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OPINION: President Tinubu Is Not Deaf

Published

2 years ago

February 9, 2024

Tunde Odesola

Daybreak Nigeria! All the make-up is gone now. On the forehead are lines of wrinkles. Short tears dry up midway down the sides of the nose, forming the ruthless eyeshadows of the tiger. The smile has turned into a sneer, the cheers are swallowed up by jeers, and laughter has ceased, seized by weeping and gnashing of teeth across the land. The calamity is total.

Now, the rich are also crying. Those not crying are shivering. Because nowhere is safe; palaces or huts. No one is smiling; kings or paupers. The American dollar is gripped by the spirit of Joseph’s dream, it’s now swallowing the naira. One dollar, just one dollar, is now swallowing one thousand five hundred naira. Èemò wòlú!

The land is bitter. Hunger is raining. Poverting is pollinating. Death is reigning. Bola Ahmed Tinubu, the man, who assured the citizenry, saying, “E lo f’okan bale,” appears lost. The Asiwaju called BAT also said, “Let the poor breathe,” but the air has ceased. The poor can’t inhale, the rich can’t exhale. Yoruba kings have become chickens inside a pitch-black cage, and the Fulani cobra coils up in a corner, snacking them up one by one – after its regular feast on the people. The bat of the night has lost its voice.

But, the purpose of this article isn’t to paint our country in sad colours. It’s to make you laugh and forget the woes besetting our beloved country – even if only momentarily. The expression, “Òrò burúkú tòhun tèrín,” signposts the junction called Bittersweet. Inside his regalia, the egungun must endure his fart, he dares not tear off his mask. Èewò òrìsà! The Abami Eda – Fela Anikulapo – called it Shuffering and Shmiling.

Imagine you bought a plate of rice, beans, veggies and chicken. Iya Ramota, the food seller, tells you to go home and wait for your order. Back at home, you waited all day, and Iya Ramo didn’t show up. At midnight, she shows up with a big plate and a toothpick in her hands. She picks a grain of rice with the toothpick and puts it in your mouth. She also remembers to put in a grain of beans before she leaves with the food. You jump up, shouting Up Iya Ramo!

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Isn’t this what you do when you shout ‘Up NEPA!’ after being ripped off by the Power Holding Company of Nigeria – when you should be shouting, ‘wahala, wahala, wahala’ – in the voice of that irritant musician in Sango, Ogun State, whose wisecracks overflows from a portable suitcase? Isn’t that shuffering and shmiling?

Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis is the longest word in the English dictionary. You can count how many letters it has, good luck. But don’t try to pronounce it, please. I don’t want to be held responsible for missing teeth, biko. Do not say I didn’t warn you o, ehn-ehn, because Nigeria is a now country where a packet of unadulterated antibiotic costs between N45,000 and N60,000 when the minimum wage of over 104 million citizens remains N30,000, according to the World Bank figures.

Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis is a fibrotic lung disease caused when you breathe in chemical dust such as silica, coal dust or asbestos. Yes, asbestos! Asbestos is a potential killer outlawed for building in developed countries.

Silicosis is another name for pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis. Yet another synonym for it is ‘black lung’. It’s also called pneumoconiosis. When I consider the various names of the disease, I see the developed world running with the simplified versions, researching, while Nigeria, the h(r)ope of the black man, smokes on a keg of gunpowder.

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Growing up, I listened to the sweet voice of King Sunny Ade, singing “Ile o labo sinmi oko…,” a song he did about his journey to London, extolling the importance of home over the farmstead. Kennery King, Orlando Owoh, also did a song, ‘Ero ki yeye mi,” in praise of home. Before KSA and Orlando’s songs, Chief Commander Ebenezer Obey had done a song about the importance of home.

Home is a place of refuge. It’s a stockade to leave and return to after toilings afield. Many years ago, Nigerians in the Diaspora considered Nigeria as home, and their foreign abodes as farmsteads because home is where you feel secure and loved, wanted. The reverse is the case now. Nigeria has turned into oko (farmstead) while foreign abodes have become homes.

About 700 years ago, Africa was invaded for slaves by the West. About 500 years later, slavery was abolished and a new form of slavery called colonisation started. Though Nigeria gained independence from British colonial rule in 1960, the domineering influence of the British and America over the country is still strong, owing to corruption and misgovernance by Nigerian rulers.

