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Olúségun Obásanjó’s pounded yam

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Olúségun Obásanjó’s mother told him at the very beginning that if pounded yam is not much, it must be made hard and tough (iyán tí kò pò, ó gbodò yi). Read his biographies. Ashabi Obasanjo Bankole had only him and his sister, Adunni. Her hearth had enough embers, her mortar and pestle had diligence but her yam was small and she knew it. So, she did extra work in the making of her Olusegun’s pounded yam. The result is the mouthful which Nigeria has had of the soldier since 1975 – or rather, since he journeyed into the army in 1958.

I am not sure if I meet Obasanjo tomorrow I will greet him. At least, if I can avoid him, I will. And that won’t be because I was not trained to greet elders. I will avoid him because this elder I greeted twice in the past and twice I got the same response: He snubbed me – and you know what snub means: ignore, rebuff, repulse. Those are not nice words. On each of those occasions, what I felt was that the sun should not ignore a village because it is not a city. But I cannot ignore the General’s moves and movements – because they potentially impact me; because I am a Nigerian. And so, I read him left to right; right to left. And I will be shocked if there are not other Nigerians – millions – who do what I do.

Something happened last week in Abeokuta. If you sell your relation for a kobo, you won’t be able to buy him back for a billion naira. That is why it is said that the elderly are brisk with the ears and the eyes, never with the lips. At the June 2018 national convention of the All Progressives Congress (APC) where Adams Oshiomhole was elected chairman, Senator Bola Tinubu had some words for General Obasanjo. He said the former president was a homeless busybody who poked his nose into APC’s affairs by asking Muhammadu Buhari not to seek a second term. “Thank God he (Obasanjo) is not a part of our party; this busybody. Unfortunately he has torn the card of his previous party so he has no home.” That is what Tinubu said. And it was not the only time the Asiwaju of Everybody, an aspiring president, poured odium on the former president. The group he leads has unruly dogs primed to snatch the walking stick from our elders. So, when I saw Tinubu in the home of ‘homeless’ Obasanjo last week, I saw irony in ways my literature teacher couldn’t teach me. If the axe forgot, would the tree forget too? I was eager to know if the Balogun of Owu had a reply for the discourteous Balogun of Borgu. Obasanjo is an Owu man. We are told Owu has no sword for revenge but his tongue talks forever about wrongs done to him. But in vain we waited. Obasanjo did not respond to that past of insults.

There are really very few saints here. The General himself has a nagging past of immolation of his brothers to appease alien gods of Nigeria. In his very private moments, he should be contrite and seek forgiveness.

Why do strong and not strong politicians go to strongmen for electoral support? How many votes do they command? Unless you are in politics you may not know. But will it help if you read Mario Puzo’s The Godfather? You may also check Stan Lee’s Kingpin. People like Obasanjo have special pots of hot water in which they dip unruly buttocks. There was a 19th century warrior in Yoruba land (Fabunmi) whose praise name includes one “who snatches a tree branch from the monkey’s grip.” That line fits Obasanjo, especially when you try to count how many monkeys he has had to grapple with in the last twelve years. And you remember this line in the poem, ‘Elephant’: One “who tears a man like a garment and hangs him up on a tree.” Elephant has very thick skin; his eyes see far and his ears travel beyond the forest, his trumpet shrill as the final call. With his dense temporal lobe, the elephant never forgets. Because he is a moving mountain, ponderous Obasanjo is a perpetual ‘man in the news.’ He was in the news for most of last week – Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday. There are videos of Obasanjo trending as I write. In one – with Charly Boy – he describes himself as “father of frustrated Nigerian youths.” I know where he is coming from. Our ancestors said a “child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth.” Ask northern Nigeria. Today’s terrorists were yesterday’s leftovers. Obasanjo warned four years ago that we “should not reinforce failure.” We did and today Nigeria is homeless home and abroad. He warned repeatedly and was called names. He has also been very loud on those who would make the fighting force of tomorrow’s Boko Haram. He said they are the almajirai of today.

