By Lasisi Olagunju

In Yoruba, there is a proverb: “Ojú l’arí, ọ̀rẹ́ ò dé ‘nú” — literally it means ‘we only see the face; friendship does not go deep inside.’ That is the name the Group Managing Director of the NNPCL, Mr Bayo Ojulari, bears. The name calls attention to why appearance and essence sometimes wear different colours. It teaches a lesson in how names, faces and accents may be mere masks — not mirrors.

In Nigeria, the powers of power always wear tribal costumes. Every big position is a sacred grove, only the initiates have its access cards. Kinship confers initiation rights at the grove; free cakes are the benefits. For this and other familial reasons, about a month ago when Ojulari was made the boss of Nigeria’s national oil company, Yoruba people, home and abroad, danced round the world. They thought the NNPC had become their grove.

There is a town called Oke Ode in Ifelodun Local Government Area of Kwara State. Chiefs and youths of that community competed for space in newspapers, on radio and TV with press releases thanking President Bola Tinubu and their own stars for the appointment of Ojulari. They said he was their son in whom they were very well pleased. The chiefs, in particular, added, for effect, that he was “able and capable of bringing the necessary turn-around in NNPC for the benefit of Nigeria and the entire citizenry.”

But the man by himself gave a definition of himself last week. He spoke extensively to BBC Hausa in flawless Hausa language, clearly and purposively choosing and declaring where he belongs. Newspapers did English translations of what he said: “I was surprised when people said I was not from the North. I am a child of the North, and I come from Ilorin. I was brought up in Kaduna State. I started learning Yoruba when I was 15 years old. When I left Kaduna, I went to Zaria to study, so I am a northerner,” he said — and added: “I need the support of the North to do this work well and bring development to the North and the whole of Nigeria…”

MORE FROM THE AUTHOR: OPINION: Awolowo And The North’s Latest Warning [Monday Lines]

What Ojulari said is a culture jolt to Western Nigerians, and I saw it in more than one critical Yoruba circle. It is a reminder that the face is not necessarily the soul. It is also a warning that a name may and may not mirror allegiance or belonging.

Three things I noted in what the man said: That he is from the North is true and the truth; Kwara is geographically north. It appears settled forever, no matter what I may think or feel. That the man is from Ilorin will be declared false by Ilorin, and held to be very untrue by the people of Oke Ode, his father’s hometown. The city he claims, Ilorin, is in Kwara-Central senatorial district; the town that claims him, Oke Ode, is an Igbomina town that sits deep in the savanna of Kwara South. Much more fundamental is this: “I need the support of the North to do this work well and bring development to the North and the whole of Nigeria.” Now, read the last clause of that sentence again. Did you see that ‘the north’ comes first before ‘Nigeria’? So, between the two which one is really his country?

In the pantheon of the gods, some deities are more worthy than others. The North is that deity who stands by you with everything it has. When you have northern Nigeria on your side, you can sleep completely and totally. No ant will dare walk your skin; rodents won’t disturb your rest. Ojulari knew this as a proven fact. He, therefore, desperately wanted the North behind him. And, with that interview, the boss man has owned the North; the North is expected to accept and own him.

MORE FROM THE AUTHOR: OPINION: A Nation Of Defectors [Monday Lines]

I discussed that interview with a big man from the North – a Fulani businessman. I told him that the oil man did not need that ethnic part of the interview. I expected the NNPC boss to know that these are very treacherous, testy, delicate times in Nigeria. Identity in Nigeria is not a buffet; you can’t claim Yoruba before appointment and do cultural code-switching after the swearing in. What define leaders here are the name, language, tribe, religion and geography they wear. And, each of those items has an opposite; the affirmation of one quickly alienates the other.

I believe Ojulari could claim his northernness without posting a disclaimer of his ethnic, linguistic and communal roots. His interview has stomped his feet on the eyes of that part of the earth which calls him son. The language and tone of the interview suggest his mother tongue is a footnote; an afterthought that came after 15 years. His hometown, Oke Ode, did not even feature at all in his story as told by him. I hope his Yoruba is strong enough for him to understand that rain beats one into the same house more than once. He can still make quiet amends.

A lesson: Butterfly gazed at her reflection in a clear pond and said, “These wings are too grand for an insect—I must be a bird! I am a bird!”

Butterfly convinced herself and stopped associating with insects; she opted for the assembly of birds.

In his majesty, the eagle arrived the next meeting of birds. He spotted butterfly and queried her:

MORE FROM THE AUTHOR: OPINION: The President’s New Hausa, Igbo Caps

“Why are you here?”

Beautiful butterfly replied: “I have wings like you. I fly. This is where I truly belong. I am a bird.”

The eagle smiled, patted butterfly on the back and gently told her: “You are truly beautiful, but you are not of our tribe. You flutter, we glide and soar. The world may keep praising your beauty but you should never let achievement, praise and adulation make you forget who you truly are.”

So, the Hausa-speaking Yorubaman who started learning Yoruba at the age of 15 should listen to the elders when they warn his butterfly never to think itself bird. Achebe’s Ikemefuna called Okonkwo father. We all know how fatal the boy’s run for cover turned out in his ‘father’s’ arms. May be I should kuku read out that part of the story: “As the man who had cleared his throat drew up and raised his matchet, Okonkwo looked away. He heard the blow. The pot fell and broke in the sand. He heard Ikemefuna cry, ‘My father, they have killed me!’, as he ran towards him. Dazed with fear, Okonkwo drew his matchet and cut him down…”