Browsing the archives for the Observations category.

Raising Money: The Dictionary Experience

There are many ways to fund a project, I’ve realized. One can work hard, save up for many months, and then put all that savings into the choice project, ignoring family and other more important commitments in the process; or one can ask friends and family for a raise, promising that the money will not all go down the drain of sometimes unrealistic dreams. This is usually a good idea if they are not, at the moment, committed to something else more important themselves. Usually very rare. Or one can apply for a number of grants in the world, promising to make one’s dreams come true.

Most grants however are specific. I got a MacArthur-sponsored grant in 2005, for instance. It came with a stipend of $600 for all of six weeks, with a paid trip to Moi University in Eldoret Kenya for a “Sociocultural Exchange”. The Fulbright of four years later came with a monthly stipend of about $1200 but one had to pay for lodging, and feeding in the United States (totaling usually up to around $800) such that by the end of the program, there was just enough to buy an iPod Classic, a hand-held camera, and a few gifts for hordes of friends and family back home.

Some grants require that the grantee do a couple of things (like write a book, for instance), or stay in a particular location for a period of time. Or do work in a certain area for a period of time. In most cases, except one is already established in that field, it’s hard to find a grant that fits conveniently. That was why when sometimes last year, while pondering a way to continue and expand a project I started as an undergraduate in the University of Ibadan “A Multimedia Dictionary of Yoruba Names”, I constantly ran into a wall of doubt as to the possibility of raising enough funds (and finding enough interested people) to get the project moving. The model I had submitted as an undergraduate project was of just a thousand names borne by Yoruba children, with their meanings and (for the first time) audio pronunciations done by Yoruba speakers. For 2005 Department of Linguistics at the University of Ibadan, it was an impressive work. For a 2015 adult with access to more efficient technology and crowd-sourcing, it was less than a tip of the iceberg.

IMG_6625I didn’t have enough savings to start the project on such a scale that I envisioned, and I couldn’t think of any grants that could fund it. Even the Fulbright Alumni Innovative Fund (for past Fulbrighters), as diverse as it is, was limited to a number of categories which doesn’t accommodate a project focused on lexicography and language documentation. There is the MacArthur Genius Grant, a suitable and appropriate grant that makes no demands on the grantee but rewards them (with $650,000 over five years) to be able to achieve their dreams without the drag of a 9-5 job in a busy city. Problem was, one needed to be nominated, and the folks who nominate are usually not known to anyone but the MacArthur folks. Finally out of options, the idea of crowd-funding struck me, just as quickly as the imperative to use 2015 as a year to proceed with the dictionary idea in the first place. I’ve had some contact with Indiegogo before now, but only through friends who had asked me to donate to their project. I’d also heard of Kickstarter, GoFundMe, GlobalGiving, and a couple of other crowd-funding sites. I did a little search on all of them and found Indiegogo most appropriate. Unlike Kickstarter, they don’t send all the pledged amount back to the owners if the goal is not reached. They do take 5%-9% on all the funds raised though, which makes sense when we realize that they’re also in business to make a profit.

So, on January 6 (a not-so-smart date to start a fundraising drive, when one considers the expense that usually goes into the Christmas holiday period), I launched the Indiegogo campaign, open for 60 days. Yet, in spite of the inauspicious beginning, the idea resonated with a lot of friends, family and colleagues with whom I shared it, and they gave, surpassing my expectations. It may also have had something to do with how obnoxiously I pestered a couple of them who promised to donate and then promptly went AWOL :). More importantly, word about the project got out and many people who had nurtured similar ideas about documenting the Yoruba experience but lacked the means or network to do so wrote to me to volunteer their time and services. It has been the best part of the whole experience. There have also been other not-so-encouraging ones: colleagues who matter-of-factly expressed their unwillingness to support either because I’d never supported their projects in the past (even without my knowing it) or because they had their own projects that also needed financial attention. In all, I learn a lesson in human relation, fundraising (I wonder how politicians do it. Explains why I’d never be one), drive, and persistence.

There are now about 15 days to go until the fundraising effort is over. But yesterday, I realized that this is only a start. Yes, I do want to create a Yoruba Dictionary of Names, and the dream is now more realer than ever, thanks to a number of known and unknown people. I however also want to create a Lexical Dictionary of Yoruba containing all the words in the language, also crowd-sourced, and also multimedia and internet based. There is no excuse for the absence of such a document online and such app in mobile phones of interested people all around the world. I want to translate more work from English into Yoruba (I’ve still not completed the one I’ve been working on for years), and render more work from Yoruba into English, and into audio. I want to work with as many people as are willing to make Yoruba relevant to the next century in information technology. The industry for mother tongue education, and documentation is one that is huge and waiting to be tapped. Yes, we are translating twitter into Yoruba, but that can’t be all. Where’s Facebook? Instagram? Google? Where are machine translations? Where is Siri Yoruba? And to do all of these will take more than the $5000 that we are now on the path to raising. We need more.

