“The tongue is just a little part of the body,” said a pastor during one of those sermons on the tongue. So it is all the more amazing that this part of the human anatomy is so strong and powerful.
As a biology student, I was taught that the tongue is a muscle on the floor of the mouth that manipulates food for chewing and swallowing. It is the primary organ of taste, as much of its upper surface is covered by papillae and taste buds.
The tongue whose secondary function is speech is very sensitive. It is kept moist by saliva, and richly supplied with nerves and blood vessels to help it move. Lastly, the tongue serves as a natural means by which the teeth can be cleaned.
On another level, the word ‘tongue’ is common in idiomatic expressions and proverbs. For instance, ‘tongue-in-cheek’ is a term that refers to humour in which a statement or an entire fictional work is not meant to be taken seriously, even as its sarcasm is subtle. The Oxford English Dictionary defines the idiom as "Ironic, slyly humorous; not meant to be taken seriously."
The term is also known in films and fictional works. For instance, tongue-in-cheek fiction seems to abide by the conventions of an established serious genre. It gently pokes fun at some aspects of that genre, while still relying on its conventions. Examples of tongue-in-cheek films are Shaun of the Dead, Ninotchka, Demolition Man, True Lies, Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans. One of the earliest records of the expression is in The Fair Maid of Perth by Sir Walter Scott in 1828, where he writes: "The fellow who gave this all-hail, thrust his tongue in his cheek to some scapegraces like himself."
In Washington Irving's story "Rip Van Winkle," the townspeople listening to Rip's story of falling asleep for 20 years were said to have "put their tongues in their cheeks" because they thought it was a joke or a lie. While the meaning of the expression here is slightly different, it is related and dates to 1819.
There is yet another use of the tongue which has to do with language. Here I mean the language spoken by a particular tribe or people. ‘Tongue’ is referred to as the first or native language which we learn from birth. The term is also used for the language that we speak best. In either case, our first language is a basis for sociolinguistic identity. The term ‘second language’ means the language we speak less well than our first language. Sometimes the term ‘native language’ is used to indicate a language we are as proficient in as a native of that language.
On another level, ‘mother tongue’ or ‘mother language’ refers to the language we learn at home (usually from our parents). Children growing up in bilingual homes can, according to this definition, have more than one mother tongue.
But you see, at times, this mother tongue has a way of giving you out easily. Those of us from South-Western Nigeria are usually laughed at because of our heavily accented English, spiced with a touch of the typical Oyo mesiogo Yoruba – a variant of English were the ‘Ch’ sound is replaced by ‘Sh’ and ‘C’ with ‘S’. I can recall that in one of my English language classes taught by Seun Oyedola of blessed memory, we argued extensively about ‘Nigerianisms’ in English language. We argued extensively about Yoruba words that have been transferred into English and are now a part of us. Words like “kia-kia” meaning “quick-quick” or “fast-fast.”
You see, re-invention of the English language, we concluded in class that day, showed the dynamism of a people who were able to modify a language handed over to them by the colonialists to suit their purpose.
And so, I used to think, the Yoruba people are the only ones who struggle with poor pronunciation of certain English words. However, my experience in Yenogoa, Bayelsa State made me have a rethink. Bayelsans also suffer from this defect and in a continental gathering like the AMAA, the mother tongue of two women gave them out so easily, such that the audience could not help but laugh. The first woman came on the podium and said: “And the winner is The ‘Shild’ instead of “The Child”. Yet another woman said “Thank you very mush’” instead of “thank you very much.” That is just what our mother tongue has done to us. But you see, it is not entirely derogatory. As the late Oyedola argued, we are just being dynamic with the use of the English Language, even pronunciations!
Monday, April 26, 2010
Sunday, March 21, 2010
What happened to our hope?
It is very much unlike me to get home early on a Tuesday; but last week, the story was different. I was stuck in traffic somewhere, and thought it wise to return home and continue with my day's job instead of wasting precious hours in the Lagos Island logjam.
