ktravula – a travelogue!

teaching. lanugage. travel

A Week in Ignorance

It surprised one of my co-workers when, during lunch sometime during the week, I’d mentioned that one of my grouses with the Goodluck Jonathan presidency was his condonement of corruption, citing the example of his appointment of a convicted certificate forger onto the board of a university. The government has since vigorously defended it as proper and not out of the ordinary. Propriety, and setting a good example with exemplary public servants can go to hell.

“This really happened?” My co-worker asked, unbelieving of something that would otherwise sound like something copied out of a satire written by Wole Soyinka. It got the attention of a few more staff members at the table some of whom also had never even heard of Salisu Buhari or his present designation in the corridors of power.

“Yes, he did.” I replied, and the conversation went on and on about a few other ills that paints the administration as one of the most permissive of corruption in the history of the nation’s democratic experiments. “He also pardoned Alamayesiegha, among others.”

SAM_2202Why the conversation surprised me a lot was because I had assumed that everyone, like me, was interested in what was going on in government, and thus fully aware of the misgovernance taking place in our name. I am wrong, obviously. Nobody really cares. As long as the routine of our daily lives are not affected in any way by the corrupt dealings of the “top bosses”, we are fine. This is not a typically Nigerian problem, but as I am here, it is one that I have given a lot of thought. A few weeks ago in Ikogosi Ekiti, during the session on what young people can do to get proper representation in power to be able to effect the changes they want, the chairman of the governors’ forum, Rotimi Amaechi, had suggested to the faces of those present that no change would come as long as people sat pretty and gave the leaders a free hand to do whatever they wanted. How else could it be any different now, I thought, when we don’t even know, or care, about what is going on in the first place? A number of young people have twitter and Facebook accounts. But how many are relevant enough to effect change? When next an ”Occupy” protest comes on and locks down the streets, preventing people from going to work in order to demand for one change or the other, the very first people to complain that the protests have gone on long enough are going to be these ones who (though are very hardworking and well-meaning citizens) have no idea what the heck anyone of us should be worried about. After all, salaries get paid on time, and the road to and from Lekki are good enough in the morning on the way to work, and during evenings on the way back home.

This is the problem, and I can think of millions more who are merely content to go on with their lives without a worry in the world about anything else.

I don’t have a solution.

It just makes for a rather curious study in citizen revolt and participatory democracy.

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Morning in Baga

It is 9 am, Lagos, and the dust has settled from automobiles whose tyres grazed the road tar from the early seconds of the breaking day. It is 9am. Workers have settled into their seats and morning rote slowly beginning. The city moves on with an indifference to change and fear. Indifference. After all, 187 people, or so, mowed down to the brute rhythms of the state’s guns are forever going to be faceless. No national media is going to splash their names and faces on its front cover. There shall be no state funerals or flags at half mast. There shall be no presidential declaration to find the culprits and bring them to book, if only in rote satisfaction of some archaic government protocol. Government magic. Unknown soldier. Vagabonds in power. Collateral damage. Yesterday’s men in green jackboots and auto rifles.

It is 9pm, in Baga, sometime on Friday. Dozens of families woke up to rattles of the government guns pursuing faceless culprits in a shadow war. Forget Boston. Who cares if a city can find one terror suspect in 24 hours without a single collateral damage to innocent lives and properties. This is the giant of Africa! Forget a public information network to alert the public about who the enemy is. Heck, forget the idiotic law that mandates military action only in times of war. Boko Haram lives within you, the guns rattled, they die, as do you. A gun does not tell apart a somnolent villager and a terror suspect hiding within the leaves of a banana plant. Ratatatata, the rhythms of flesh and blood splattered to the beats of falling limbs and tree stems.

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The national news is silent. Reuben is waking up in the bosom of a dame in the Abuja Hilton. Mr. Jonathan had just composed his condolence message to the families of the three victims of the Boston blasts. The state governor in Borno plans his next foreign trip. Lagos wakes, early as it does, with the soft rhythms of dust and rubber tyres. Temperature: 87 degrees Fahrenheit. The dour morning promises rain, and welcome indifference. Across from us, thousands of miles away, pain, and the next planned carnage of the state. Miranda rights and collateral damage just went on an ill-fated date in the wilderness.

 

“Little Blood Flowed” – Presidency.

The dead of Baga sprawl with the leaves on loaves of lead.

Removed from us in mute indifference, we the living dead.

On the trigger that night were notes of “Them? Oh, who cares?

There was where evil hid. Let the living make repairs.

______

NEWS:

President Jonathan Quiet more than 48 hours After Massacre in Borno” (Premium Times)

Pity Boston, Ignore Nigeria: The Limits of Compassion” (The Daily Beast)

“Massacre in Nigeria Spurs Outcry Over Military Tactics” (The New York Times)

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Fueling Poverty – The Video!

