Opinion
My Life In One Year | By Florence Ajimobi

Growing up as a child, my favourite game was “house” (a game where children act like members of their family). I would force my siblings to play and I, of course, demanded to be the mother or wife. That is how much I love the idea of having and holding a family. I dreamt of keeping my marriage my whole life.
When my heartthrob, Biola and I decided in 1980 that we were ready to get married after a very short friendship of 6 months, I was very excited. Believe me, we had the best relationship anyone could have asked God for in the 40 years that we were together.
Unfortunately, loss, heartbreak and death are no respecter of persons. We watch dreams die, see people leave, lose their careers and even lose their loved ones but we never really know how it feels until we experience it ourselves. God is deeply acquainted with loss, He knows the pain of being let down and rejected. He knows what abandonment feels like. Jesus was left all alone by the people He loved most in the hardest and most painful hour of His life. It doesn’t matter who is lost or what is lost, loss is loss and it hurts deeply. I know this because I have felt it.
On the 20th of May, 2020, Biola and I tested positive with COVID-19 and we started our isolation at our Ikoyi home together, taking our medications and doing all we were advised to do by the doctor.
On the 26th of May, we both went to bed together but early in the morning of the 27th, I had to rush him to the First Cardiology Consultant Hospital, in Ikoyi. You cannot even imagine my confusion because this husband of mine had never fallen this ill in our 40 years of marriage. Anyways, he got admitted and it became the beginning of my journey without him around me.
Oh! I prayed like I had never done in my entire life. I must at this point commend my children and their friends who prayed tirelessly during this period. It was a period filled with fear and hope for me. I believed God was going to answer my prayers and bring my husband back home, but alas, on Thursday, 25th June, 2020, loss came knocking on my door and my world stopped when I was told my other half had left me to be with our Maker.
Gosh! I was dazed, scared, confused and wondered how we got to this stage. That afternoon, I asked God why He didn’t take me as well? I was in a state of shock. I was in my daughter’s house (where I stayed throughout the period my husband was at the hospital) when I received the information. I ran out of the house and headed straight to the hospital with a glimmer of hope for a miracle. When I saw my beloved husband on the bed, my heart was shattered. It dawned on me that my world had actually come to an end as my own best friend and the one who gave me strength was dead. I just could not take it in. How? Why? These were questions I asked every minute but none could answer me, no one could help me, it seemed like I was going crazy.
I went back home from the hospital and the place was filled with friends and family who had come to sympathize but none of them knew what was going on inside me. I was too confused to understand what was happening around me. On Friday, plans began on how to take him to Ibadan, Oyo State to be buried. I left for Ibadan on Saturday filled with shame because I felt that God had abandoned me despite my “supposed” relationship with Him.
My trauma began as I stepped into OUR HOME in Ibadan for the first time after the incident. I went into our bedroom, laid on his side of the bed and I cried out my heart, calling unto Biola and praying that all I was going through was just a dream. That night, sleep eluded me as I tossed and turned on the bed throughout the night. I opened all his side of our wardrobes and kept talking to myself – honestly, I felt I was going insane or believed I was to think he was dead.
On Sunday 28th, the children arrived with his body and he was laid to rest.
The grave was dug and my Biola was put in it. My heart stopped beating at that point and I wished everyone would just go away and let me die. It was a very traumatic day for me. I could not sleep that night, all I was picturing was how he was lowered into the grave and the reality that I would never see him again.
Next day, my children and I returned to Lagos and instead of going back to my daughter’s house, I went to our own home. You cannot imagine how I felt going back to that house without him. I went first into our room, laid on his side of the bed and I tried to recall the whole incident again. I was still asking “how did we get to the stage of you being dead?” This is one question I still haven’t received an answer for, and perhaps one that I will forever keep asking myself. Guests and sympathizers kept visiting and though he had been buried, I still wondered if really I was the one they were sympathizing with.
I lost the urge to live. I kept praying that God should just take me away to be with my soul-mate. Even the mandatory Islamic mourning period of 130 days (where I had to remain at home) made no difference to me. Where would I even go to without my husband?
There was no thrill in life again.
During this period, I had stopped praying to God. I told God I did not want His help anymore since He took the one person I cherished the most away. When pastors or my friends came to pray with me, I looked at them as time wasters. Sometimes, I was filled with hatred for them – why would they be talking about God who didn’t hear me when I prayed and cried unto Him to spare the life of Biola?
The loss of a loved one hurts, and learning to live with it is a long, difficult but necessary process. What I have learnt and can tell you for free is this; in our loss and grief, we can feel so alone and isolated, but God never leaves us when we hurt. He actually promised to be close to us and bandage us up in tough times.
Days ran into weeks and before I knew what was happening, it was 25th of July – a whole month without Biola, the love of my life. I think what was most painful for me is the fact that Biola and I never discussed death. All we ever talked about was how we were going to spend our retirement together. Never did the topic of death come up once. So, you can imagine my shock and disappointment when he suddenly left me.