And so to home I returned. As soon as I got in, I began working on my laptop and it was no surprise that the Power Holding Company of Nigeria (PHCN) 'held' power, since that had been the norm for some time. I am sure you will agree with me that PHCN has gone from bad to worse. I had to rely on my laptop battery to last me for about two hours or more. I knew I would need extra hours of power supply to do all I had to do, but it was rather too 'early' in the day to disturb the whole neighbourhood with the noise of the power generating set. Yes, 5pm is too early to upset the serenity of the neighbourhood with some insane noise from a generator that has suffered from overwork! That is the reality of the Nigerian situation.
But just as the lifeline of the battery was dwindling, power returned. I was able to finish some of my writing and it was nearing 10pm! Time for Channels TV news, I thought to myself. And so, I switched to Channels TV. Several items were on the news, but the one that interested me the most was the protest staged by some Nigerian youth in Abuja.
It was sad that much as they tried to gain entry into the National Assembly, the policemen barricaded the first entrance. They did not allow them in. What was supposed to be a peaceful protest nearly became a violent one due to the highhandedness of the armed police officers. The protesters had to forcefully beat the policemen at the first gate but could not do the same at the second. The policemen claimed they did not get any letter from 'above' to inform them about the protest. Yet, Adebola Williams was right there before them with copies of the letters dropped at the office of the Speaker of the House of Representatives, Dimeji Bankole?
What excuse does Bankole have for not acknowledging the letters dropped at his office? He should answer us right away. Why should he despise the voice of hope, the voice of the future yearning for change at this critical time? Like me, just about every other Nigerian youth is tired of having to start up an overworked generator every night. They are tired of the pollution caused by the fumes and noise. They are tired of driving on pothole-riddled roads everyday they commute to work. They are fed up with a dysfunctional education system. They are just tired of a country where nothing works. So Bankole and others owe us an explanation for despising the voice of the future.
We want to know why they have failed us and continue to do so. We want a productive country where power failure will be non-existent, where there will be employment for all and sundry. I was pained to see how the youths were turned down at the gate. What reasons can be adduced for the action? None, I tell you.
In 2003, Nigerians were voted the happiest people on earth. We are a people who rarely take to the streets in protest, despite the myriad of problems we face. But in recent weeks, we have been pushed to the wall; hence the series of angry demonstrations, including one from the Save Nigeria Group, among others.
We demand that ailing President Umaru Yar'Adua resign or be removed from power to end a long-standing power vacuum. We are voicing our concerns about a lack of security in the country, which frequently spurs armed robbery attacks, not to mention the recent religious crises in Jos. We are tired and together we say enough is enough!
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Who dey read?
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.
"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.
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'.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Accessorised Maryam Babangida
Some years ago, I was at my cousin’s place when I ran into an old calendar in her father’s study. I was amazed that a 1988 calendar could be so well kept. The calendar had the pictures of Maryam Babangida and her husband, General Ibrahim Babangida displayed conspicuously on it. The photographs were taken when they were both still in office. I was struck by Maryam’s charm and natural beauty. She was natural with her powder and lip gloss unlike what we now see on the faces of many of our today’s first ladies.
Trust me, I decided to cut her photograph from the calendar which I hung in my room in school. A couple of weeks later, I was forced by a friend to remove it from the wall. His reason was; it’s not the kind of picture one should hang on the wall, considering the atrocities the husband committed while in office. It is unfortunate this is the kind of mindset most people have about this former first family while their reign lasted – and to think of this about Maryam, in spite of her efforts to alleviate the poverty of rural women while in office is sad.
Whatever, it is tragic that Maryam Babangida, wife of Gen. Ibrahim Babangida, one-time military President of Nigeria had to succumb to the cold hands of death in such a painful manner, but the truth remains the legacies she left behind would remain alive in the memory and minds of the many that she impacted while alive.
Her death brought back for many, fond memories of the years when the glamorous former first lady dashed across the length and breadth of the country, mobilising and empowering other women through her pet project, Better Life for Rural Women. She was the first person to glamorise the office of the first lady and she succeeded in setting the standard for her successors who have not been able to equal her fit.
