If you were banished to a desert island, and you could only take one thing with you, would it be a book? I'm sure you would not give that a second thought, if you are not the book type! What informed by piece this week was an exchange which occurred between Yeni Kuti and her aunt, Yemisi Ransome-Kuti, at the presentation of Keith Richards' book, An Outsider Inside at Terra Kulture last Thursday. It was amusing how the exchange went almost endlessly between the two.
"I won't buy for the shrine because they don't read books," began Yemisi who has this habit of always wanting to be identified as the head of the Kuti family at every event. "Aunty, I respect you but na lie," replied Yeni from the rear seat. "Yeni, are you there?" asked Yemisi with surprise. "For shrine, dem no dey read books." "Aunty that one no true o. For shrine, we dey read books well, well," insisted Yeni. Adding, "Because of that, I will buy ten copies for the shrine."
"Yeni, I know your dancers are brilliant boys and girls," admitted Yemisi, conceding to Yeni's vehement, yet subtle stance about the intellectual ability of the dancers at the shrine.
This brings to mind the poor reading culture in Nigeria. It is really sad that book presentations that are not politically motivated usually attract low turn out of people in Nigeria. There is no denying the fact that reading habits have changed considerably in Nigeria and not a few people find this is a worrisome development. It is generally believed that in a situation whereby a large number of people rarely read - either because they lack the skill or simply because they do not care enough to take the time to concentrate - poses serious problems for the present and the future. Of course, I need hardly to convince you of the importance of reading. It is essential to full participation in modern society, just as it adds quality to life, and provides access to culture and cultural heritages. Aside these, reading empowers and emancipates citizens, just as it brings people together.
Perhaps, more rational thinking members of this society will prevail on the minister of education to begin a process to reclaim the minds of Nigerian youths. Mental states such as semi-illiteracy and illiteracy do no good to them. The minister can begin this process by promoting a national reading campaign aimed primarily at primary school pupils in order to lay a proper foundation for their future learning and that of our nation. Such a campaign, amongst others, should encourage reading by these pupils, of at least, one book a month. And to complement and ensure its success, a system of book tokens, to facilitate the easy access to affordable books should also be introduced.
I readily recall when I was in The Netherlands. I came across a magazine which disclosed the outcome of a survey showing that in Holland, 43 percent would take their TV set with them, 17 percent the radio, and 17 percent a stack of magazines, but none mentioned taking a book, which according to the survey is strange, because a book has everything. The Ministry of Education should carry out this kind of survey in Nigeria too to start a similar campaign.
It is especially important at a time when an increasing number of our people are spending less time reading, and when reading skills are declining. At the same time, the new media requires excellent reading skills and have their own place in the full range of media. Every medium, whether printed or broadcast, caters to different needs. In this regard, I would say our society has a lot of work to do in this regard.
The general trend has been that people are reading less than they used to, in spite of a higher level of education; young people, in particular, are reading less; and a worrying percentage of children have trouble reading comprehension. This enough should prompt government to make the promotion of reading one of the top priorities in its cultural and educational policy. It is feared by some educationists, according to a report, that the negative trend will eventually lead to a split in the population: between those who do have access to information and the book culture and those who do not. This, of course, will seriously affect participation in culture and society, and may eventually pose significant threat to democracy and our national culture. For example: how can a voter make a carefully considered political choice if he or she does not have free access to information?
While a good reading culture will not, in and of itself, resolve all of our problems, as there is a huge gap between knowledge and know-how, it will at least, cause more of our youths to think and question their government's actions and inactions and hold them accountable; which in the long run will serve us all well.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Senators of the Federal Republic
Last month, I got an invite to the presentation of Wale Okediran's new book, Tenants of the House. It was an occasion I looked forward to eagerly because Okediran, being a former member of the House of Representatives, must have an interesting story to tell in his new novel.
And so onward bound I was to the Institute of International Affairs, Victoria Island. The hall was barely filled when I got there, and the author, Okediran, was discussing with a few acquaintances at the door. Eventually, the presentation began shortly after the arrival of Olusegun Mimiko, governor of Ondo State. The side attraction for me that day was an extract of the novel acted as a play, where the goings-on behind the scenes in the National Assembly were exposed. That's where I learnt that 'Fertiliser' was the senators' and honourables' word for bribe.
One character whose name and actions struck me was Senator Smallet, who was central to the sharing of fertilisers from the president. Trust Olorunibe Mamowora. He quickly took a defensive posture when he had the time to speak.
"Senator Smallet is not a Senator of the Federal Republic of Nigeria." Likewise, he stood behind the Senate's position on the absence of the president, saying the Senate impeaching the president was not an option the House would consider because of the multi-ethnic nature of the country. "The last 66 days in the country is an eloquent essay of how not to run a country.
It is simply treason that Nigeria is being governed in a manner that is not in line with the Constitution. The hands of the Senate are tied. If we say we should consider section 143 of the Constitution, impeachment is not realistic considering the ethnic and religious issues in the country. Section 144 also states that it is not within the purview of the National Assembly but the Federal Executive Council (FEC) to swear in the Vice President as Acting President. In addition, Section 145 which is the least we can do, the most acceptable and realistic in conformity with the Constitution, is for the president to transmit to the Senate that he will be going on medical vacation."