Every day, I was dying slowly.
I was filled with so much sadness and pain that I went to bed every night praying not wake up in the morning. When I woke up next morning I asked myself, ‘you are up again?’ Then finally, the mandatory Islamic mourning period came to an end. My fear after the mourning period became how to start going out to face people, still carrying my load of shame and failure. By this time also the traffic of people in the house had reduced and my greatest trauma began when I started sleeping alone. Weeks became months and the woman who her husband complained that she sleeps too much couldn’t even sleep for 2 straight hours. What an irony.
My Biola was unique. Talking about him makes me happy and thinking about him gives my heart joy. To be honest, it is the only thing that has made me smile lately, besides my wonderful children, of course. After a while, I felt some sort of relief or so I thought until we had to celebrate the first ILEYA (an elaborate Islamic celebration) without him. ILEYA was normally a big celebration for us as a couple and family. I was hoping I’d wake up from the dream of him being dead and he would ask me for his new outfit for the celebration. It was not a dream. He was really gone and we had to celebrate without him. It did not feel the same. It would never feel the same without him. I cried bitterly on that day and went to his tomb asking him amidst tears why he left me?
Those who knew my husband know that he loved me very much and he was never afraid to express it even in public. Sometimes when I tried to shy away from his public display of affection, he would tell me “you are my wife and not a girlfriend.” I miss his cuddle and kisses. I miss our gists and fights. Biola was a hopeless romantic. He gave me everything. I miss him so much that I never thought I could survive without him. Yes! My survival till now is still a mystery to me, but, hey, one year has passed and I am still here. One year has passed but the pain in my heart still feels like it all happened yesterday.
You know, there’s really no timeline for how long grief and pain last. One really does not know how or when he or she will find closure. I will be honest with you, I still feel like I am in a rollercoaster. One minute I’m feeling strong and confident, next minute, I am overwhelmed with grief but I am grateful for the good and bad days.
December 16th of every year was a special day and it will forever remain so. It was a day I got to celebrate Biola and show him how much I appreciate and love him for all he does for me and the children. It was a day I went all out to buy him a gift. The one thing he loved was watches, so every birthday he got one. Whilst he was alive, he told me during one of our chats that he would like to celebrate his birthday yearly with a round table which he started on his 69th birthday. Last year, since he was no longer around to host the birthday round-table event, I decided to host it in his honour. So, I swung into action with so much excitement in preparation and everything went so smoothly.
A day to the event, I went to do some last minute checks at the venue. I did not know when I started to cry again. It was emotional for me because we had planned to celebrate his 71st birthday in that same venue. On the D-day, I woke up, went to his tomb and I started to cry. It was his day and he wasn’t even there to celebrate with us. I was devastated. I looked forward to this day and there I was, crying uncontrollably at his tomb. What was the point of throwing a celebration without him? I could not believe that I would not get to celebrate him the usual way. What else can you give to a man that has given you everything in life; love, comfort, selflessness, support, strength, courage? I can go on and on. Biola allowed me to be me. He made me the woman I am today and brought out the best in me, he gave me wings to fly. What then was the point, I thought to myself as I cried. One of our aides found me there and pleaded with me to leave the tomb to go get ready for the event.
The event turned out greatly. In fact, better than I expected. I was proud of myself. I knew Biola would be proud of me too. I cannot thank God enough for the strength He gave me this period. God stayed with me, even when I was angry with Him for taking Biola away and not answering my prayers to bring him back, God stayed with me. He worked on me and walked me through the valley of the shadow of death and in the end, led me right back into green pastures.
After the birthday celebration came Christmas. Another nudge in the reality that things will never be the same without him. My husband was a Muslim, while I am a Christian. He would say “my wife is a Christian, so Christmas must always be special.” Our different religions was never a problem for us as a couple and a family. We celebrated every religious holiday and programs together. For Christmas, my husband would go all out for me. Every Christmas, we travelled to Lagos to celebrate with our children. We did it for over 18 years. Biola did not see the travelling as stressful or trivial. He was a selfless father and husband. He handled everything from decorating the Christmas tree to ordering of cake and food. He would say “it’s your celebration, so no stress for you, Flory.” He would then shower me with gifts.
Christmas in 2020 was nothing like it had always been for us. The entire family planned a trip to Dubai for the holiday, hoping it would make me happy but it didn’t. It was a very sad Christmas for me. Every 31st of December, he would drop me at church for the New Year’s Eve service, go back home to say his prayers and pick me once I’m ready. On the 1st of January, he would send wishes, prayers, and admonitions for the New Year. He did this consistently for 40 years. This year, I didn’t get anything from him…no wishes, no prayers, no words of affection, no words of advice…nothing.
I love my children. They are the very essence of my life. Though the vacuum Biola left in my heart cannot be filled by them, they remain the greatest blessings God has given me.