Then, many criticisms trailed her efforts and the panache she brought to bear in her office as the first lady. Some argued that the office of the first lady is not recognised by the Constitution while some others said wives of the first citizens of the nation could impact women and children positively irrespective of their offices.
I was never close to her, but some people have described her as a humble person.
Someone once said that her humility was evident in her relationship with all who came in contact with her when was president of Nigerian Army Officers' Wives Association (NAOWA) between 1984 and 1985. No doubt, she was a change agent and she affected the lives of both urban and rural women. Ever since she berthed her Better Life project, I don’t think any other first lady has risen up to the challenge of mobilising and empowering rural women the way this woman did! It doesn’t matter though that many of them are still illiterates and unenlightened about critical issues that affect their lives.
The family attempted to hide the news of her ailment. But trust newsmen, the soft sell magazines were on top of the story and her emaciating figure was a telltale sign of the nature of her sickness - cancer. At a point, the family denied she was suffering from ovarian cancer. It didn’t matter that the more the family tried to conceal it, the more photojournalists splashed her photographs on the pages of magazines and newspapers. Anyone who saw the photographs would know the once elegant Maryam was fast slipping away. Her glamorous looks were gone, even though she fought so hard to conceal that fact. She was emaciating by the day.
Without mincing words, I honestly admired her for her efforts at empowering rural women. She championed the cause of women and tried to find solutions to the social issues that affected and concerned them. She was never tired of advancing the cause of women. Even once out of power, and in spite of her failing health she never faltered in the cause she believed in. Not too long ago, she came up with a more elaborate version of her Better Life for Rural Women programme; this time, at the continental level. She started mobilising wives of leaders of other African countries as the springboard for a campaign to mobilise and empower women across the continent.
From her humble beginning, Babangida must have seen the social issues confronting women as a monumental challenge confronting the country and the continent and resolved to tackle it frontally. She did the much she could, which, clearly, was not enough. Whatever, the amiable woman has done her bit and her very best which posterity can never deny her. However, the family must pick up the baton so that the race can continue by instituting a foundation in her honour.
I advocate that the dream must not die, because a literate, healthy and politically active women population would translate to a positively transformed continent. All women leaders, at every level, must run with the vision - from the local governments to the states, from the states to the federal and from there to the continental level, because the problems of women in Nigeria are similar to the problems of women in virtually every other country in the continent.
Trust me, I decided to cut her photograph from the calendar which I hung in my room in school. A couple of weeks later, I was forced by a friend to remove it from the wall. His reason was; it’s not the kind of picture one should hang on the wall, considering the atrocities the husband committed while in office. It is unfortunate this is the kind of mindset most people have about this former first family while their reign lasted – and to think of this about Maryam, in spite of her efforts to alleviate the poverty of rural women while in office is sad.
Whatever, it is tragic that Maryam Babangida, wife of Gen. Ibrahim Babangida, one-time military President of Nigeria had to succumb to the cold hands of death in such a painful manner, but the truth remains the legacies she left behind would remain alive in the memory and minds of the many that she impacted while alive.
Her death brought back for many, fond memories of the years when the glamorous former first lady dashed across the length and breadth of the country, mobilising and empowering other women through her pet project, Better Life for Rural Women. She was the first person to glamorise the office of the first lady and she succeeded in setting the standard for her successors who have not been able to equal her fit.
Then, many criticisms trailed her efforts and the panache she brought to bear in her office as the first lady. Some argued that the office of the first lady is not recognised by the Constitution while some others said wives of the first citizens of the nation could impact women and children positively irrespective of their offices.
I was never close to her, but some people have described her as a humble person.