On Friday, 23 September, 2011, I wrote a piece on Obasanjo, man of war and peace. It was to that piece I ran when the APC caravan entered Abeokuta last week. Some of the old lines I repeat here – and there. What I wrote eleven years ago was triggered by his daring march into the den of Boko Haram in Maiduguri in search of peace. The sore hadn’t become cancerous that time. He sat down with the terrorists; they told him their problem with Nigeria; they told him what they would take. The man came back with a report – And what happened to his report? Ask Goodluck Jonathan.

In the Foreword to Shehu Musa Yar’Adua, A life of Service, the biography of his deputy as military Head of State, Obasanjo identifies what he defines as military war and political war. Political war, he holds, is much more challenging and dangerous than nuclear warheads and battle tanks. He thought he understood perfectly the meaning of war in both situations. But he must be taking new lessons now on how to get politicians to be committed to commitments. He held a meeting with those he called “brothers” last week. They begged him to keep it out of the news; he kept it out of the news; those who asked him to keep quiet addressed the press. If that was an ambush, it would appear the attackers picked on the wrong prey. On Saturday, Obasanjo poured water on infantile fires of the Èmi l’ókàn’ people whom he accused of “claiming to be insiders” at his meeting with Tinubu and crediting to him statements he had not made. Silence when you should not be silent, he apparently remembered, begets misfortune.

A man trained in the cold-blooded art of war, Obasanjo swore to fight on land, sea and in the air in defence of the fatherland. He took the solemn military oath to die for the nation. But his life has not been about just dying for the nation, he has also perfected the art of living for Nigeria. His biographer, Onukaba Adinoyi Ojo, quoted the poet, Odia Ofeimun, as describing Obasanjo as “a small man striving always to rise higher” and though “not without warts”, he is simply “a dutiful human being… readier to shine than he is to be charitable to other stars.”

A man of destiny, it would appear that his lot had been to have others work hard enough for him to climb higher. He took over the command of the Third Marine Commando from his course mate, the “flamboyant and courageous” Black Scorpion, Brigadier Benjamin Adekunle, on May 12, 1969 and by 12th January, 1970, Biafra surrendered to him. Five years later, he did not know about the coup that ousted Yakubu Gowon but inscrutable fate made the coup plotters insist he joined Murtala Mohammed to run the new government. When Murtala Mohammed, the first Kano man to rule Nigeria, was killed in Col. B. S. Dimka’s abortive coup of February 13, 1976, Obasanjo inherited the throne. When Sani Abacha, the second ruler of Nigeria from Kano, died on the throne like the first, it was nature’s way of preparing the throne again for Olusegun Obasanjo.

In “military wars,” he always escaped the bullets, even having the other person take them on his behalf. Benjamin Adekunle told a story which Obasanjo denied: At the Regular Officers’ Special Training School, Teshie, Ghana in 1958, there was a parade and Obasanjo moved the wrong leg. In the military, every wrong move has a punishment. There was for this particular one; the expatriate Company Sergeant Major (CSM) thought Adekunle was the culprit, coughed and ordered the Nigerian to open his mouth for his phlegm. “How does it taste?” What would the cadet say other than “Fine sir”? In the 1976 Dimka coup, a deadly version of the bullet-swap happened to then Colonel Mathew Ray Dumuje; he took the route Obasanjo was meant to take and the coupists thought he was Obasanjo; they shot him. In March 1961, he was in the Congo on United Nations Peacekeeping mission when Congolese soldiers abducted him. He was seconds away from execution when a counter, superior order came that Lieutenant Oba must not be killed. Some others were not that lucky. Five years later in January 1966, Obasanjo arrived in Nigeria the night of the first coup and was, in fact, housed by Major Kaduna Nzeogwu, one of the masterminds in Kaduna. And when his host’s coup failed and southern officers were mass-murdered, Hassan Katsina, who had emerged leader of northern region’s band of vengeful military officers, was quoted as saying “We must do everything to protect Obasanjo from harm. Nigeria will need him in future.”