I still have problems with my sleep pattern. One day I woke up and reminded myself that all my tears have not brought him back, so I have to live with the reality of my pain and misery. I began to identify the places and events that trigger my emotions and learnt how to manage them. This actually helped lessen the intensity of my feelings as I have come to the conclusion that my heart can never heal, it is a life-time process.
It’s being hard coping with people who actually mean well, but do not know how to act around me. Some of them avoid mentioning my husband’s name or even talking about him. I find it funny though because he is all I want to talk about all day. If only they knew that unlike them, I don’t want to pretend he never existed. I want to talk about him. I want to relive his memories with family and friends.
Some of them even say “you have to move on.” I won’t lie that it has been easy to ‘move on’, as a lot of people have advised or would expect. He IS the love of my life, moving on won’t be a walk in the park for me, but I am willing to take things one day at a time. When I visit our home in Ibadan, it has become a routine for me to sit by his tomb and take my early morning coffee. The fact that I know he is there with me makes me happy and I plan to relish these moments.
So, now, I wake up every morning, write a piece about him, watch videos of him and then talk a lot about him (to those who care to listen and can’t complain that I bore them). Doing these things have become therapy for me.
April 5th is another special day in my home. It is my birthday! My dear Biola would go all out to make me feel special every year. This year, I could not spend the day in our home so I travelled out to be alone and soak myself in my pain and sorrow. Two of my daughters flew in to surprise me where I was and cheer me up. It was a nice gesture that I appreciate but believe me it all meant nothing to me, I was just lost in my pain. The fact remains that a part of me is gone.
Socializing became a problem. I just couldn’t go out or visit friends that have been there for me over these trying months. Rather than say NO to going out all the time, I tried visiting my daughters which I had not also done in months. I attended about 3 events and made them know that I would want to leave early. I am not used to going to events without my husband.
Sometimes, the feeling of grief is so painful that I feel overwhelmed. I find it so hard to see meaning or purpose in my life, and want to find a way to make it stop. I feel I can’t cope with the intensity of my grief and pain anymore.
In May, I decided to go away to be alone and gather myself together as I felt I was not coping and could not continue wanting everyone around me to be sad because I am sad. I was very angry each time my children were celebrating either their birthday, their spouses’ or that of their children, I just didn’t get it. So off I went and honestly by the time I returned, I was a better person. Healing did not take place but a better way of learning to live alone and live with my pain was identified.
Usually when I return from trips, especially abroad, as soon as the plane touches ground, Biola would call me to say “thank God you have landed.” Next few minute, he would call again to ask “are you on the express?” By the time I get home, he would have instructed the people at home to prepare my favourite dish and have the table all set. I would then get another call asking “hope the food is fine”.
When I step into our room, he would have made the room look special and inscribe a message on the bed, “welcome home Flory, I missed you.” I got back to Nigeria from my May trip this year, there was no expectation. No one to pamper me like Biola did. I told myself “you are all alone, so get it”.
When we had arguments, which is typical of any couple, Biola was always the larger person whilst I remained the ‘baby’ and he was quick to tell me “Flory, we have no one else but ourselves, let’s talk it over.” He would tell me “angels don’t live on earth and I’m not one and would definitely make mistakes.” But he was my Angel and will always be my Angel.
Sometimes, I believe I am reading a story and just going through a bad chapter but I thank God for making me stand today. Each sunrise is a victory for me. The journey has been the most painful and traumatic that I could never have imagined that I’d still be here. My husband and I thought we could never live without each other. I am still so pained and sad, I cannot understand how I got to where I am even after one year. But I am still here.
For the sake of my children and family I have to be strong. As long as life and memories last, Abiola my best friend, ever smiling lover, husband, soulmate, gist partner and teacher will forever live in my heart.
Biola, till death do us part isn’t long enough. To say I miss you is an understatement as my heart is still so sore from losing you. I love you much more in death and forever will.
Despite everything, I surrender to God and acknowledge that He is SOVEREIGN.
Florence Ajimobi, is the wife of the Late Former Governor Abiola Ajimobi. This piece was published on her personal blog.
Opinion
El-Rufai’s SDP Gambit: A Political ‘Harakiri’ | By Adeniyi Olowofela

Former Governor of Kaduna State, Nasir Ahmad El-Rufai, is a restless and courageous politician. However, he ought to have learned political patience from President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, who spent years building a viable political alternative to the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) when its stalwarts boasted that they would rule Nigeria for 64 years.
Cleverly, Tinubu abandoned the Alliance for Democracy (AD) to establish another political platform, the Action Congress (AC), which later metamorphosed into the Action Congress of Nigeria (ACN).
In collaboration with other political groups—including the Congress for Progressive Change (CPC) and some elements of the PDP—the All Progressives Congress (APC) was born, with El-Rufai as one of its foundation members. Ultimately, the APC wrestled power from the PDP, truncating its 64-year dominance plan.
