THOUGHTS OF A CALABAR BOY

I keep asking myself the question of what informs decisions in the Nigerian leadership. Is it policy or politics? Policy obviously is rooted in an objective assessment of needs, adequately matched with existing resources to enforce changes that guarantee general welfare with minimal negative externalities. Politics on the other hand is a subject hijacked by personal or group interpretations of what and how public policy should be shaped. It’s result is usually a satisfaction of a given interest with minimum positive externalities to the welfare of the country. Time has always revealed the trajectories of politics and its implication for an evolving system like Nigeria and of all time with the examples of the last administration, we have seen how an entire nation can be systematically manipulated by the political hubris of a highly opinionated few with no substantiated national plan of action. Now we are at the verge of being subjected to another jungle system of decision making that makes our beloved country a blatant mockery in the international system.

It is very interesting how the leadership of Nigeria has just picked certain Ministers at the same time when the revered President Elect of the US is making his cabinet choices. I cannot but juxtapose the two events and compare the quality of choices made by both leaders. I will not get into the nitty gritty of the process, because the output tells the input and processes that go into decision making. The day you see mango fruits growing on on a tree with orange leaves, then there should be much concerns. But till when we see such a tweak, you only know a tree by the fruit it bears, and the choices we have seen in this Nigerian cabinet, tells us of the quality of thinking that went into the mechanism of selecting the cabinet. While I am in no way castigating the government for the quality of its choices, as I believe they must be capable in one form or the other, I want to strongly raise an issue regarding the appointment of Dora Akunyili as Minister for Information and Communications.

When I look through Obama’s choices for his cabinet members, I rarely can find an overt political influence in those selected. These men are proven and certified leaders in the field they have been chosen to operate in. Consider his choice of Steven Chu, a respected Nobel prize winner in Physics, to be his Energy Secretary. Doesn’t that tell you of his sincerity to move that aspect of his economy forward. Behold Dora! Catapulted from Keeping our Drugs and Food safe to being the spokesperson and image launderer for the country. The whole world knew of Dora when she served in assigned duty successfully, backed with a thorough understanding of what her assignment was, being a Pharmacist. Now we have carried a Pharmacist and given her the role of a Public Relations expert and we expect that she will function with the exact creativity and innovation she dispersed in her former dominion? Absolutely foolhardy. While I do not doubt her intelligence and ability to adapt to any role she is assigned, I dare to say that we have shortchanged our national destiny by denying her the role of the Minister of Health. 

Today the Nigerian Union of Journalists rejected the appointment of the poor woman claiming that it is a show of “the usual disdain with which politicians perceive the media.” I am expecting the National Assembly of Nigeria to turn down this appointment and the other mismatches and do the right thing, based on the recommendations of well meaning citizens. In the 21st century we are still plugging in round in round pegs in square holes and hoping the round peg will assume the shape of its host. Ridiculous! In any case, I expect Dora herself to be sensible and be wise by turning down anything that will take the shine of her escutcheon. She has a worthy example in Okonjo-Iweala who threw in her towel after the Obasanjo administration tried to frustrate her by flinging her into the External Affairs Ministry. 

Dora is not the only one ohhh!! Let me show you a few more. Shettima Mustapha, an Agronomist is made Minister of Defence. To do what, grow Missiles? Nuhu Somo Way, an Architect now Minister of State for Power. To do what, design Power Plants? Ibrahim Bio, a trained Pharmacist is Minister of State for Transport. To do what, prescribe drugs to out vehicles? I am feeling tired already going through all this. When is our country going to put aside politics and let policy be the reason for taking decisions. Our institutions are failing for lack of effective leadership to steer the wheels. We all saw what this can produce when Dora did what she knows best. We saw what Duke did with tourism, yet we don’t know if the man with the most ambitious tourism project, for which he was largely successful, was ever contacted to handle the Tourism Ministry. We are tired of being used as experimental pigs in the laboratory of party crassness. I remain of the opinion that we need to unclothe Nigeria, give her a thorough bath before we choose what to clothe her with. As for some of these present national designers, they have run out of ideas, if they ever had one.

