Ubuntu, not yet in South Africa?

Johannesburg—Moe was always loud and jovial when you spoke to him on phone. He would tell you jokes and stories that would make you laugh until tears oiled your face. But, today, hisvoice reeked of fear; there was no joke today, and, today's story was about deaths and hatred. 

 

His friend, in Durban, South Africa, just escaped the jaws of death by a whisker, he retorted with a low tone, as if the use of words was now a hard chore. Since 14th of April 2015, some South African locals have been targeting foreigners—mostly immigrants from Nigeria, Somalia, Malawi, Zimbabwe and Ethiopia—around the city of Durban. Moe fears that this tsunami of hate might flow to Johannesburg and, more importantly, he is worried about the safety of his two boys, who, ironically, have a South African mother. 

 

​The manifold upheavals of xenophobia in South Africa are insane and unfathomable and stems from the other side of humane—bestiality. According to reports, more than five people have been killed in the wake of the attacks, over a thousand have fled their homes and some foreigners have promised to fight back. This is another crest of barbarism on humanity and a shameful display of irrational actions.

 

The recent upheaval, it was reported, started after one Zulu King Goodwill Zwelithini announced that foreigners in South Africa should "pack their bags and leave". His remarks birthed a spate of xenophobic nuisance. This nuisance is often cloaked with silly excuses—immigrants steal jobs and opportunities and foreigners live illegally on "our" lands. Therefore, the solution is usually to harm another human being. 

 

Most reasonable South Africans, however, have blasted their Zulu's puerile comments and have, invariably, taken to the streets to fight against hate. BBC reports that over ten thousand South Africans marched in protest against the xenophobic attacks. They have also taken their peaceful protest to social media with hash tags: #notinourname #peacemarch and #africaunite 

 

These hash tags serve as a rude reminder that peace and unity in Africa and the world, needs to be preached consistently. It also points to another chilling reality that Africa still suffers from division and what is often called black-on-black-hate.

 

Then the question remains: how long shall we, Africans, continue this long walk on the street of Division? 

 

Mandela once said that it was not enough to cast off one's chains of slavery; he advised that Africans live in a way that enhances the freedom of others. It seems strange and surprising that the whole idea of promoting freedom has taken a walk out of the minds of certain individuals. 

 

The President of South Africa, Jacob Zuma, condemning the attacks, said: "we therefore urge our people to treat those who are in our country legally with respect and Ubuntu". The statement, indeed, had to be released by the president but begs a big question: what or who represents "our people"? 

 

In Europe, Africans battle against racism daily. To bear it in Africa is both devastating and disgusting. 

 

For many Africans living in South Africa, Ubuntu is not yet in South Africa. It is, in fact, non-existent. Moe ended his conversation with a cogentquestion: "why is the black man like this?" 

 

I argued that hate is not a black thing. It is a human thing. However, we can learn to burn hate with love; we can, as humans, heal the sickness of hate with the balm of love.

Writer: Michael Irene

Please, follow me on Twitter: @moshoke

Email: moshoke@yahoo.com

There's an Akiolu in Most Nigerians.

Rilwan Akiolu, the Oba of Lagos, some days ago, released  a river of tribalistic diatribes and Nigerians, mostly Igbos, are wallowing deeply in his rather misplaced words. Threatening the Igbos, and commanding them to vote for a particular candidate in the upcoming gubernatorial elections in Lagos state,  is indeed a slap on Nigeria's democracy. It must be stated, however, that Akiolu does not own Lagos and Lagosians or any human being.

His speech, if anything, reeks of tribalism and stems from it. He is, however,  not the only tribalistic individual in Nigeria. It is, in fact, a Nigerian thing. There is an Akiolu in all of us. 

When, in 2008, working for a particular bank in Lagos, I applied for a promotion, my boss said: "you are not in the right caucus in this bank, so you can't change your levels." His caucus was filled with Yorubas only.  In another department there were mainly Igbos, they had created their own sect too, which I was not fit enough to join. 