A man not given to orthodoxy, at the height of the battle against apartheid in South Africa, Four-Star General Obasanjo publicly prescribed African juju as the weapon to chase away the white supremacist. And he fights his own wars (cowards use proxies); every day presents fresh opportunities to test his biceps, his ever-ready prowess. His tough, deliberate physique advertises him as an elephant ready to uproot any stubborn forest on its path. He does not mind stepping on toes if it is in pursuit and attainment of his goals. He has the mindset of a messiah, although he does not see the other person as a possible messiah. He is an enigma who does not care what the world says about him, and about his private and public actions.

Like Mark Twain’s Henry VIII, Olusegun Obasanjo loves women. He loves money. He loves power. He covets and cuddles all these. He does not joke with anybody with any of these three prima indices of raw success. The old man updates himself like a sloughing, molting snake – growing, gathering and shaking off parasites. He loves knowledge for his person – e.g. getting a PhD at old age. And I think I read somewhere that twelve of his children have PhD. He enjoys showing off his native intelligence and deep understanding of the ways of man. He is the quintessential king, “in his bloom… a blossom”, coveting the good things of life and fighting his battles without giving anybody a chance. His critics say sometimes he repays good with the opposite of good. A man who was heaved out of jail and deposited onto power by the traditional kingmakers of Nigeria, Obasanjo waited till after the 1999 elections to announce to his backers that if they saw their moral and financial support for his aspiration as an investment, they were mistaken. “They just lost that investment,” he gleefully declared. Those financiers were soon to know the currency of truth spoken by a daredevil soldier.

Despite the hubris that drags his ponderous frame, however, even his most ardent critic would refrain from faulting his patriotic commitment to the Nigerian nation. How wise that is in the light of current structural realities, I do not know. But I know that in critical moments in the nation’s history, he always showed up to lead the pull-back from the precipice. His September 2011 expedition to bloody Jos and to terrorist Boko Haram in Maiduguri was a continuation of the story of one man whose history and that of Nigeria conjoin. Perhaps in his passion for Nigeria, warts and all, and for its continued peaceful existence, Obasanjo is just showing gratitude to God for making him the greatest beneficiary of the amalgamation of 1914.

The Yoruba content of the APC who routinely use elders as their chewing stick were in the old soldier’s home last week in search of power. Political playboys are adroit at taking preys to bed -in repeated times. If Obasanjo was their navigator in 2015, why not in 2023? Last week, he received them warmly and held their hands; he wined and dined with them. He cracked jokes too: “Èmi l’ókàn; Eléyi; Ó lu’lè – I don’t know if they are good words, but we will be using them.” Obasanjo is an Owu man. Olowu was that king who went out at dawn with six subjects. He returned at dusk with one lonely one. What did he do with the remaining five? He fed them to the gods of vengeance. There is a tree in Yoruba forest called Ìrókò. You can abuse Ìrókò; you can even curse it. Ìrókò does not reply insults; it kills – but definitely not immediately.

 

 

Celebrated columnist, Lasisi Olagunju writes

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NASS Pensioners: How Akpabio, Abbas Should Not Treat The Elderly

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On Monday and Tuesday last week, workers and political operatives within the precincts of the new Senate building in the National Assembly complex, Abuja, were treated to a replica of the Theatre of the Absurd. This type of drama originated in Europe and later spread to America in the 1950s. It was influenced by existential philosophy and Albert Camus’s essay The Myth of Sisyphus.

In that work, Camus captured the fundamental human needs and compared the absurdity of man’s life with the situation a figure of Greek mythology, Sisyphus found himself, where he was condemned to repeat forever the task of pushing a boulder up a mountain, and repeatedly sees the same roll down the hill as he approaches the top.

He, thereafter, juxtaposed life’s absurdities with what he called the “unreasonable silence” of the universe to human needs and concluded that rather than adopt suicide, in frustration, “revolt” was required.

82-year-old Dr. Muhammed Adamu Fika, former Clerk to the National Assembly and former Chairman, of the National Assembly Service Commission (NASC), who calls himself the “smaller Adamu Fika,” must have come across the Camus essay in deciding to lead an emergency meeting of the Council of Retired Clerks and Secretaries of the National Assembly on November 18. The emergency meeting, which was jointly held with members of the Association of Retired Staff of the National Assembly was meant to salvage the pathetic plights of the National Assembly retirees.