And come to think of it. The office of Information and Communication requires that the holder possess some level of oratory finesse and diplomacy in conversation. I have heard Dora speak and reason and admire her intelligence, but for the above….. all I can say is… hmmmmmmm!!!

I didn’t grow up with my father most of my youth. This was a plus and also a minus in its own way. Constructing my world view from the protective arms of my mother did create a series of didactic thought processes in me, one of which is instant judgment. This was in direct contradiction to my dad who had a knack for delayed judgment. Here I was sandwiched between the impulsiveness of a entrepreneurial woman, and the pragmatism of a legal analyst… and I was supposed to make safe sense out of life, and carve out a personality through which I could interface with my world. I could imagine the genes floating around me and struggling for relevance and dominance, an I wished I could scan them thoroughly and choose which is vital to success and every point in time. Impacting on me was also the presence of an older cousin and an older brother both of whom I read inside out and saw where to and where not to go and what to and what not to say… (although I did taste the waters sometimes and admittedly, some were sweet with a bitter after taste). My childhood was filled with inner deliberations and attempts at creating what was to be called my world, and also the possibilities of recruiting humans into my predefined parameters of living.

My dad however, far he always was, seemed to be my balancing factor; more like an exogenous treatment to the experiment I was conducting. I sometime wanted to beef him for being so far, but again his absence increased his worth to me and every time I saw him his words were laden with depth that I so longed to hear each day. I said to myself when he was around: “this is my start point, not my end point”. To me he knew everything and faltered in none. He approached every issue with maximum attention inputing highly cerebral calculations to the unknown to arrive at rationality and common sense. I was awestruck each time he spoke and knew then that I wouldn’t outgrow this man because I let every word sink in like a boulder in a calm stream, assuming a significant space in my mind. Even when my days of rebellion came, I still trod softly because I couldn’t deny the markings of his grip on me.

I here forthwith want to share seven vital lessons I learned from my father. Some of them he said verbatim to me, while some I drew out of his parabolic nature and I can’t get over the effect they have had on me. Through him I learned to understand what a man says and what the man did not say. Because every word spoken has implications for what it is and what it isn’t. Therefore when he spoke I understood, but when he didn’t speak, I even understood more. These seven lessons are more than the material wealth he left behind for his children and I wish he could have willed even more of his mind to me. I proceed with careful assertion to retain and preserve the originality of his mind communicated in this discourse.

1. Absolute fear for nothing. This was my baptism into boldness. As most of my friends know, I proceeded from there into the realms of stupid arrogance and at worse I described myself as a jingoist of self confidence. The older I grew the more I came to understand from my conversation with him, that absolute fearlessness ended in God. He said to me in Efik: “Eyen kpono Abasi!!”", meaning – son, revere God!!!. For a man who feared nothing to ask me in his old age to fear God, trust me, I need not much further counsel. He showed me that nothing is as it appears. Only God is true to his form. Every other thing has a form which it takes on to create respect in others, and for which I must learn to see beyond what they appear to be. It was when I knew this that my ‘baloonish’ pride was pricked and I sheathed my arrogance to take on stronger challenges rather than personalities.

2. Circumspection. Applied as being prudent and cautious in every facet of life. This warning to me arose because of my tendency for extreme passion in whatever I lay my hands to do. He saw this in me and chided me for a blind characterization of what I then called faith. Initially I branded him a persecutor and a Pharisee, but as I negotiated the corners of life and reflected more on the essence of the Almighty in my life, I found a pillow in his counsel and knew for sure that for everything I think I know, therein lies the claim that I do not know. Hence, whatever lies in my hands to do execute, I always learn to flip the other side and my perspective will dramatically take a turn and my understanding becomes better. Circumspection is one of the trailing residues of wise initiatives.