Nigeria’s former slave masters have long departed, and the land has been despoiled. Nigerians themselves are the ones now begging to go and be slaves in foreign lands. They risk lives and limbs, stowing away on planes and ships because the country is no longer at ease. What would Nigerian children taken or born abroad be? Where would they call home? Nigeria or foreign lands?

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Last week, I shook my head when I heard that a friend of mine, in a bid to erase his family’s link with a particular Yoruba river, had changed his name to reflect his Christian religion. But Jesus Christ never told any of his disciples to change their family names which reflected their pagan histories.

Two days ago, Madison Academy in Alabama, USA, announced the return of Mustang Mud Run 5K, calling on interested participants to reserve their spots. The announcement says, “Prepare to have fun and put your skills to the test in North Alabama’s Mud Run. The obstacle course, situated on the campus of Madison Academy, will challenge participants with 18-22 obstacles along and through Indian Creek and the adjacent wooded areas. The family-friendly, fun mud run is open to anyone over the age of 12. Runners are expected to slip, slide, climb, jump, slog, and swing their way to a fun finish.”

Were this event native to Nigeria, many zealots, who have made pastors and imams their gods, would say the sport belonged to the devil, forgetting that they themselves are from mud! They would cast and bind and speak in tongues.

The zealots, their pastors and imams won’t pray hail and brimstones on the political leadership that has refused to hand over criminal cop, Abba Kyari, to the US, for trial over alleged involvement in wire fraud. Kyari, while on suspension over involvement in wire fraud, was caught on video negotiating the release of 25kg of cocaine for $61,000. He remains a member of the Nigeria Police Force to date, earning a salary.

It’s funny how we run this type of unjust country and still expect birds to chirp like birds, and rats squeak like rats. Ka ma ri ni Poolu wi. Apostle Paul says such an expectation is a mirage.

So, I hissed when Fuji singer, Wasiu Ayinde, called on President Tinubu in a viral video, telling him that Nigerians are shuffering. If the President doesn’t know by now that Nigerians are living in the worst of times, and it takes a bard to call his attention to it, it’s time to wind down the country and give it back to Britain or America for colonisation. But I would prefer the Chinese. I love their language.

News

[OPINION] Rivers: The Futility Of Power And The Illusion Of Victory

Published

1 hour ago

September 24, 2025

Editor

By Israel Adebiyi

Power is a strange thing. To some, it is a crown that dazzles; to others, it is a sword that conquers. Yet history, both ancient and modern, is replete with reminders that power is fleeting, fragile, and often fatal to those who cling to it without wisdom. Nigeria’s Rivers State has, in recent months, provided a theatre where this truth has played out in its rawest form, a play in which the actors ranged from elected governors to godfathers in high places, from lawmakers turned pawns to a weary citizenry who bore the bruises of political combat.

As you may have learnt, the democratically elected Governor Siminalayi Fubara is back in the saddle. What a traumatising six months it must have been for the man who thought being the Chief Security Officer of his state truly makes him the man in charge. What a tormenting time it must have been for the legislature, those who, entrusted with making laws, would rather sink the ship of state than allow Fubara to sail. And what excruciating experience it must have been for the people of Rivers themselves: to have their choice nearly swapped for a civilian in khaki, to watch their lives held hostage by political gladiators in a power struggle that never had their welfare at heart.

At the centre of this drama stood the godfather, one who straddles Abuja and Port Harcourt, ministering to the Federal Capital Territory while seeking to lord it over Rivers, unchallenged. His triumphs and setbacks are well-documented, but the bigger question remains: what has the political elite learnt from all this? From potential godsons, to godfathers, to supporters, to the rest of us, the truth is painfully clear, no one wins in a state of anarchy, not even the chest-beating King Kong.

The Rivers imbroglio reinforces a timeless principle: governance does not happen in chaos. The seat of power may be occupied, but when the instruments of state are weaponised against one another, the business of the people suffers. Schools do not function, hospitals languish, investments are scared away, and trust in government crumbles. A peaceful atmosphere is the precondition for governance, for no policy, no matter how well-crafted, can thrive in the soil of instability.