Someone once said that her humility was evident in her relationship with all who came in contact with her when was president of Nigerian Army Officers' Wives Association (NAOWA) between 1984 and 1985. No doubt, she was a change agent and she affected the lives of both urban and rural women. Ever since she berthed her Better Life project, I don’t think any other first lady has risen up to the challenge of mobilising and empowering rural women the way this woman did! It doesn’t matter though that many of them are still illiterates and unenlightened about critical issues that affect their lives.
The family attempted to hide the news of her ailment. But trust newsmen, the soft sell magazines were on top of the story and her emaciating figure was a telltale sign of the nature of her sickness - cancer. At a point, the family denied she was suffering from ovarian cancer. It didn’t matter that the more the family tried to conceal it, the more photojournalists splashed her photographs on the pages of magazines and newspapers. Anyone who saw the photographs would know the once elegant Maryam was fast slipping away. Her glamorous looks were gone, even though she fought so hard to conceal that fact. She was emaciating by the day.
Without mincing words, I honestly admired her for her efforts at empowering rural women. She championed the cause of women and tried to find solutions to the social issues that affected and concerned them. She was never tired of advancing the cause of women. Even once out of power, and in spite of her failing health she never faltered in the cause she believed in. Not too long ago, she came up with a more elaborate version of her Better Life for Rural Women programme; this time, at the continental level. She started mobilising wives of leaders of other African countries as the springboard for a campaign to mobilise and empower women across the continent.
From her humble beginning, Babangida must have seen the social issues confronting women as a monumental challenge confronting the country and the continent and resolved to tackle it frontally. She did the much she could, which, clearly, was not enough. Whatever, the amiable woman has done her bit and her very best which posterity can never deny her. However, the family must pick up the baton so that the race can continue by instituting a foundation in her honour.
I advocate that the dream must not die, because a literate, healthy and politically active women population would translate to a positively transformed continent. All women leaders, at every level, must run with the vision - from the local governments to the states, from the states to the federal and from there to the continental level, because the problems of women in Nigeria are similar to the problems of women in virtually every other country in the continent.
Friday, November 27, 2009
Nothing to see, nothing to write
It was fun travelling to Enugu last weekend for the Nigerian Media Merit Award. It was a time to hang out with old friends I had not seen for a long time and to make new ones. The journey was an interesting one, although getting up in the morning to catch the first flight coupled with the scary noise from the aircraft, was not an easy task. Thank God we arrived safely in Enugu despite uncertainties which characterised our trip flying with Arik.
As a first timer, landing on the red soil of Enugu was like being on a strange terrain that is totally different. Amidst chat with Stella Sawyerr of Tell Magazine and Pius Okeosis, a former colleague here at Business Day, and Wole Shadare of The Guardian (who has never stopped telling me he is a fan of this column), I walked towards the arrival hall of the Akanu Ibiam 'International' Airport. But what first hit me was the reality that our luggage were conveyed from the aircraft to the arrival hall manually. There were no conveyor belts, nothing! The men were sweating it out as they strained themselves silly to lift the luggage from the motor car. It was a sorry sight for an "international airport?"
Anyway, we were to eventually survive the luggage "dismay and surprise" as we drove on into town proper on the Coal City BRT bus. It was not exactly a bad ride; at least it afforded us the opportunity to see a few areas in Enugu. At a point, I almost asked myself what happened to the much touted rapid development taking place in Enugu! On the other hand, I reasoned that where we drove through to the Nike Lake Resort, our hotel for the weekend, was the outskirt of town, as such, one may not necessarily expect much in terms of development from the area.
The atmosphere at Nike Lake Resort was though breathtaking. The lake was more like the much needed soothing balm to our aching legs and famished bodies, especially under the hot Enugu sun. Lunch however came rather late since we all left our homes without breakfast and we could not help but heave a sigh of relief when the waiters at long last thought it wise to uncover the ceremonial pans and asked us to help ourselves to lunch. The meal was tasty and I could not turn down Deji Bademosi's (of Channels TV) offer to 'wash down' the meal with a bottle of Amstel Malta he left in my care while he went to help himself with lunch. The day was crowned with the Heroes Night also held by the Lake side which had the likes of Prince Tony Momoh and Ambassador Segun Olusola in attendance.