For El-Rufai to abandon the APC now is nothing short of political suicide, as Tinubu is strategically positioned to secure a second term with an array of both seen and unseen political foot soldiers.
The Social Democratic Party (SDP), as a political entity, effectively died with the late Moshood Kashimawo Olawale (MKO) Abiola. Any attempt to resurrect it is an exercise in futility.
For the sake of argument, let’s consider a hypothetical scenario: Suppose another southern politician is fielded in 2027 and wins the election. Even if he signs an agreement to serve only one term, political realities could shift, and he may seek another four years.
If anyone doubts this, they should ask former Presidents Olusegun Obasanjo and Goodluck Jonathan. The simple implication of this is that President Tinubu remains the best candidate for northern politicians seeking a power shift back to the North in 2031—at which point El-Rufai could have been one of the credible northern contenders for the presidency.
When Ebenezer Babatope (Ebino Topsy), a staunch Awoist, chose to serve in General Sani Abacha’s regime, he later reflected on his decision, saying: “I have eaten the forbidden fruit, and it will haunt me till the end of my life.”
By abandoning the APC for another political party, El-Rufai has also eaten the forbidden fruit. Only time will tell if it will haunt him or not.
However, for some of the political leaders already contacted from the South West, supporting any party against President Tinubu would be akin to Judas Iscariot’s betrayal—a reputation no serious South West politician would want to bear.
El-Rufai’s departure from the APC to SDP is nothing short of a suicidal political move, reminiscent of Harakiri.
Prof. Adeniyi Olowofela, a former Oyo State Commissioner for Education, Science, and Technology and the Commissioner representing Oyo State at the Federal Character Commission (FCC), sent this piece from Abuja, the nation’s capital.
Opinion
Akpabio vs. Natasha: Too Many Wrongs Don’t Make A Right

For most of last week, Senate President Godswill Akpabio was in the eye of the storm as his traducer, Senator Natasha Akpoti-Uduaghan, who represents Kogi Central, was relentless in getting her voice hear loud and clear.
Though the matter eventually culminated in the suspension of the Kogi senator for six months on Thursday, it is clear that the drama has not ended yet. The whole saga, as we have seen in the last few weeks, smacks many wrongs and few rights. The Senate scored some rights and some wrongs, the same for the Kogi senator. But in apportioning the rights and the wrongs, we have to distinguish between emotions and the rules.
Recall that in July of 2024, Senator Akpabio had compared the conduct of Senator Akpoti-Uduaghan to that of someone in a nightclub. That statement incensed the Kogi Central senator, the womenfolk, and a number of other senators. Days later, Akpabio, having sensed the mood of the Senate, spoke from his chair and said: “I will not intentionally denigrate any woman and always pray the God will uplift women, Distinguished Senator Natasha, I want to apologise to you.” That was expected of him and by that statement, Akpabio brought some calm into the relationship between him and the Kogi senator, but as we are to discover in the last two weeks, still waters do run fast under the surface.
The latest scene of the drama started with what looked like an innocuous development on the Senate floor. The Senate president, in exercise of the power conferred on him by the 1999 Constitution (as amended) and the Senate Rule book, made adjustments to the seats in the minority wing of the chamber and relocated Senator Akpoti-Uduaghan. The excuse was that following the defection of some senators from the minority side, seat adjustments had to be effected. That was within Akpabio’s power. Remember that the Senate Rule book does not only empower the Senate president to allocate seats, but he can also change the seats occasionally. So, Akpabio was right with that action. But perhaps Akpoti-Uduaghan, based on family relationships with the Akpabios, expected that she would have been alerted of the impending seat change. And on getting to the floor of the Senate to discover the seat switch, she got alarmed. Was she right to flare up? No, that is the answer. Apart from the powers of the Senate president to change seats allocated to senators, the rule book also says that every senator must speak from the seat allocated. The implication is that anything a senator says outside the allocated seat will not go into the Senate records. The Senate, or any parliament for that matter, is a regulated environment. The Hansards take records of every word and action made on the floor of the chamber. And so, it is incumbent on every senator to follow the rules.
So, on Thursday, February 20, when Senator Akpoti-Uduaghan raised hell over her seat relocation and engaged Senator Akpabio in a shouting match, she was on the wrong side of the Senate Rule book. No Senator is expected to be unruly. In fact, unruly conduct can be summarily punished by the presiding officer. It is important to note that the rules of the Senate treat the occupier of the chair of Senate President like a golden egg. The President of the Senate is the number three citizen in the country, even though he was elected to represent a constituency like his colleagues. He is first among equals, but the numero uno position comes with a lot of difference.
A legislative expert once told me that the Chair of the President of the Senate must be revered at all times and that infractions to the rules are heavily punished unless the offender shows penitence. The rule says the President of the Senate must be heard in silence; Senators must avoid naming (being called out for unruly conduct); and that any situation that compels the President of the Senate to rise up to hit the gavel in trying to restore order could earn the culprit (any named senator) summary dismissal. Those are the powers of the President of the Senate, which Madam Natasha was trying for size. I think it is important that Senators are taken through inductions on the rules and regulations, whether they got in mid-term or at the beginning of the session.