I was glad when Odia Ofeimun, poet and literary critic, mounted the podium and poured out his heart. He argued that the narrator was as bad as the other characters in the play. He could not help but advise that Nigerians elect the right people into office before they can experience good governance: "What we currently have in Nigeria are not elections but civil wars. The civil war is not about the election but those who claimed to be voted for actually rigged the elections. Parties should not be funded by political godfathers but the money contributed by the people at the various wards. Party members should religiously pay tithes to their wards which they would use to fund elections."
But an experience I had at the Virgin Nigeria VIP Lounge, Abuja airport, further confirmed to me the kind of Senators we have at the National Assembly. About three senators were seated at the lounge waiting to board their flight to Kano, when a young lady walked up to them and asked that they proceed for boarding. "No, we can't go now. Let all those people go. We cannot wait on the queue," said one of them. "There is no queue," the lady assured.
"No, no, no, we won't go now," another one insisted. And so, they remained on their seats until another person came to call them.
Meanwhile, I could not understand why they found it difficult to go with the first person who came for them. What was really so wrong queuing to get on the plane when the boarding had been announced? Why could they not trust the judgement of the person who came to call them since she already knew they were VIPs and deserved to be so treated? Could it be a case of arrogance or a feeling that 'we are senators, hence we can't be on the queue with the crowd?' I could recall the stance of Festus Iyayi in his famous novel, Violence, where he looked at the Nigerian society, progressively moving towards the path of retrogression, degeneration, corruption and moral decadence. This is a clear manifestation of Nigeria as a class society with all the contradictions and problems inherent in such societies. Hence, one is confronted with power and its associated arrogance by the elite in a society that lacks the meaning of accountability, corruption, immorality and bribery.
The rottenness of our society which was part of the origins of the civil war is presented in more physical terms by the ugly sight I saw at the airport that day. Like the playlet, the quest for money is key for the so-called senators. They are so consumed by material possessions and nothing matters except their pocketful of 'fertilisers'.
And so onward bound I was to the Institute of International Affairs, Victoria Island. The hall was barely filled when I got there, and the author, Okediran, was discussing with a few acquaintances at the door. Eventually, the presentation began shortly after the arrival of Olusegun Mimiko, governor of Ondo State. The side attraction for me that day was an extract of the novel acted as a play, where the goings-on behind the scenes in the National Assembly were exposed. That's where I learnt that 'Fertiliser' was the senators' and honourables' word for bribe.
One character whose name and actions struck me was Senator Smallet, who was central to the sharing of fertilisers from the president. Trust Olorunibe Mamowora. He quickly took a defensive posture when he had the time to speak.
"Senator Smallet is not a Senator of the Federal Republic of Nigeria." Likewise, he stood behind the Senate's position on the absence of the president, saying the Senate impeaching the president was not an option the House would consider because of the multi-ethnic nature of the country. "The last 66 days in the country is an eloquent essay of how not to run a country.
It is simply treason that Nigeria is being governed in a manner that is not in line with the Constitution. The hands of the Senate are tied. If we say we should consider section 143 of the Constitution, impeachment is not realistic considering the ethnic and religious issues in the country. Section 144 also states that it is not within the purview of the National Assembly but the Federal Executive Council (FEC) to swear in the Vice President as Acting President. In addition, Section 145 which is the least we can do, the most acceptable and realistic in conformity with the Constitution, is for the president to transmit to the Senate that he will be going on medical vacation."
I was glad when Odia Ofeimun, poet and literary critic, mounted the podium and poured out his heart. He argued that the narrator was as bad as the other characters in the play. He could not help but advise that Nigerians elect the right people into office before they can experience good governance: "What we currently have in Nigeria are not elections but civil wars. The civil war is not about the election but those who claimed to be voted for actually rigged the elections. Parties should not be funded by political godfathers but the money contributed by the people at the various wards. Party members should religiously pay tithes to their wards which they would use to fund elections."
But an experience I had at the Virgin Nigeria VIP Lounge, Abuja airport, further confirmed to me the kind of Senators we have at the National Assembly. About three senators were seated at the lounge waiting to board their flight to Kano, when a young lady walked up to them and asked that they proceed for boarding. "No, we can't go now. Let all those people go. We cannot wait on the queue," said one of them. "There is no queue," the lady assured.
"No, no, no, we won't go now," another one insisted. And so, they remained on their seats until another person came to call them.
Meanwhile, I could not understand why they found it difficult to go with the first person who came for them. What was really so wrong queuing to get on the plane when the boarding had been announced? Why could they not trust the judgement of the person who came to call them since she already knew they were VIPs and deserved to be so treated? Could it be a case of arrogance or a feeling that 'we are senators, hence we can't be on the queue with the crowd?' I could recall the stance of Festus Iyayi in his famous novel, Violence, where he looked at the Nigerian society, progressively moving towards the path of retrogression, degeneration, corruption and moral decadence. This is a clear manifestation of Nigeria as a class society with all the contradictions and problems inherent in such societies. Hence, one is confronted with power and its associated arrogance by the elite in a society that lacks the meaning of accountability, corruption, immorality and bribery.
The rottenness of our society which was part of the origins of the civil war is presented in more physical terms by the ugly sight I saw at the airport that day. Like the playlet, the quest for money is key for the so-called senators. They are so consumed by material possessions and nothing matters except their pocketful of 'fertilisers'.
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