The following morning was equally interesting but our supposed tour of Enugu city left a bitter taste in our mouth. Our journey began shortly after breakfast at about 11am. We though seemed excited at the thought of touring Enugu and for a first timer like me, it was exciting, as our mini convoy; heavily guarded by policemen (for fear of kidnappers I hear is the beginning of wisdom in Enugu) moved in the full glare of Enugu township that was alive to the rhythm of the scorching sun.
"Na wa o!" exclaimed Siju Alabi of Super Screen TV. We were shown some funny sites I cannot make anything out of. "What kind of tour is this?" someone else queried. "We thought we would be shown some historical sites and monuments. What's all these?" we almost asked in unison
In spite of our disdain for the circus show of shame, we were forced to watch, our journey that morning did not come to an end until we were made to visit the stadium where we were told point blank by the guards that we were not expected. This remark angered us all such that we asked to be returned to the hotel.
The state governor was to add salt to our collective injury when he refused to show up at the award night. We were told by Ambassador Segun Olusola that the governor was suffering from food poisoning which he contracted while on one of the campaign tours for the local government elections. It was really sad. If the governor could not make the event, does that also preclude his deputy from representing him? The truth must be told! It was a crazy tour of Enugu and those of us who thought we could write something meaningful about the state as a good tourist destination were highly disappointed. Honestly, there was nothing to write about, except this!
As a first timer, landing on the red soil of Enugu was like being on a strange terrain that is totally different. Amidst chat with Stella Sawyerr of Tell Magazine and Pius Okeosis, a former colleague here at Business Day, and Wole Shadare of The Guardian (who has never stopped telling me he is a fan of this column), I walked towards the arrival hall of the Akanu Ibiam 'International' Airport. But what first hit me was the reality that our luggage were conveyed from the aircraft to the arrival hall manually. There were no conveyor belts, nothing! The men were sweating it out as they strained themselves silly to lift the luggage from the motor car. It was a sorry sight for an "international airport?"
Anyway, we were to eventually survive the luggage "dismay and surprise" as we drove on into town proper on the Coal City BRT bus. It was not exactly a bad ride; at least it afforded us the opportunity to see a few areas in Enugu. At a point, I almost asked myself what happened to the much touted rapid development taking place in Enugu! On the other hand, I reasoned that where we drove through to the Nike Lake Resort, our hotel for the weekend, was the outskirt of town, as such, one may not necessarily expect much in terms of development from the area.
The atmosphere at Nike Lake Resort was though breathtaking. The lake was more like the much needed soothing balm to our aching legs and famished bodies, especially under the hot Enugu sun. Lunch however came rather late since we all left our homes without breakfast and we could not help but heave a sigh of relief when the waiters at long last thought it wise to uncover the ceremonial pans and asked us to help ourselves to lunch. The meal was tasty and I could not turn down Deji Bademosi's (of Channels TV) offer to 'wash down' the meal with a bottle of Amstel Malta he left in my care while he went to help himself with lunch. The day was crowned with the Heroes Night also held by the Lake side which had the likes of Prince Tony Momoh and Ambassador Segun Olusola in attendance.
The following morning was equally interesting but our supposed tour of Enugu city left a bitter taste in our mouth. Our journey began shortly after breakfast at about 11am. We though seemed excited at the thought of touring Enugu and for a first timer like me, it was exciting, as our mini convoy; heavily guarded by policemen (for fear of kidnappers I hear is the beginning of wisdom in Enugu) moved in the full glare of Enugu township that was alive to the rhythm of the scorching sun.
Our first point of call was the newly constructed bridge at New Market road.
There, the government official who was on one of the buses got off to explain to
us the state of the road before the construction of the new bridge. As if that
was not enough, the convoy moved to new estates being constructed in some parts
of the town, we could not believe what we saw and those who got off came back
with a disheartening testimony. After that, we moved to some unknown sites in
other parts of town. By this time, the whole bus had become restless because we
were convinced we could no longer put up with what we were being shown.