This short documentary on Nigeria, said to “address the serious issue of corruption in governance” just made news by being banned by the Nigerian Film and Censors Board. I’d never heard of it until today, but since it concerned the government so much as to attempt to put a muzzle on it, then it must have some value for the enlightenment of the citizenry. According to news reports, the documentary was “released late in 2012, was produced by young filmmaker, Ishaya Bako, in partnership with the Open Society for West Africa [OSIWA].

Watch with me!


What do you think after watching it?

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Of Tabs and Texts

I realized since a few months ago that I have a habit of opening too many tabs on my Google Chrome internet explorer. Everyone who peeped onto my computer screen while I work always wondered how I managed to concentrate on current tasks. My fiancée suggested that I most likely have attention deficit. In return, I argue that I have read enough reports that suggest that distracting oneself with stuff online actually led to efficiency. She has now asked that I limit my open tabs to ten. I have tried, and failed. Now I use Evernote to mark down some of the links I intend to read much later.

Today however, I recalled something that may be responsible for my interest in many things at once (much of them about politics, education, humour, literature, and news). Two words: my father. Thinking back now, I remember how there was always a room in every house we’ve lived in that has stacks of every current publication in Nigeria at the moment. Today, I remembered Prime People, Vintage People, Fun Times, Ikebe Super, Super Story, Vanguard, The Sketch, Newswatch, Daily Times, among very many others. Name it, we had every issue published, and they were always delivered by father’s vendor early in the day. Soon enough, the stack filled up a whole room. Literally.

It was impossible to be bored in an environment like that, and cartoon strips in the newspapers and magazines, and the continuing stories in legitimately fun publications like Ikebe Super, Fun Times, and Super Story sustained a literary interest for a very long time, long before it was eventually replaced with real literature, also from his bookshelves. So now, whenever I’m chided for opening too many webpages at once, I point back to the memory of a time when pleasure and work walked hand-in-hand while sitting on the floor of a living room with dozens of news and feature publications spread all around.

Sometime last year when an academic mentor in Ibadan asked if I had access to past issues of any Nigerian publications which used pidgin as the main language of communication, I immediately thought of Fun Times, Dauda the Sexy Guy, and Ikebe Super. He was working on a compilation of a comprehensive Nigerian Pidgin English dictionary. I have not asked father what he did with all his stack of past issues, but I assume that it will be a trip to return into the margins of those oldies at some point in the future, if they still exist. For now, new tabs and texts.

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Fucked!

In the summer of 2010 when I made a trip to parts of Northern Nigeria, I did first to re-acquaint myself with the security situation of Jos where I had lived for one year and which had descended into chaos where northern hegemons with the backing of shadowy political powers have taken laws into their hands, killing residents of the town to make it ungovernable. I also visited Kaduna – for the very first time – and found, in spite of a normalized environment that reminded me of some parts of Ibadan where I grew up, a certain sense of unease. After all, the whole of the northern section of the country had a notorious reputation of being a flashpoint for ethnic and religious crises that disproportionately targets “non-indigenes” and Christians.

The situation in Northern Nigeria has greatly deteriorated since that time. (It also sadly seems that the last time I talked about Nigeria on this blog, was also to complain of another series of crises based in that part of the country, and the threat it posed to the future of the nation). In the last couple of days, the Islamic extremist group Boko Haram has graduated from small sporadic attacks on police stations to more sinister strategic attacks on other parts of the country’s civil society. They have attacked the UN building, and churches, markets, and as at last weekend, a national newspaper house, and a University. They have promised more attacks on many more media houses around the country and other symbols of pro-government or pro-Western ideas. Beyond depraved, this is despicable, and sad.

It’s important for context that westerners watching the situation now realize how worse this has become over the years. I remember in December 2009 when the news of the underwear bomber socialized in that same extremist environment in Katsina (and later London) almost blew up a plane all over Detroit. We all agreed that although it was a lone case of international terrorism never before associated with Nigeria, it was also worth watching. I can’t make that same case of “lone wolf” anymore. From the extent of alien infiltration of the Northern part of the country from larger terrorist networks from Yemen, Niger, and other places as evidenced in the sophistication of a hitherto local amateur extremist group that now makes car bombs and are able to detonate them in cities, it is clear that it has clearly got out of hand. Where next would we see them? In airplanes making local flights? Obviously, the federal government’s security forces can’t handle it either.

I don’t know what to think or what to say now that is new, but news from my home country now only makes me sad and depressed. Am I really going back to that place? And what will the value of my life be while I’m there, watching my back every time I walk out of my house into the larger world. The roads are not safe due to robbers and accidents. Now, neither are buildings and religious worship places. I only have two questions: 1. How do I file for asylum anywhere else in the world now that I’m done with school? And 2. Why is the world (especially the other Islamic nations of the world who have claimed all along that their religion is peaceful and should not be unfairly targeted for discrimination) now remarkably silent at this evil turn of events?

One year ago, the leader of Al-Qaeda was killed in Pakistan. From the look of things in these other little corners of the world as Northern Nigeria, it is clear that the terrible seeds of his hateful reign has grown to be equally pernicious, and will only get worse without adequate attention.

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