Yesterday, I applied for the TED Prize 2015, a prize worth a million dollars to support any dream from anywhere in the world. A total stranger had sent me a link to it via Facebook, believing that I have a shot. I scoffed for all of one second and then sobered up. If life has taught me anything, it’s that more than hard work and persistence (which usually pays), taking a chance on oneself is also usually a good idea. I have also begun to look for any other grants that can support a dream of creating a thriving ecosystem of mother tongue education and use in Nigeria. Not just limited to Yoruba, by the way, but the over 500 languages in the country.  It might happen, or it might not, but it will not be for lack of trying. There is a future worth pursuing. From the kind of enthusiastic support I’ve seen from the Dictionary fundraising, one also within reach.

Goodluck, Gridlock, Gone!

We’ve been at this stage before, in Nigeria, a couple of times in fact: a government welcomed with wary but open arms gradually wastes all the goodwill it has once enjoyed on one distraction or the other until it eventually runs out of favour with the electorate. Then it begins to panic and seeks means to prevent itself from being thrown out. First the strategy looks benign, then gets desperate, and eventually destructive in a way that almost takes down the whole country with it.

Looking back to much of the crises of administration in Nigeria’s history, this has been the pattern: Akintola in the defunct Western Region, Yakubu Gowon in the seventies, Ibrahim Babangida during the June 12 crises, Sani Abacha afterwards, and Olusegun Obasanjo with the Third Term Agenda. In all these instances, the common denominator is an eventual disgracing of the principal, and the ushering in of a new administration. In a few cases, it comes with loss of lives, properties, and the well-being of the country. Babangida’s hubris ended with a transitional government and a coup d’etat. Sani Abacha’s, with the bite of an apple.

Yesterday, the administration of Mr. Goodluck Ebele Jonathan joined the infamous list of Nigerian rulers incapable of looking away from the lure of interminable power. A man ushered into office on the huge enthusiasm and hope of all Nigerians in 2011, after two years as a substitute for a dead principal, has now finally come full circle as nothing but the same old power-hungry model we’ve known too well. Yesterday, 11 hours after major news outlets broke the news, the chairman of the electoral body INEC announced that he has been arm-twisted into postponing elections previously slated to hold on February 14 to a later date six weeks away. The excuse made no sense, and people saw through it immediately. But that didn’t stop the emperor with no clothes.

Yesterday, before the announcement was made, military men were seen patrolling Lagos and other major states around the country, ostensibly to keep the peace (that wasn’t threatened), but in reality to put the nation under an atmosphere of intimidation which usually helps to allow rigging when called for. A leaked audio tape from a previous state election in Ekiti state shows how the administration had used the Minister for State for Defense and other government officials to bully security operatives into allowing them a free hand to manipulate the outcome of the election. By pretending that a state of unease exists in ALL the parts of the country (and not just the NorthEast where Boko Haram has finally taken root after six years of half-hearted security response by the government), Mr. Goodluck gets a chance to again use the agencies of state for ends not beneficial to anyone but himself and his merry band of political opportunists.

We have been here before, and the situation always ends the same way: disgrace and dishonour. It is true that the coming election will be between a civilian and a dictator. More than ever before, Nigerians are committed to voting out the dictator as soon as possible. Six years is long enough.

At Agodi Gardens, Ibadan

IMG_5833 IMG_6082IMG_5835 IMG_5836 IMG_5837 IMG_5841 IMG_5863 IMG_5865 IMG_5885 IMG_5887 IMG_5889 IMG_5891 IMG_5896 IMG_5914 IMG_5943 IMG_5988 IMG_5989 IMG_5990 IMG_6032 IMG_6045 IMG_6065 IMG_6072 There’s a reason, I assume, why the midwest United States appeals more to me – of all the regions in the country – than places like the coast, for instance. True, New York City and California are dream destinations for the amount of fun and activities that they pack. What I’ve heard about them, however, in terms of serenity and the freedom to pursue contemplative vocations, aren’t encouraging. I could be wrong, of course.

In any case, living in Edwardsville and Glen Carbon (both in Southern Illinois) accustomed me to a certain standard of serenity that I haven’t found anywhere else. Not in Lagos, anyway, where the drag of motor traffic coupled with the bustle of daily rituals combine with noise, filth, and other minor indignities to distract a questing mind. The nearest open park I’ve been in in Lagos is the Lekki Conservation Plaza which, as good as it is, still leaves much to be desired. Terrible walking planks, poor labelling, and a general poverty of ideas regarding the management and purpose of the establishment. Still, it’s a great respite for the concrete jungle that Lagos is. There are other great places in Lagos, of course, but they are not open, public, parks with affordable access to families and chasers of serenity. (Sure, Tinubu Square is better looking now than it used to be. Bridges and other public places have been fixed up by the APC-led administration in Lagos. But for a city with so many people and such busy and hardworking people, more avenues for relaxation is needed. If you want to relax in Lagos, and you have some money, go to Inagbe Resorts).