"Na wa o!" exclaimed Siju Alabi of Super Screen TV. We were shown some funny sites I cannot make anything out of. "What kind of tour is this?" someone else queried. "We thought we would be shown some historical sites and monuments. What's all these?" we almost asked in unison
In spite of our disdain for the circus show of shame, we were forced to watch, our journey that morning did not come to an end until we were made to visit the stadium where we were told point blank by the guards that we were not expected. This remark angered us all such that we asked to be returned to the hotel.
The state governor was to add salt to our collective injury when he refused to show up at the award night. We were told by Ambassador Segun Olusola that the governor was suffering from food poisoning which he contracted while on one of the campaign tours for the local government elections. It was really sad. If the governor could not make the event, does that also preclude his deputy from representing him? The truth must be told! It was a crazy tour of Enugu and those of us who thought we could write something meaningful about the state as a good tourist destination were highly disappointed. Honestly, there was nothing to write about, except this!
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Another paradise lost
Paradise is not everywhere but I was once told one can be created by an individual regardless of where he is and the conditions he is surrounded by. But what do you do when those conditions are way beyond your power to overcome, especially when they are almost taking your last ounce of strength?
What do you do when you were once in paradise and suddenly lose it, like the one John Milton talked about in his poem, Paradise Lost? In that epic poem, Milton presents Satan as an ambitious and proud being who defies his creator, the omnipotent God, and wages war on Heaven, only to be defeated and cast down.
I was at an art exhibition some days ago and what I saw shocked me. In the place highlighted by the artist, there was actually a non-existent paradise; yet one could have been created if not for the greed of Nigerian rulers whom the artist portrayed as ‘satans’ and ‘vermins’ that continue to feed on the sweat and blood of innocent Niger Deltans.
Sometime in the 1940s when the nationalist movement was in progress in Africa, many people were made to believe that political independence would usher in a new life, solve all social problems and provide everyone a better life. So much was promised by black leaders but only a handful was realised. Most post-independence economic plans were based on expansive democratic principles which included the promise of equal opportunities and fairness in the standard of living. These promises fired the imagination of the black people. Unfortunately, though, within a few of independence, those hopes were dashed and disillusionment set in. The current issues across Africa are some of the post-independence disillusionments which many African writers and artists have talked about.
And so, the works at the exhibition revealed another angry voice in the person of the artist, the same angry voice in the character of Zilayefa in Kaine Agary’s ‘Yellow Yellow’. While Agary uses words to capture the suffering of Niger Deltans, the artist decided to employ the powerful medium of photography. He presented with great pathos and commendable realism the multifaceted situation of the Niger Delta region through the kind of photographs on display. The fortunes of the old and the young in the region whose hopes to get qualitative education, roads, pipe borne water, electricity are eventually dashed by the nature of the Nigerian political, social and economic system.
The images were very detailed and convincing, an analysis of the causes of juvenile delinquency, prostitution and big-time as well as petty crime which have spurred the so-called Niger Delta militants. There was a great depth of presentation, realistic images, psychological understanding and awareness of the implications of the issues raised.
And for me, the heroes were not the dictators who occupy the seat of power in Aso Rock or other government houses, but the innocent old men and women, children and adolescents who were victims of the greed and selfishness characteristic of Nigerian rulers. Many of the children were raised with the hope of a better future, but a combination of corruption, unfairness, nepotism, and more ensures that their hopes remain unrealised.
The experience was thus a paradigm, not just for the Nigerian situation, but for Africa as a whole, where hordes of youths educated up to the school certificate standard or university level discovered that despite their qualifications, the socio-economic situation ensured they have to roam the streets unemployed for years. The effect of this is not just a tremendous waste of potential but a loss of faith in the value of education and ultimately life.