Eighty-two-year-old Fika can hardly gather the pace to navigate round the corners of the National Assembly, but he insisted on making the trip to enable him to preside over the meeting as the Chairman of the Board of Trustees of the Council of Retired Clerks and Secretaries. As his retiree colleagues, many of whom are far younger, saw him struggling to walk the required distance from the Bola Ahmed Tinubu Library, originally fixed as venue to the new Senate building, they had to provide some shoulders to lean on. At one stage, an office chair was converted to a wheelchair to ensure the elderly Fika got to certain locations. It was a sad tale, especially if you look at the essence of Fika’s trip to the National Assembly. He was there to preside over a meeting to press home the need for the payment of the entitlements of National Assembly retirees. An alarm had earlier been sounded on the different Whatsapp platforms of the retired workers of the National Assembly to the effect their members were dying in numbers. It was revealed that no fewer than 20 retired workers had died awaiting the payment of their entitlements in the recent past. Another set of retirees numbering 12 were said to have been bedridden in different hospitals across the land. That alarm was more than enough to prompt Fika and his retiree colleagues to an emergency meeting. But the sight of an elderly man, fighting a just cause on an improvised wheelchair was more than absurd.

Payment of the entitlements got stalled after former President Muhammadu Buhari assented to the National Assembly Service Pensions Board Act, 2023, which mandated the National Pensions Commission (PENCOM) to hand over assets of the staff of the National Assembly in its custody after the passage of the National Assembly pension law.

In the beginning, there were no signs that things would go south on the implementation of the Act. Three months after the National Assembly Service Pensions Board Act came into effect, PENCOM had written the management to convey its decision to hand off the pension assets of the staff of the National Assembly, while requesting the National Assembly management to provide it with account details to remit the accrued funds. The 10th Senate and the House of Representatives also provided hope for the retirees by providing a take-off grant to the tune of N2.5 billion in the 2024 budget. However, the NASS management could not comply with the request from PENCOM because the Pensions Board had not been inaugurated. Months after months, the retirees waited. Those who were already enjoying their benefits when PENCOM was administering had the payments terminated, while the waiting game ensued.

In trying to fast-track the implementation of the Act, Fika, as the Chairman of the Board of Trustees of the Council of Retired Clerks and Secretaries had forwarded a letter to the President of the Senate, Godswill Akpabio, and the Speaker of the House of Representatives, Tajudeen Abbas, intimating them of the council’s recommendations for positions in the National Assembly Service Pensions Board.

Fika said in the letter, dated February 27, 2024, that “Considering the pathetic health conditions of our retired colleagues, Your Excellency will agree with me that the establishment of the National Assembly Pensions Board is overdue five (5) months after Mr. President’s assent.” He said that his letter was premised on the provisions of Sections 2 and 17(3) of the National Assembly Service Pensions Board Act, 2023, which indicate that the presiding officers of the National Assembly shall make the appointments subject to recommendations of the Council of Clerks and Secretaries. But some persons are insinuating that the undue delay might have been instigated by two strange bedfellows-politics and money. Where the two are involved, simply things hardly follow a straight course. However, nothing justifies the nearly 20-month delay in inaugurating the Pensions Board.

At the end of the emergency meeting on Monday, further meetings were said to have been scheduled at the instance of the Senate President, Akpabio, his deputy, Jibril Barau and others but there were no conclusive steps, yet.

A communique released after the meeting indicated that the retirees observed that the National Assembly Service Pensions Board Act, 2023 went through full legislative process in the 9th National Assembly and was assented to by President Muhammad Buhari. It further noted that the delay in implementing the Act has caused undue and untold hardship to the retirees who are unable to access their retirement benefits, adding that while a number of the retired Staff have died, many others are bedridden due to sufferings occasioned by the non-payment of their entitlements.

According to the communique, the meeting decried the pains the retired staff have been subjected to and recalled that appropriate recommendations as per the composition of the Pensions Board have been made to the Presiding Officers of the National Assembly, in line with the enabling Act.