Rules are very key to operations in a big club like the Senate or the House of Representatives. But as we will later discover on this page, the number of years spent on the floor does not necessarily guarantee a clear understanding of the rules.
Well, as we saw it, Senator Akpoti-Uduaghan raised hell by protesting the decision of the Senate to relocate her seat. She was out of order, and her colleagues noted the same. With another presiding officer, she could have been suspended right there. But Akpabio didn’t do that. Then, the Kogi Central senator opened another flank, this time, outside of the Senate chamber. She granted an interview to Arise television, claiming that she had been sexually harassed by Akpabio. Here, too, Senator Natasha was on the wrong side of the Senate rules. Yes, she has a right of freedom of speech, but if the right must be meaningfully exercised, she must do so in compliance with the rules of the club she belongs-the Senate. This is expressly so because she is covered by Order 10 of the Senate Rule Book, which permits her to raise issues of privilege without previously notifying the President of the Senate or the presiding officer. The elders and the holy books also say that when you remove the log from the eyes, you show it to the eyes. As a club, the senate detests the washing of its dirty linen in the public. Such conduct led to the suspension of the late Senators Arthur Nzeribe and Joseph Waku, as well as Senator Ovie Omo-Agege, Senator Ali Ndume and even Senator Abdul Ningi in recent past.
Rather than go to the court of public opinion to accuse Akpabio of sexual harassment, Senator Akpoti-Uduaghan should have quietly assumed the seat allocated to her, raise her complaints through Order 10 and at the same time tender details of her sexual harassment allegation against Akpabio and seek Senate’s intervention. If she had done that, she would have been on the right side of Senate Rules and had Akpabio by the balls. As much as the Senate rules forbid a senator from submitting a petition he or she personally signed, the Senate does not forbid any lawmaker from raising allegations that affect either their rights or privileges on the floor. Several newspaper editors have been summoned before the Ethics Committee to answer questions of alleged breach of the privilege of senators. I recall that as correspondents in the chamber, senators were always unhappy each time we scooped a story or blow open a report they were about to submit. Such senators didn’t need to write a petition. They would only come to the floor and raise points of order on privilege. Senator Akpoti- Uduaghan failed to do that.
But the conduct of the Senate President and some of the principal officers on Wednesday, March 5, left so much to be desired of the Senate. I was shocked to see Senator Akpabio rule Senator Natasha in order; he also ruled Senator Mohammed Monguno in order as well as Senator Opeyemi Bamidele. How do you have three right rulings on one issue? First, he allowed Senator Natasha to lay a defective petition on the Senate table. That’s expressly out of order. In the days of Senate Presidents David Mark, Bukola Saraki, and Ahmad Lawan, we saw how such scenes were handled. A David Mark would simply ask the senator, ‘Distinguished Senator, please open to Order 40(4) and read’. By the time the senator finished reading the order and seeing the order had negatived his or her motion, he would only be begging to withdraw that motion. That was not the case with Akpabio. And to make matters worse, the clerks at the table were also looking lost. They could not guide the presiding officer in any way. That tells a bit about human resource capacity in the assembly. But then the Senate Leader, Opeyemi Bamidele and the Chief Whip, Mohammed Monguno, who have spent quite a long time in the National Assembly, should know better. Their interventions did more damage to Akpabio’s Senate. Once the President of the Senate had ruled Senator Natasha in order to submit a petition she personally signed, (against the rules of the Senate which forbids such), and the Kogi Central senator had approached the chair and laid the petition on the table, the matter in a way becomes sub judice, to borrow the language of the law. The Senate Rule Book classifies such an action as “Matters Not open to Debate.” So at that point, the matter was no longer open to debate. Since the gavel has been hit and the action has been taken, no senator has the right to reopen the case. It was wrong of Senator Bamidele and Monguno to immediately start to revisit a closed matter, and that’s illegal. It is wrong for Akpabio to allow it.
I recall an incident in the 6th Senate when President Umaru Yar’Adua was bedridden in Saudi Arabia. Some senators moved a motion, seeking the Senate to constitute a panel to visit Saudi and ascertain the health status of the president. Somehow, when the motion was finally passed on a day, Senator Ike Ekweremadu presided, it turned out that the motion only mandated the Federal Executive Council to do the assignment. The original proponents of the motion were enraged, but they were not allowed to reopen the matter. They had to go into lobbying and eventually secured signatures of two-thirds of the Senate to re-table the matter and that paved the way for the adoption of the famous “Doctrine of Necessity.” That’s how serious the matter should be handled, but it was trivialized by Akpabio, the Senate Leader and Senate Whip. That’s on the wrong side of the rule.