Another boss, in another department, like Al Pacino in Donnie Brasco, told me to "forget about it." Everything was based on tribe or "where are you from: Igbo, Hausa or Yoruba?"

True to my boss's word, my levels didn't change. I was a bad lottery ticket in the tribal scheme of things in that bank. I left with a sad memory. I was not fit for any of the groups. Or, maybe, just maybe, I sucked at licking tribal asses. 

I'm from Edo state, Nigeria. I'm always placed somewhere between been a Yoruba or an Igbo man. That identity didn't help me in my short banking career. It only helped open my eyes to the truth that Nigeria, as a country, is dangerously divided on tribal lines. 

Oba Akiolu's embarrassing treatise is only a reiteration of the known fact. Ethnic jingoism is a rhythm that afflicts Nigeria and Nigerians. Ask anybody who works in any Nigerian company and that person would tell you of the monstrous existence of tribalism. 

Hypocritically, we claim that we are "One Nigeria" but deep down most Nigerians would, when doing a favour for another Nigerian, consider the person's ethnic background. Why can't we consider the person as a human being? It is this type of embedded divide that created the likes of Oba Akiolu and his ilk. He even had the chutzpah to say that whoever doesn't do his bidding would end up in the river. That's what Nigeria raises: humans with disturbed minds. 

Our democracy is a toddler. Toddlers need helping hands as they grow older, and most importantly, any obstacle that might alter their growth must be dealt with. Akiolu should be taken to court and charged for threatening the peace in Nigeria.

It is very easy to join the bandwagon and support the chastised Igbos. The words spewed by the Oba is indeed unethical and tyrannical at the same time. But, we must look beyond his folly and begin to examine the titular issue--ethnicity in Nigeria. In addition, this should create a platform for debates about the  problems of ethnicity in Nigeria. 

Why can't Nigerians see each other as one? Where is this so-called one voice/country?

 Akiolu is perhaps particularly rich in these verbal derivatives, but similar formations could be sited in many or a majority of Nigerians. 

This is a wake up call for Nigerians and until we jettison this tribal river, the flotsam and jetsam of tribalism would be Nigeria's death and division. 

God bless Nigeria. 

Michael Irene

@moshoke

moshoke@yahoo.com

Conductor, give me my change!

He invented a face for himself.

                                                Behind it,

He lived, died, and resurrected,

        Many times.

                                    His face today

        Has the wrinkles of that face.     

        His wrinkles have no face.

–Octavio Paz

The bus: more than forty years old: tired but still moving: moving but not reaching: reaching but not knowing: knowing but not reaching. The bus’ face has been drenched by the sun and dried by the rain. No colour.

Some years ago, bus was released from a white garage. The owner, who was not the owner, bought many spare parts from Ladipo Market, to make the bus complete. Bus was not complete but owner put it on the road. Owner employed his own driver but didn’t give the driver any destination. Driver jumped into the bus, started the engine, drove off and is still driving now.

Driver employed a conductor. Conductor screamed. Passengers boarded bus.

The eighteen-seater bus accommodated a thousand people. Men, women, children, broke in, unstoppable. Thousands and more thousands. Already beating a retreat, driver sets fire to a part of the bus. The passengers won’t take it; no, some took it. They fall on the wayside. The City of Us, cradle and throne of passengers, became a giant bonfire among three sets of volcanic passengers.

The owner, who has never been wounded in the back, turns away from the soaring flames. There are tears in his eyes, from the smoke, but he smiles.

Fate awarded the bus another Driver who drove the bus to a land where gold and silver abound. Gold and silver flowed up to the heavens and the Driver locked the passengers in the bus and called the owner. The owner called his friends and they flew into the area. Here, where the river gets mad and boils up in eddies and whirlpools, the owner brought in another strategy to keep the bus moving while he galloped back and forth bringing advice for the Driver and his passengers.

            The conductor screamed. Destination: it has always been the same. The passengers multiplied and their language died. The conductor began to collect the fare.