3. Discretion is the better part of Valour. Hmmm…in this case, I couldn’t agree more as I saw many mighty men fall not for failing power, but for a lack of discretion. While valour accounts for a tenth of an accomplishment, the 90% success rate is determined by discretion. Discretion is the trait of judging wisely and objectively, and also learning to put aside what your perceived strengths are and allowing the seeming weaker parts have a say in your goings. He said to me Reginald, “Discretion distinguishes Kings and their subjects, for every time you follow its path, you sit at the Kings’ table.” “Mere men rely on energy, that’s why they must eat all the time and feed their lusts and ambitions to protect a future that is not subject to their preferences and references, and while doing this, they inflict much pain of themselves, their children and society.” Amazing lines of thought did I pluck from his mental plantation. Today and ever so true, I cannot recover from how much these words have guided me and given me an edge over my adversaries.

4. History repeats itself because we are all fools. I learnt from him that the mistakes we see men make, is a pointer to their ignorance of history. History is the hidden stories that are cocooned by time to be hidden from fools, but to be cracked by the wise for the security of their of their generations. As he admonishes me to fear God, he still yells to me “Look at history!!!!” Everything repeats itself, but clothed in the intricacies of the present time. This is why you must have a sense of delayed judgment, for time reveals more of a matter and with such you can skip the hurdles of erroneous choices. He said once to me, “if you make my mistakes, then you are a fool.” That line resounded continuously in my head like a clashing cymbal and today I draw lessons not just from the past, but from the happenings of today, because they will be the references of tomorrow either for sorrow, or for victory.

5. What you live in others, outlives you. I saw in my father a man absolutely committed to the well being of every one around him. He listened to everyone and advised anyone who cared to listen. He spoke his heart out and went the extra mile to satisfy the need of those who were needy. I saw that largeness of heart is a rare gift which one is born with, however can be cultivated when you have respect unto the existence of others. I saw how frustrated he was when he knew something was beyond his power to change and how active he was when he could do something about it. I saw him argue to help people correct their perspective about life hoping they wouldn’t leave his presence the same way they came in. He did all he can, with what he had and the influence he could muster to alter the course of failure for a person. I remember when I was not doing well in my secondary school classes, he saw me and said to me you are more than this. He never said another word about it. That was was too hot for me to handle. I slapped myself back to reality and jerked my mind to life. He left something in me no doubt.

6. Ambidextrous. This describes individuals who are equally capable of performing tasks with the right or left side of their bodies. He was a soccer fan and a left winger himself in his younger days. He could play with both legs and write with both hands comfortably. His writing with both hands was particularly striking to me. I remember when I decided that I was going to practice writing with my left hand. I wouldn’t say how successful I did, but I will say that beyond the practical reality of his capability, was what this meant to me. He was both logical and poetic, mechanical and artistic; a microcosm of the human personality. I am too confident that it is possible to be ambidextrous in life, leaving no area of frailty. A total man, loving and taming, cultivating and uprooting, stroking and striking, being something in everything to everything while lacking in no faculty in life.

7. Stay strong till you die. A few days before he died, he was still encouraging me that everything will be just fine, displaying high self worth and self confidence, even when at the mercy of the doctors. His voice showed no signs of an ending life, as he still spoke of what work he has to do. He remained relevant to life, thinking through solutions he wanted to see through for his people and how he wanted to empower them with education. His bones, mind and spirit were sound and without injury, telling me how excited he was at Obama’s victory and wishing he could shake the young man’s hand. A few days before he went home, we were still discussing a book he was reading on the emergence of India and China in global economics, and sharing with me the trajectory which he thinks international productive processes will take. He lived till he died. He didn’t wither nor wane, falter or fumble, he simply stayed the course and finished strong. I must finish strong.

I now understand why some people do not die, they simply transit from one plane to another. My father didn’t die, he simply emptied himself of the matters of this plane, and assumed another dimension of relevance. Therefore, I say to myself that where his feet didn’t tread, mine will. Who his hands didn’t touch, mine will. Where his voice wasn’t heard, mine will. What his eyes couldn’t see, mine will. What he couldn’t comprehend, I will. Where he didn’t sit I will, and where he couldn’t stand, I will. For I choose this day to be the extension of your life, to repaint and recolour the paragon you intended, and to give a true definition to the legacy you attempted to build. For now I understand that some plant, others water, But God is ever ready to give and increase. I am am your waterer.

To my mentor and my instructor…..keep living!