Now that Senator Akpoti-Uduaghan has been suspended, many would say she was being silenced. That is far from the truth. Her suspension was on the basis of what the senate perceived as unruly behavior on the floor. We are yet to hear the details of her sexual harassment allegations, and I believe that she has avenues to ventilate that. Nigerians earnestly await these details, which should be salacious enough to help us cool off some heat.
Opinion
Now that Natasha has made Akpabio happy

In South Africa under the presidency of Jacob Zuma, any analysis of government and governance without factoring sex into the mix was tame and lame. Zuma was a notorious polygamist who had six official wives as president, many more by unofficial account and 22 children from the liaisons.
He was a kingpin of lechery. On May 8, 2006, a South African court under Judge van der Merwe acquitted him of rape of Fezekile Ntsukela Kuzwayo, an HIV-positive AIDS activist, who was the daughter of his friend, Judson Kuzwayo. During trial, Zuma pleaded that the sex was consensual but admitted that he had unprotected sex with the lady. He then stunned the world with his bizarre claim that he had “showered afterwards to cut the risk of contracting the infection.”
In the process of studying power relations in Nigeria, sex as a phenomenon is often understudied or underrated. In other words, while power relations are known to be shaped by a complex interplay of factors that range from the economic, political, social, to the cultural, including individual characteristics and relationship dynamics, hardly are gender and sex reckoned with.
In my piece of March 6, 2022 with the title, Buhari’s Serial Rape Of Nigeria’s Lady Justice, I doubled down on a sub-theme of the powerful role sex plays in national politics. To do justice to this, I recalled a September 7, 2008 cartoon sketched by Jonathan Shapiro, award-winning cartoonist with the Johannesburg-based Sunday Times whose cartoon identity was Zapiro. I illustrated the piece with a submission that though political cartooning may look harmless, it can be nerve-racking, provoking the bile of political office holders and triggering a huge political umbrage in the process. This cartoon triggered a huge ball of fire in South Africa. Named ‘Rape of Lady Justice’, in it, Zuma, who was then leader of the African National Congress (ANC), and later to become president, was seen loosening his trousers’ zippers for a sexual romp. On his head was a shower cap. Before him, flung on the bare floor, was a blindfolded lady with a lapel inscribed, “Justice System” hung on her chest.
Four hefty and menacing-looking men knelt by the Lady Justice’s side, holding down the “wench”, whose skirt was half peeled off. They were political surrogates of Zuma in the ANC, which included Julius Malema, then leader of the ANC Youth League. The scale of justice had fallen down beside the Lady Justice, with one of the men smilingly beckoning on Zuma to clamber her, muttering, “Go for it, boss!”
That cartoon shot Zuma into a fit. Indeed, he immediately sued Zapiro for the sum of £700,000. Massive reactions followed it, ranging from the condemnatory to the laudatory. The ANC, SACP and ANC Youth League pilloried it as “hate speech,” “disgusting” and “bordering on defamation of character” and then petitioned the South African Human Rights Commission for redress.
I went into all these dogo turenchi, just as I did in another piece I wrote on February 6, 2022, to ask that we must not underrate the power of sex in high places. In that February piece, I borrowed a line from Irish poet and playwright, Oscar Wilde, who said, “everything in the world is about sex, except sex. Sex is about power”. With it, I submitted that the Wilde theory should tell us that there is an intersection between gender, sexual power and political power. This was further escalated by renowned scholar, Prof Wale Adebanwi, in one of his journal articles, where he submitted that “the African man of power must display or exhibit his virility – particularly sexual virility.” In the same vein, Zimbabwean journalist and blogger, Fungai Machirori, urged us to study the sexual histories of our men in power because, from the rhythm of their silently dangling penises, we may find a compass to their politics.
Last Thursday, the ghost of the spat between Senate President, Godswill Akpabio and senator representing Kogi West, Natasha Akpoti-Uduaghan, will seem to have rested. In the relations of power in the senate, on that day, Akpabio, it will seem, had succeeded in showing Akpoti-Uduaghan that, as bland-looking as the old Nigerian pence looked, it was not a currency to be trifled with by the Kobo coin (Bí tọrọ ṣe yọ to, kíì s’ẹgbẹ Kọbọ). Not only was she suspended for six months for violating senate rules and bringing the senate “to public opprobrium”, her salary and security details were withdrawn while her office would be locked during the pendency of the suspension.
If you watched the senate proceedings leading to Akpoti-Uduaghan’s suspension, you would be sorry for Nigeria. Then, African-American Sterling Brown would come to your mind, just as you visualize Jonathan Shapiro’s cartoon in Akpabio figuratively loosening his trousers’ zippers for a forceful sexual romp with the Lady Justice. With same lens, you would see Majority Leader, Opeyemi Bamidele, Adenigba Fadahunsi and other fawning senators holding down the “wench”, smilingly beckoning Akpabio to “Go for it, boss!”
