wait for their time.

MORE FROM THE AUTHOR:OPINION: Escaping From Nigeria

Advertisement

We have done well with democracy in Africa. It is no longer about freedom and welfare, and good living and life more abundant. It is about endurance – like dull, painful sex.

Latecomer Nigeria does not (yet) have its own official elders council as Cameroon. It should quietly be taking notes; that is what the wise do. We should envy Cameroon; Cameroon deserves our envy.

In Bénin, the constitutional court on 27 October, 2025, ruled to exclude the principal opposition party, Les Démocrates, from participating in the upcoming 2026 presidential election. The coast is clear for democracy in that country and for the incumbent. In East Africa, Tanzania’s presidential election was held on Wednesday last week. But the gods of polls had cracked the palm kernel of victory for the incumbent before the election day. President Samia Suluhu Hassan stood (and stands) on terra firma. She won before winning. Her opponents, candidates of the two primary opposition parties, were removed from the ballot by the gods of democracy. Their supporters are outside, burning tyres and getting buried.

Advertisement

Nigeria will do better than Benin and Tanzania. If those ones had appreciated better intelligence, they would not run into the quicksand of protests harrying their hills. Instead of shutting the gate against opponents and running against themselves, how about those opposition candidates simply defecting into the ruling party? If you check the physics of politics, you will understand why politicians are ferromagnetic beings; they respond to the magnet of money and power. In Nigeria, nobody will be disqualified in the next elections. The magnet in the ruling party sucks them into the vortex of power, and that ends it. Never mind what an Abuja court said on defection last Friday. The defected should forfeit their seats. Who does that? The higher courts will correct the abnormal orders.

Yoruba ancestors are great scientists. There is this Yoruba spell that pulls whoever it wants into its bossom:

Gerere,

Advertisement

Àwọ̀n maa wo won bo,

Gerere…

(Swiftly/ Net, drag them here/ Swiftly).

Advertisement

People of depth who massed in Akure last week know how this magnetic net is woven. It works in Yoruba’s Lagos – it is working in Nigeria. The Tanzanian lady should have come to learn here.

MORE FROM THE AUTHOR:OPINION Generals, Marabouts And Boko Haram

I read online about children of protest dreaming of Tanzania in Nigeria. No. It won’t happen. Where is the main opposition party, the PDP? By the time we reach 2027, no opposition contraption will be well enough to stagger out of the ICU. After that feat, we will move to the next. What is next? Third term?

Advertisement

‘Third term’ is scandalous; we don’t want that chain for the neck of our Olajumoke. The respectable career goal is to be so good as to be begged to become king.

Let the children of anger keep punching their tired tabs and overused phones. Someone told me that when they finally look up from those chinko phones and ask, “Who’s that old man on the ballot again?” the answer will definitely be: “The same man you voted for when you were in primary school.”

Africa is proof that democracy is tired of term limits. The British blessed us with permanent secretaries; why not bless ourselves with permanent councils of elders complete with a permanent presidency. Imagine the elegance in that alliteration: “permanent presidency.” Pulsating.

Advertisement

Even in America where we copied this democracy nonsense, they are already building a throne for their king and sewing very regal royal robes. They have a king.

I read Thomas E. Cronin’s ‘On the Origins and Invention of the Presidency’ and laughed at the folly in the wisdom of the past. Cronin, by “presidency” meant American presidency.” He wrote: “In 1787 fifty-five of America’s best educated and most experienced men assembled in Philadelphia. Their average age was 42, most were lawyers or businessmen. Two-thirds had served in the Congress at one time or another; nearly twenty had served in the Continental army. Seven had been governors in their states. It was a convention of the well-bred, well-fed, well-read and well-wed.” These were the people, the 55 wise men who invented America’s presidential democracy, the one we copied like that poor student who Rank-xeroxed his mate’s exam script, name, matric number, all.

The mandate of the American wise men, according to Cronin, was “to devise an executive office that would also be effective and safe; strong enough to command respect, to help maintain order, to help conduct effective diplomatic affairs, to provide for more efficient administration, yet not so strong as to threaten civil liberties, or in any way aggrandize power contrary to the welfare of the general public.” They did what they had to do and for 229 years, they thought they got it right. They were wrong. Trump, holding Muhammadu Buhari’s toothpick, is at this moment, laughing at their wisdom.

Advertisement

A permanent presidency – a king – is being considered by those around America’s Trump. Or where were you last week when former White House chief strategist, Stephen Bannon, told The Economist that President Donald Trump would serve a third term? Stephen Bannon described a third term for Trump as essential to the nation’s future, a “vehicle of divine providence”, an “instrument of divine will” and “the will of the American people.” We were very unfair to President Olusegun Obasanjo, a successful third term for him would have been a valuable part of contemporary America’s literature review.

MORE FROM THE AUTHOR:OPINION: ‘Federal Highways of Horror’

This is the age of the aged. We should tell William Shakespeare that he lied; that the poet lied in his claim that “All the world’s a stage,

Advertisement

And all the men and women merely players;

They have their exits and their entrances;

And one man in his time plays many parts,…”

Advertisement

Shakespeare says the drama of life always comes to an end for actors and for spectators. It is not so in Africa. Go to Togo, don’t they have Faure Gnassingbé there after Gnassingbé Eyadéma? Gnassingbé served as the president of Togo from 1967 until his death in 2005. Gnassingbé Eyadéma’s son, Faure, filled what would have been a gap immediately and has led Togo since then. What else is the meaning of immortality?

Nigeria can improve on this. One man can be president; his son governor; his brother minister; his grandchildren commissioners.

The president can even combine all those posts and positions if he wants. It will be answered prayers.

Advertisement

This is a satire, but sometimes words fail the satirist and his satire. Satire itself is a dangerous thing because sometimes it stops being seen for what it is. But on this, I double down and hiss on reason and good judgment. This is the age of wisdom, I cling to the tail of the elephant of the aged, he alone can take us up the mountain before us.

In ‘As You Like It’, Shakespeare’s Jaques delivers the locus classicus on the seven ages of man. Life, Shakespeare’s character says, unfolds in seven acts; he calls them “ages”. First comes the helpless infant, “mewling and puking” and crying in a nurse’s arms; then the reluctant schoolboy, weeping and creeping to class with a shining face. Next, the lover, scribbling and sighing over verses, love poems, to his beloved; followed by the fiery soldier, proud, quick to quarrel, chasing fleeting glory: “A soldier, / Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard, / Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, / Seeking the bubble reputation /Even in the cannon’s mouth.” Then appears the wise judge, full of proverbs and dignity, his form rounded by comfort. Then age steals in, turning him into a thin, slippered old man, his once-bold voice now trembling and shrill. At last, the curtain falls on all, a return to infancy, “second childishness” and forgetfulness, bereft of sight, sound, taste, and self:

“Last scene of all,

Advertisement

That ends this strange eventful history,

Is second childishness and mere oblivion;

Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.”

Advertisement

For all enemies of age, I render, in modern English, the last stage in the passage above, Act II, Scene VII:

“The final stage of life

that ends this strange and eventful journey

Advertisement

is a return to childishness and complete forgetfulness;

without teeth, without eyes, without taste, without anything at all.”

The Shakespearean last stage is the age of nothing and nothingness. That is the age of our leaders. In nothing, nothing is bad. We love our own old age, we want it as long as it is Idi Bebere, the voluptuous, supple waist of Olajumoke.

Advertisement
Continue Reading

Trending