In this sense, what happened in Rivers is not new. History shows us that the vanity of power games leaves behind a trail of ruins. Rome, mighty and invincible, crumbled not because its armies lost their strength but because its leaders indulged in intrigues, conspiracies, and betrayal, weakening the republic from within. In Africa, the ghosts of Liberia’s civil war and Sierra Leone’s dark decade still whisper lessons of how political egos, once unchecked, descend into rivers of blood where the people are the ultimate casualties.

Even in more stable democracies, we see shades of this futility. Recall the Watergate scandal in the United States: an overreach of power that forced President Nixon’s resignation, not because America lacked laws, but because one man believed his political survival was above the rule of law. In Zimbabwe, Robert Mugabe’s prolonged hold on power may have begun with promises of liberation but ended with economic collapse and national despair. In all these, the lesson is the same: unchecked power, exercised without restraint, consumes itself.

The real victims of Rivers’ crisis are not the gladiators in high office; they will always find soft landings. The true casualties are the people, the market woman in Port Harcourt whose business was disrupted by endless protests and palpable fears, the civil servant whose progress and commitment are beclouded by uncertainties, the student whose classroom leaks under the rain because the funds for renovation are trapped in political crossfire.

What is often forgotten in the heat of power play is that governance is not an abstract exercise; it is the daily bread of the people. When leaders quarrel, roads go untarred, hospitals go unequipped, and children go unfed. To reduce governance to a chessboard of egos is to mortgage the people’s welfare for vanity. This, tragically, is the recurring story in Nigeria’s democratic experiment.

Philosophers have long wrestled with the meaning of power. Shakespeare, in Macbeth, captured it as “a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more.” The story of Rivers is a fresh Nigerian adaptation of this drama. For months, power appeared to belong to one, then another, and then another still. Yet in the end, it was revealed that no one truly wielded power in its purest sense, because power without legitimacy, without the consent of the governed, and without the peace to implement vision, is no power at all.

The futility of the Rivers crisis holds lessons for Nigeria as a whole. Across our federation, godfatherism continues to haunt governance. From Lagos to Kano, from Anambra to Oyo, the tussle between political benefactors and their protégés has become a recurring decimal. Rarely do these battles end in progress for the people; more often than not, they end in paralysis.

The comparison need not be far-fetched. Look at Kenya, where post-election violence in 2007 consumed more than 1,000 lives and displaced hundreds of thousands. The fault line was political ego, the refusal to let the people’s will stand unchallenged. It took the Kofi Annan-led mediation to restore peace. In the Democratic Republic of Congo, decades of instability trace back to leaders who personalised power, treating the state as property and the people as pawns.

Rivers may not have descended into outright war, but the undertones of instability remind us that democracy is not guaranteed; it must be guarded. When politicians play roulette with the rule of law, they court a descent into chaos that ultimately swallows everyone.

The Rivers episode should compel us to reflect on the foundations of Nigeria’s democracy. For too long, politics has been driven not by institutions but by personalities. Our allegiance is more to godfathers than to constitutions, more to individuals than to principles. Yet sustainable governance is only possible when the rule of law, not the whims of men, governs the game.

What does this mean in practice? It means state assemblies must not be reduced to errand boys of powerful interests. It means governors must respect their oaths of office, governing for all, not just for loyalists. It means party structures must operate with transparency, giving room for dissent without retribution. Above all, it means citizens must rise in defence of their democracy, insisting that their mandate cannot be traded on the altar of ego.

The Rivers drama may be easing, but the scars remain. It was a sobering reminder that power, when divorced from service, becomes poison. That democracy, when stripped of rule of law, becomes anarchy. That in the final analysis, no one truly wins when the people lose.

From the godfathers to the godsons, from the lawmakers to the electorate, we must all acknowledge a shared truth: we are losers when power games eclipse governance. The real triumph is not in who sits in Government House, but in whether that House delivers schools, hospitals, jobs, and peace.

Let Rivers be a lesson to Nigeria: that power is not an end in itself, but a means to service. That peace is not weakness, but strength. And that the greatest legacy any leader can leave is not monuments of ego, but institutions that outlast them.