Like Africans, African-Americans grew to know the wisdom which teaches that injustice is a furnace that burns and destroys. The life of Sterling Brown, professor at America’s Howard University, folklorist, poet and literary critic, was chiefly dedicated to studying black culture. In one of his poems entitled “Old Lem,” Brown wrote about mob violence and injustice which black people suffered in the hands of the American criminal justice system. American writer and civil rights activist, James Baldwin’s ‘The Fire Next Time’ also speaks to this theme. In the America of the time, black parents, aware of the danger of their blackness and the violence and death they could suffer, deployed folklore to cushion them, even as they told stories that depicted their skewed realities.
There was this famous folklore told to African-American children while growing up. Entitled “Old Sis Goose,” it goes thus, as I reproduce it verbatim: One day, “while swimming across a pond, Sis Goose got caught by Brer Fox. Sis gets pissed off because she believes that she has a perfect right to swim in the pond. She decides to sue Brer Fox. But when the case gets to court, Sis Goose looks around and sees that besides the Sheriff who is a fox, the judge is a fox, the prosecuting and defence attorneys are ones too and even the jury is comprised entirely of foxes. Sis Goose doesn’t like her chances. Sure enough at the end of the trial, Sis Goose is convicted and summarily executed. Soon, the jury, judge, Sheriff and the attorneys are picking on her bones.”
The morals of this old anecdote are two. One, as encapsulated in one of the lines of Apala musician, Ayinla Omowura’s track, is that, if you do not have a representative in a council where your matter will be decided, even if you are right, you would be adjudged guilty. The second moral is that, if the courthouse is filled with foxes and you are an ordinary, lonely goose, there will be no justice for you.
In the senate last week, Akpoti-Uduaghan was Sis Goose who looked around and saw that, beside the judge, Akpabio who is a fox, the prosecuting and defence attorneys were all foxes, too. Even the jury is comprised entirely of foxes. Though they appeared as unbiased umpire senators, they were flesh-starved foxes baying for blood of the hapless little Goose. And Sis Goose was summarily executed.
First, we must realize that, just like other Nigerian institutions, the power, glory, graft and corruption at the beck and call of Akpabio’s senate presidency is breathtakingly awesome and humongous. Don’t mind his suffocation of these agencies in his most times nauseating jokes, Akpabio has the power to literally turn anyone’s night into day. If you enter his senate as a pauper and find favour in his ego, you could upstage Mansa Musa, ninth Mansa of the Mali empire’s wealth. Owing to this largesse in his hands, as ants gravitate towards the pee of a diabetic, the senate president has the pleasure of a humongous number of solicited and unsolicited fawners and senatorial Oraisa (praise-singers) and hangers-on latching to his apron strings. It is a tactic to have a bite of the corruptive mountain of pies in the hands of the titular. This need to grovel by the feet of power was affirmed by Senator Opeyemi Bamidele. Akpoti-Uduaghan had alleged that, in a midnight call he made to her, he had threatened that, if Akpabio went down, she, too (ostensibly meaning a huge mound of free wealth) would similarly go into the incinerator.
As I recalled last week, immediately Akpoti-Uduaghan leveled allegations of sexual harassment against Akpabio on Arise TV, a build-up began to salvage Akpabio, the King Fox and prevent the largesse empire from falling. First came Onyekachi Nwaebonyi, senator representing Ebonyi North. Nwaebonyi’s fawning is nauseating. On a television show, he acknowledged Akpabio, a first among equals senator, as “our father” and had to be rebuked like an erring kindergarten pupil by the anchor of the programme. Nwaebonyi later came back to attack Akpoti-Uduaghan in the unkindest manner as a serial philanderer. Thereafter came Ireti Kingibe and Neda Imasuen. While Kingibe, who claimed to have driven herself to the television station, struggled frenetically to make her female senator colleague the victimizer, she deodorized King Fox as her victim. Imasuen, chairman senate committee on ethics, even before his committee sat on the alleged infraction of Akpoti-Uduaghan, told the world on another television interview that Akpabio shared same beatification qualities with Angel Gabriel. The question then is, if Nwaebonyi, Kingibe, Yemi Adaramodu and Imasuen could externalize an issue on television and not the parliament, what criminalizes, in the so-called senate rules, Akpoti-Uduaghan doing same?
At the televised senate hearing, King Fox, in defiance of the rules of equity and justice, was judge, jury and accused who sat in judgment over his own case. Second, it was obvious that the foxes had gathered for Akpoti-Uduaghan’s legislative obsequies. It was also apparent that the executioners had been carefully selected for the job. One by one, the senators assembled arsenal with which to shed the Kogi senator’s blood. Chief Whip Mohammed Monguno clinically prepared the guillotine. Spears, axes, knives and swords were readied. Monguno stood up and went into oblique narration of how Standing Order 55(1) had been violated. Now, like an objectionable character, a meddlesome interloper who Yoruba call Karambani, Kogi West Senator, Sunday Karimi, acting like all fawners at the feet of power, admitted he put Akpabio in “this problem” because he pleaded with King Fox to allot chairmanship position to Akpoti-Uduaghan.