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The Fuji Music House Of Commotion

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Like every lover of Yoruba traditional music, language and culture, I have of recent been inundated with requests to lend a voice to the newest raging fire in the Fuji music genre. Since the passage of Alhaji Sikiru Ayinde Balogun, popularly known as Ayinde Barrister or Agbajelola Barusati, there have been longstanding tiffs on whom of the trio of Ayinde Omogbolahan Anifowose, KWAM 1; self-named King Saheed Osupa (K.S.O.) and Wasiu Alabi Pasuma, was the “King.”

These musicians’ recent quest for supremacy is not new. From time immemorial, supremacy battles have been part and parcel of Yoruba music. Apparently now tempered by modernity, in the olden days, the battles were fought with traditional spells, incantations and talisman aimed at deconstructing and liquidating their rivals. Mostly fought on genre basis, I submit that pre and post-independence entertainment scene would have been livelier, far more robust than it was but for the acrimonious liquidating fights of those eras.

In the Sakara music, Abibu Oluwa, a revered early precursor of this Yoruba musical genre, who reigned in the late 1920s and 1930s, had Salami Alabi Balogun, popularly known as Lefty Salami, Baba Mukaila and Yusuff Olatunji as members of his band. Oluwa praise-sang many Lagos elites of his time, especially Herbert Macaulay to whom he sang his praise in the famous track named “Macaulay Macaulay.” In it, he sang the foremost Nigerian nationalist’s alias of Ejonigboro – Snake on the Street and prayed that he would not come to shame.

Sakara also produced the likes of S. Aka Baba Wahidi, Kelani Yesufu (alias Kelly). It was sung with traditional Yoruba instruments like the solemn-sounding goje violin whose history is traced to the north, and the roundish Sakara drum, beaten with stick and whose appearance is like that of a tambourine. Sakara music is often called the Yoruba variant of western blues music because of its brooding rhythm though laced with a high dosage of philosophy.

When Oluwa died in 1964, he literally handed over to Lefty who, born on October 1913, died December 29, 1981. Lefty, a talking drummer under Oluwa, churned out over 35 records before his demise, one of which was a tribute to Lagos monarch, Oba Adele (Adele l’awa nfe – Oba Adele is the king we want) and another to the Elegushi family. I dwelt considerably on Sakara because it is believed to have had considerable influence on other genres of traditional African Yoruba music, especially Apala and Fuji, with the former sometimes indistinguishable from Sakara.

Apala music, whose exponent is said to be Haruna Ishola, originated in the late 1930s Nigeria. Delivered with musical instruments like a rattle (Sekere) thumb piano, (agidigbo) drums called Iya Ilu and Omele, a bell (agogo) and two or three talking drums, Apala and Sakara are the most complex of these genres of traditional Yoruba music, due to their infusion of philosophy, incantations and dense Yoruba language into their mix. Distinct, older and more difficult in mastery than Fuji music which is considered to be comparatively easy to sing, Ayinla Omowura, Ligali Mukaiba, Kasumu Adio, and many others were Apala leading lights of the time. The three genres have very dense Islamic background.

The latest entrant of all the three genres is Fuji. Pioneered by Ayinde Barrister no doubt, for an Apala musician biographer like me, I am confused that Omowura, as far back as early 1970s, asked listeners in need of good Fuji music to come learn from him – “Fuji t’o dara, e wa ko l’owo egbe wa…” Sorry, I digressed.

While KWAM 1 emerged with his Talazo music from the ashes of his being a music instrument arranger for Barrister’s musical organization in the early 1980s, the feud in the house after Barrister’s death erupted when narratives allegedly oozed unto the musical scene that KWAM 1 referred to himself as the creator of Fuji music. He however promptly denied the claim. For decades, Osupa and Pasuma were locked in horns over supremacy of the Fuji music genre. In August 2023, the two however seemed to have decided to thaw their feud as they shared stage with Wasiu Ayinde, at Ahmad Alawiye Folawiyo, an Islamic singer’s 50th birthday celebration in Lagos. KWAM 1 glibly acted as their senior colleague at the event.