For if Rivers has taught us anything, it is that governance cannot happen in a state of anarchy, and the futility of power is revealed when its pursuit leaves the people broken. Let us, therefore, rise to build a democracy where power serves the people, not the other way round.

News

NYSC Deploys 1,900 Corps Members To Bauchi State

Published

10 hours ago

September 23, 2025

Editor

The National Youth Service Corps (NYSC), has deployed 1,900 corps members to Bauchi State for the 2025 Batch ‘B’ Stream II orientation exercise.

Mr Kufre Umoren, NYSC State Coordinator, told journalists on Tuesday in Bauchi, that registration would be conducted from Sept. 24 to Sept. 26, at the NYSC Permanent Orientation Camp, Wailo in Ganjuwa Local Government Area of the state.

He said the swearing-in ceremony of the corps members is billed for Sept. 26, and the orientation exercise would end on Oct. 14.

Umoren said each of the corps members would be allowed into the camp after being adequately certified to be genuine graduates.

He said discreet screening of the corps members would be conducted to guard against intrusion or impersonation.

“Registration dates have been announced to the corps members, and they are advised to adhere strictly to all camp rules and regulations.

“Defaulters will be sanctioned in accordance with the scheme’s extant rules,” he said, warning the scheme frowned at late-night journeys and urged corps members to avoid it for their own safety.

While urging them to be punctual, diligent, and comply with dress code, Umoren warned that defaulting corps members would be sanctioned.

News

Ife Not Origin Of Yoruba Race, Says Oluwo

Published

10 hours ago

September 23, 2025

Editor

The Oluwo of Iwo in Osun State, Oba Abdulrosheed Akanbi, has disputed the claim that Ile-Ife is the origin of the Yoruba race.

The royal father said the culture of the race is not in the ancient town of Ife, long noted as the origin of the Yoruba people.

Oluwo, who made this known in a video shared on his Facebook page on Tuesday, spoke in his palace while bestowing a chieftaincy title on one of his subjects.

Flanked by his Chiefs, Oluwo said Ife was not the origin of the Yoruba race, adding that people were living in the town before Oduduwa conquered the city and became its ruler.

He said the language spoken in ancient Ife was not the same as the common Yoruba language, restating his readiness to bring back the correct historical accounts of the Yoruba race.

“Ife is not the origin of the Yoruba race. Those people don’t speak our language. Their language is different. They refer to God as Eledumare, and there is nothing like Eledumare in the Yoruba language. What we have is Olodumare.

“Ife people will always say Olofin, and if you ask them what the meaning is, they will tell you it means the owner of the palace, and what that means in Yoruba is ‘Alaafin’. Ile-Ife has no Yoruba culture.

“I am the ‘Arole Olodumare because I am here to tell you the true history. Iwo is where you can get the real history that was not even documented.

“Whatever I am telling you now, you must keep it because death can come anytime. I am not scared of death because it is inevitable,” Oluwo said in the Yoruba language.

The origin of the word ‘Yoruba’ often leads to controversy. The most recent one being the face-off involving the Ooni of Ife, Oba Adeyeye Ogunwusi and Alaafin of Oyo, Oba Akeem Owoade, over a Chieftaincy title of Okanlomo of Yorubaland, allegedly bestowed on Ibadan-based businessman, Chief Dotun Sanusi by Ooni.

The PUNCH reports in August that the Ooni had bestowed the title on Sanusi during the unveiling of 2geda, an indigenous social media and business networking platform, at Ilaji Hotel, Ibadan.

But in a statement signed by his media aide, Bode Durojaiye, the Alaafin declared that no traditional ruler other than him has the authority to confer a title covering the entire Yorubaland. He issued a 48-hour ultimatum to the Ooni to revoke the title or “face the consequences.”

Reacting to Alaafin’s ultimatum, the Ooni’s spokesperson, Moses Olafare, said the monarch had directed him to ignore the Alaafin’s outburst and leave the matter “in the court of public opinion.”

“We can not dignify the ‘undignifyable’ with an official response. We leave the matter to be handled in the public court of opinion, as it is already being treated.

“Let’s rather focus on narratives that unite us rather than the ones capable of dividing us. No press release, please. 48 hours my foot!” he wrote on his Facebook page.
(PUNCH)