Then, Ade Fadahunsi, ex-Customs officer, representing Osun East, began his own gibber on the floor of the senate. While accepting that the senate was a consequential parliament and that its integrity(?) had gone down, Fadahunsi saw the allegation of sexual harassment against King Fox as “mere trivial matter” and admitted he didn’t “want to know what is the undercurrent.” In his parliamentary arrogance, Fadahunsi even saw it as “an insult” for “a radio we licensed” to invite a man alleged to have gone on a rampaging libido to come and explain what he saw inside the pot of soup that made him tilt his hands suggestively (t’ó rí l’obe t’ó fí gaaru ọwọ). Fadahunsi then lifted the bible to reify his doggerel, fawning over King Fox in the process.
Still during the executioners’ hearing aimed at taking Akpoti-Uduaghan through the gallows, Mohammed Dandutse, representing Katsina South senatorial district, stood up, his babanriga fluffing helplessly like the lame hand of an invalid. He waffled so pitiably that you would wonder what he was talking about. After him, Cyril Fasuyi, in his usual kowtow, did not fail to fawn. Even Senator Ita Giwa, on television, propounded a bizarre theory which argued that, once a woman had risen to become a senator, she was immune to sexual harassment. This pitiably suggested that a woman senator must have had enough of men to be moved by the typhoon of their harassment. Nigerians’ mouths were agape.
So many issues crop up from the Akpoti-Uduaghan travails. The first can be seen from Opeyemi Bamidele’s argument in favour of her suspension. During this executioners’ session, he argued that the Kogi senator must have been so execrable in behaviour that, all political parties, all genders and all age demographics were in alignment with King Fox against her. Opeyemi did not tell Nigerians that the executioner senators were only defending their esophaguses in the hands of King Fox.
As argued by many, the National Assembly is our modern day equivalent of the “I” as “We” thesis, the secrecy and single-purpose pursuit cult of the Yoruba Ogboni fraternity. Espoused by Peter Morton-Williams in his journal article entitled, “The Yoruba Ogboni Cult” (Africa: Journal of the International African Institute, Vol. 30, No. 4 (Oct., 1960, pp. 362-374) Morton-Williams didn’t follow Leo Frobenius’ earlier 1910 examination of the Ogboni cult in Ibadan, in the process of which he referred to its members as “mystery-mongering greybeards’.
Morton-Williams classified the Ogboni Cult into two grades membership – the Wé-Wé -Wé – ‘children’ of the cult, its junior grade Ologboni or Alawo (Owners of the Mystery or the Secret), and the the Olori Oluwo, ritual head of the Ogboni. The Nigerian senate is similarly classified, with the Senate President replicating the Oluwo. The senate chambers, which is akin to the Ilédì (lodge) of the Ogboni, is where secrets are lidded. In Ogboni cult, kolanuts are split and eaten as an act of reminder that the Ogboni members are bonded in secrecy. This act makes it very hard for any of the Ogboni to factionalize the fraternity and breaking the pod of secrecy that binds the cult. Any member who violates this code courts ritual sanction. As the Ẹdan Ogboni, a pair of brass/bronze figure that represents male/female, linked by a chain, is a symbol of membership and abidance by the rules, so is the Senate Order book. So, when Remi Tinubu, a woman who had also once been a victim of verbal sexual flagellation, also came out to reinforce the power of the secrecy of the Senate over an alleged debasement of womanhood, it only confirmed the fraternal solidarity of this modern senate cult.
The Akpoti-Uduaghan travails have so many symbolisms. One is gender, in which case, the Kogi senator is suffering the audacity of her femininity. In this patriarchal society, it is a crime for a woman to be beautiful, brainy and, on top of it, attempt to disrupt the status-quo. The penal sanction meted out to such disruptors is ostracism or death, as is in the Ogboni cult. Second is that, as the pigeon (eyele), the bird that eats and drinks with the house owner in time of plenty, the senate fraternity considers it sacrilegious for Akpoti-Uduaghan to repudiate the fraternity oath. The Ilédì, Senate chambers, a la Senator Ita Giwa, is home for the lascivious, the sleazy and the heart-wrenching. As the harvest for the seed of membership of Ogboni is prestige, wealth and societal honour, for the Nigerian senator, it is humongous cash. If Akpoti-Uduaghan is aquaphobic, not ready to face the ostracism that logically comes from fighting a fraternity’s status-quo of which she had been a member, she had no reason to jump inside the river.
For the man of power, sex is a conquest game, won either by shedding drops of a virile libido or the victory of ego over a woman traducer. It was what Adebanwi meant by his “the African man of power must display or exhibit his virility – particularly sexual virility.” As it stands now, Fox Akpabio has succeeded, according to Akpoti-Uduaghan’s unsubstantiated allegation, in being “made happy” through his summary execution of the Goose. For how long? Only time will tell.
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