As an indication that they are no bastards of the teething and recurrent supremacy battles that emblemize traditional Yoruba music, the three Fuji music icons seem to have gone into the trenches again. It first started with Taiye Currency, an Ibadan-based alter-ego of Pasuma picking a fight with the musician who self-styled himself Son of Anobi Muhammed’s Wife. In a viral video, Currency had disclaimed reference to Pasuma as his “father” in the music industry. In another video not long after, KWAM 1, like some kind of father figure, was shown asking Currency to apologize to Pasuma.

A few days ago, a video of Osupa went viral. Therein, he was chastising a particular hypocrite he called “Onirikimo” and “alabosi”, who is “stingy and is ready to shamelessly collect money from those under him.” Osupa also claimed that this “shameless elder” had strung a ring of corn round his waist and should be ready to be made fun of by hens. Watchers of the endless tiffs among these Fuji icons swear that KWAM 1 was the unnamed Fuji musician Osupa was casting aspersion on.

The trio of Sakara, Apala and Fuji music also witnessed such petty squabbles. While many claim that the fights were promotional gambits aimed at having their fans salivate for their hate-laced musical attacks against one another, some others claim that the rivalries were genuine. In the Apala music scene, Haruna Ishola and Kasumu Adio fought each other to the nadir, with Adio, who sang almost in the same voice and cadence as Ishola, suddenly vamoosing from the musical scene. Rumours and speculations had it then that a mysterious goat bit Adio and rendered him useless. While Ayinla Omowura also fought Fatai Olowonyo, Fatai Ayilara, among others in the Apala genre, the duo of Yusuff Olatunji and S. Aka also feuded till their last days. This is not to mention the interminable fight between Kollington Ayinla and Barrister.

If the tiff between the trio of KWAM 1, Osupa and Pasuma is about age and Yoruba traditional respect for elders, KWAM 1 would easily go away with the trophy of the best of the three. However, if philosophical depth, musical elan, research of lyrics and deployment of Yoruba language are at issue, none of the other two musicians can unbuckle Osupa’s sandals. Osupa began his musical career in 1983 as a teenager and has gone through the mills, his late father being a musician, too and Awurebe music lord, Dauda Epo Akara’s musical contemporary.

Unlike their predecessors, the three Fuji musicians are literate and should thus address their musical issues in more mature manner. Osupa even recently bagged a degree from the department of Political Science, University of Ibadan. One thing they should know is that, whether one is supreme to the other or not, their fans will readily queue behind the brand that delights them.

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Almajiri: Why Northern Leaders Must Look Themselves in the Mirror

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Two incidents happened during the 1994/95 NYSC service year, which I was part of in Birnin-Kebbi, Kebbi State, and they gave me profound culture shocks that I still remember till today. I would equally say that those incidents probably justified the Federal Government’s decision to float the scheme.

 

We were told that part of the reasons General Yakubu Gowon floated the NYSC was to ensure national integration, cohesion and exposure of young Nigerians to cultures of other parts of the country other than where they were born.

First was the shock of seeing a director that I was attached to in the then Government House, who had just taken a new wife, and sat among drivers, gate men and other junior staff to dine. I saw them seated round a huge iron pot of Koko, a local delicacy, exchanging one big spoon made of calabash, as each took turns to use the spoon to eat the delicacy. It was as if I was witnessing a scene where children of a big family were struggling to catch a portion of food or where people were eating Saara, as they say it in Yorubaland.

As I walked past the noisy crowd, I was transfixed seeing the newly-wedded director among the lot. He saw me standing still, as I couldn’t comprehend what he was doing there, and he got the message. ‘Taiyo, (as he used to call me) you won’t understand,’ he said as he waved to me to keep going. When we later saw, he explained that what he just did was a way of assuring the commoners that ‘we are all one,’ as they felicitated him on the new bride. But I could not fathom how the occupant of a ‘huge office’ as that of a director in a Government House , would sit among “commoners” on a tattered mat to share a single spoon and eat in public.
The other incident was quite pathetic. My friend, Tunde Omobuwa, was posted to a school in Yauri, in the southern part of the state, for his primary assignment. But he found the place boring on weekends. So, he arranged to always be with me on weekends.