The artist tellingly presented the utter despair of the Niger Delta people who are suffering in the midst of plenty - the misery and degradation of having to live in an environment virtually destroyed by gas flaring and crude oil. Most farmlands which were sources of livelihood for most of the inhabitants had been eroded by crude oil. The squalor in which the people live was contrasted with the opulence of Nigerian leaders and managing directors of oil companies, who deny them the right to basic social amenities. Through a series of evocative images, the destructive effect of gas flaring was vividly portrayed. The image that got stuck on my mind was that of a mother with her child firmly strapped on her back, and yellowish flames oozing from the gas flare in the background. It was a representation of the predicament of the people. The photographs were political statements about the impact of political activities and decisions of the leaders on the life and feelings of the people. It was a display of the anger and sympathy for a people’s suffering.
What do you do when you were once in paradise and suddenly lose it, like the one John Milton talked about in his poem, Paradise Lost? In that epic poem, Milton presents Satan as an ambitious and proud being who defies his creator, the omnipotent God, and wages war on Heaven, only to be defeated and cast down.
I was at an art exhibition some days ago and what I saw shocked me. In the place highlighted by the artist, there was actually a non-existent paradise; yet one could have been created if not for the greed of Nigerian rulers whom the artist portrayed as ‘satans’ and ‘vermins’ that continue to feed on the sweat and blood of innocent Niger Deltans.
Sometime in the 1940s when the nationalist movement was in progress in Africa, many people were made to believe that political independence would usher in a new life, solve all social problems and provide everyone a better life. So much was promised by black leaders but only a handful was realised. Most post-independence economic plans were based on expansive democratic principles which included the promise of equal opportunities and fairness in the standard of living. These promises fired the imagination of the black people. Unfortunately, though, within a few of independence, those hopes were dashed and disillusionment set in. The current issues across Africa are some of the post-independence disillusionments which many African writers and artists have talked about.
And so, the works at the exhibition revealed another angry voice in the person of the artist, the same angry voice in the character of Zilayefa in Kaine Agary’s ‘Yellow Yellow’. While Agary uses words to capture the suffering of Niger Deltans, the artist decided to employ the powerful medium of photography. He presented with great pathos and commendable realism the multifaceted situation of the Niger Delta region through the kind of photographs on display. The fortunes of the old and the young in the region whose hopes to get qualitative education, roads, pipe borne water, electricity are eventually dashed by the nature of the Nigerian political, social and economic system.
The images were very detailed and convincing, an analysis of the causes of juvenile delinquency, prostitution and big-time as well as petty crime which have spurred the so-called Niger Delta militants. There was a great depth of presentation, realistic images, psychological understanding and awareness of the implications of the issues raised.
And for me, the heroes were not the dictators who occupy the seat of power in Aso Rock or other government houses, but the innocent old men and women, children and adolescents who were victims of the greed and selfishness characteristic of Nigerian rulers. Many of the children were raised with the hope of a better future, but a combination of corruption, unfairness, nepotism, and more ensures that their hopes remain unrealised.
The experience was thus a paradigm, not just for the Nigerian situation, but for Africa as a whole, where hordes of youths educated up to the school certificate standard or university level discovered that despite their qualifications, the socio-economic situation ensured they have to roam the streets unemployed for years. The effect of this is not just a tremendous waste of potential but a loss of faith in the value of education and ultimately life.
The artist tellingly presented the utter despair of the Niger Delta people who are suffering in the midst of plenty - the misery and degradation of having to live in an environment virtually destroyed by gas flaring and crude oil. Most farmlands which were sources of livelihood for most of the inhabitants had been eroded by crude oil. The squalor in which the people live was contrasted with the opulence of Nigerian leaders and managing directors of oil companies, who deny them the right to basic social amenities. Through a series of evocative images, the destructive effect of gas flaring was vividly portrayed. The image that got stuck on my mind was that of a mother with her child firmly strapped on her back, and yellowish flames oozing from the gas flare in the background. It was a representation of the predicament of the people. The photographs were political statements about the impact of political activities and decisions of the leaders on the life and feelings of the people. It was a display of the anger and sympathy for a people’s suffering.
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