Enter Ibadan, a town that has always been equally notorious, equally famous for both its serenity and its capacity for turmoil and mischief. On the mischief side, the republican town has been quoted in almost all the political turmoils of note in Nigeria, from the Wild West 1965 crises to the Adedibu imperial areaboyship of the early 2000s. Notably, the state has never reelected a governor. Ever. (Edit 2015: This changed lately. Ajimobi earlier this year became the first governor to be re-elected). Every election season is a battle, and it always leads to the defeat of the incumbent. For me, more than being my home, Ibadan is also a getaway location for serenity after months in the jungle that is Lagos. Unfortunately, the typical rap that the town gets – especially as relates to its uneducated populace – manages to get more airplay than its reputation as a destination for serenity and intellection. Go to Linda Ikeji’s Blog, Nigeria’s most popular gossip blog, and the most popular post relating to Ibadan is likely to relate to a crowd at the opening of a Mall or a decrepit arrival lounge at it’s local airport. For some reason not far from mischief, it has always been better to laugh at Ibadan for its inadequacies than to celebrate its distinctiveness.

I can say, from other experiences, that I’ve found many more rare books in bookshops in Ibadan than anywhere else around the country.  Today’s steal are “An Overview of the English Language in Nigeria” by Ayo Banjo, and “Iwe Itan Ibadan ati Die Ninu Awon Ilu Agbegbe Re Bi Iwo, Osogbo ati Ikirun” by Oba B. Akinyele (Olubadan of Ibadan from 1955 to 1964). Books are not the only things that make the town a premier in innovation (The University of Ibadan, founded in 1948, is the first university in the country, and the television station, WTNV – later NTA – founded in 1959, is the first on the continent), its spacial peculiarity (it’s the largest city in West Africa) and it’s intellectual pedigree in the Nigerian space (produced Soyinka, Achebe, Clarke, etc) makes it the most natural claimant to the role as a significant watering hole.

That said, this post, is about a new discovery in Ibadan: the Agodi Gardens. It’s not a new place, of course, but it has now been newly renovated by the current administration and made conducive for visitation and contemplation. It was never always like this. Like the Trans Amusement Park and the University Zoo inside the University of Ibadan, the Gardens used to be an eyesore. But unlike the earlier two, this one has been diligently fixed up to be just as good as any community/city park in anywhere in the world. The following is true: if someone else had taken the following pictures, I could have been confused as to where they were taken: Illinois or Ibadan. That’s quite impressive, but it shouldn’t be. We have the resources. Let’s hope that the administration of the state continues to use public funds for more public good of this kind. And, to temper the enthusiasm a little bit, the zoo ensconced in the Gardens is still terrible looking. Hope that this gets a similarly impressive upgrade to a standard worthy of such an important city.

A Walk from Iga Idunganran

IMG_2582IMG_2573IMG_2581IMG_2334IMG_2332IMG_2354IMG_2330IMG_2406IMG_2363IMG_2596IMG_2385IMG_2459Iga Idunganran is the official residence of the Oba of Lagos, located at the northernmost point in Lagos Island. Yesterday, in company of Jeremy Weate (of NaijaBlog/Cassava Republic), Julian Henriques (from the University of London) and wife, and friend and psychiatrist, Mohammed Mustapha from Lagos., I visited the area. We also ran into artist and sculptor, Peju Layiwola.

As much a three-hour leisure walk as it was a historical tour of storied locations in the city’s ancient history, it was also a much appreciated foot-mapping exercise. This is a part of Lagos I had never visited on foot until now. The trip went from the palace gates through the busy streets of Idumota and other ancient corridors of Lagos Island, through the famous Shitta-Bey Mosque, and through Tinubu Square, eventually to the southernmost point by the CMS Church located close to the Lagos Lagoon. It was a lot of history for one day.

Tinubu Square is a long story of its own, from its earlier decrepit state as a homeless shelter among other unsavory roles in the busy spot behind the old Central Bank building. It is now a decent-looking park that offers respite in the middle of such a bubbling environment. This deserves a longer piece, no doubt.

Here are a few shots.

Sad News

Boluwatife could not be saved. She died on last Monday, I heard.

Thanks to those who tried to help. They raised over 320 thousand naira so far, but it was either too little or too late. Or both.