One such weekend, we decided to take a stroll round the streets near the Government House. We took off from the place of my primary assignment, the Federal Information Centre; bought corn beside the office, and started ‘blowing’ the ‘mouth organ’ as we strolled. We were too engrossed in our gist and the sweetness of the corn to note that some young boys were trailing us, praying that some leftovers of the corn would drop for them to scavenge. Somehow, the two of us dropped the corn cob almost simultaneously. We were more than taken aback by a commotion that erupted at our back. Four eight or nine year-olds had descended on the supposed leftovers and broken the corn cobs into pieces. I was again transfixed as if one was hit by an electric shock. Remember that feeling when you play with electric fish?

I was moved to tears as I had never ever seen a group of children scavenging on nothing as it were. I beckoned to the kids and offered them N20, which was the highest denomination at the time, and with some smattering Hausa words told them to go buy their own corn from the same place we got ours. As they left, heading to the corn seller, I couldn’t erase that ugly sight from my mind. Was it really possible that some people scavenge on nothing this way? I was later to see incidents of children swarming around restaurants and pouncing on near empty plates.

These incidents told me clearly that the North was a different place and that the life of the boy child is not only risky and endangered but sold to stagnation and deprivation, unless you are one of the lucky few.

Having benefited from the free education policy of the Unity Party of Nigeria (UPN) between 1979 and 1983, when the Second Republic was terminated, I knew that there is a lot the government can do in educating the children. In my secondary school days, I was the Library Prefect at one point, and so I saw an excess of books supplied by the government to our school. So, I was an example of the feasibility of free education. It was the same way the Action Group government had handled education in the years preceding Nigeria’s independence and the First Republic.

So why can’t the state governments in the North declare free and compulsory education for the young ones out there? Why should children be made to scavenge on empty corn cobs just to see if they can find pieces of seeds left over?

And why was my director giving drivers and gate men in the Government House false hope that they were all the same, instead of him to challenge them to seek to lift themselves up the social ladder?
I think there was no excuse for the North not to have adopted a free education policy, just as Chief Obafemi Awolowo did in the South-West. And if we say the North needs to look itself in the mirror, you again remember the efforts by President Goodluck Jonathan to educate the multitude of Northern children through the Almajiri Schools. That government built more than 400 of such schools, which were abandoned because it could upset the oligarchy. The oligarchs forgot the truism that the children of the poor they refuse to train today won’t let their children sleep peacefully.

But the governor of Borno State, Prof Babagana Zulum, appears to have got the message. Last week, I was thrilled to see him organise a summit to reform the Almajiri system.

The Almajiri education system is a traditional Islamic method of learning widely obtained across states in northern Nigeria. Through that system, which is tied to Islamic teaching, youths, especially boys are kept out of the formal western education system. I don’t know why the teachings by Islamic scholars cannot go alongside that of Western education as it obtains in Saudi Arabia, Iran, Iraq and other Islamic countries that are doing well economically and in the world of science, technology.
While addressing the summit, Zulum had mentioned the need to address the root causes of insecurity through the provision of education for citizens of Borno, adding that improper teaching of Islamic studies has contributed to the emergence of Boko Haram insurgents in the state.

According to him, to curtail whatever is the adverse effect of Almajiri education; the Borno State Government has established the Arabic and Sangaya Education Board to introduce a unified curriculum for Sangaya and Islamic schools. He said that the reform would include establishing Higher Islamic Colleges to cater for Almajiri children and blending the religious teachings with the secular curricula as well as skills.
He said: “The Sangaya Reform is a great development. It will give Almajiri a better chance in life, particularly the introduction of integrating western education, vocational, numeracy, and literacy skills into the centres, which are also described as Almajiri and Islamic schools.

“Distinguished guests and esteemed educationists, government’s intention was to streamline the informal and formal education systems to quality integrated Sangaya School for admission into colleges and universities.”

One would have thought that governors with radical postures like Nasir el-Rufai and others before him would have proposed this type of reform, but it is better late than never. Zulum should be supported to get something out of this.

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