            The passengers, as soon as they saw the conductor asking for more money, sat up, waved their hands to the conductor and started making something like a speech on materialism. The conductor sat stupefied, and scarcely had the heart not to ask for his money. Some passengers paid and others paid with noise.

            The uproar morphed into a monster. The conductor brought out his Peacemaker and shot one passenger in the head and another in the chest. The driver laughed at how his conductor handled passengers. Driver stopped, conductor dropped the passengers and commanded the driver to move on.

            Driver refused. Conductor shot driver. Conductor became driver.

            Passengers opened their mouth. Now, they realised that they’ve been caught in the hunter’s nets and are marching to a place, tied to each other at the neck, as the roads sing into their ears.

            Conductor used to be many things. Backstory: conductor, it was rumoured, used to be a snake, then turned into a bat, then turned into a tortoise. It was while he was a tortoise that he learnt how to be a human being. When he became a human being, he decided to drive the bus.

            Now, he is a driver and a conductor: driving and asking for his fare. He removed the rear-view mirror because he didn’t want to see what was happening in the back. He was looking forward. He kept asking for his money and kept receiving it.

            One of the passengers produced a type of money that has not been spent before. It was bigger than what other passengers had been paying. When he passed it to the front, the driver cum conductor looked at the money and put it in his regalia. The driver, formerly a conductor, sped up, as if the new currency would lead him to the destination that was not a destination. Distraction flowed into his head when the passenger said: “Conductor, give me my change!”

            In the centre of the road, the driver stopped the bus, watched his left and right then crossed to other side. The passengers watched. The new driver, suffocated by those heavy words, ran away. He never returned.

            A child climbed unto the driver seat, started the bus, and began to drive.

Michael Irene

@moshoke

moshoke@yahoo.com

Goodluck Ebele Jonathan: A hero?

Following Goodluck Ebele Jonathan’s concession to defeat after the Nigerian presidential elections, on 28^th March 2015, many, especially Nigerians, have quickly described his actions as heroic. They concluded— that he is a hero—albeit without constructive analysis of the term, hero.  One could argue that his actions were not heroic but a mere appendage of what is expected in any democracy.

Thus, to understand why GEJ’s action is not heroic, it is pertinent to repose the question: “who is a hero?” Jonathan Turner, a reputable sociologist, argues that a “hero is a person of distinguished courage of ability, admired for brave deeds”. The hero’s deed must have been an accumulation of brave deeds and not a brush stroke of one reasonable act. There is much more than bravery and ability to being a hero. The hero role is differentiated out in terms of an image and what the hero represents.

Having understood the basic features of a hero, and relating it to the just concluded Nigerian elections, who, really is the hero? Was it the president who conceded to defeat? Or the people who, with one voice, came together to ensure that democracy came to play?

The people, over the years, have witnessed a malicious mutilation of their collective existence. The political elites in Nigeria, if anything, consistently push the people to the edge of non-existence. They see the people as mere pawns on their board of power. Through bravery, however, the people spoke and in unison, fought for a new phase.

Many argue that the singular fact that GEJ has not stubbornly held on to power is a heroic deed. How can that be? Without international admonition, would he have displayed this supposed heroic feat?  True, he would be remembered in the future, as the first democratic president in Nigeria to admit defeat but that is not a heroic feat.  Misconstruing the definition of the term or tying it to a president who displayed diplomacy, is not only hypocritical but also shows how quickly Nigerians heighten quotidian qualities.

GEJ scoffed his chance to be a real hero. Since it was impossible for him to be wise as a president, he may as well try to afterwards.

It is also true that many African leaders cling unto power as if their life depended on it. They add flavour to the oft-used phrase: “absolute power corrupts absolutely”. Ours, however, deflated that phrase with his act.

GEJ understands democratic practises, at least, to an extent. He knows that if you lose, you bow out gracefully. He has shown that, that’s how it is done. His understanding goes to show that he is conversant with what is expected in a democratic disposition. Are we to conclude, then, that a man who shows understanding of a system of government is heroic?

It seems most Nigerians forgive quickly. Again, the president had so many chances to show bravery but he allowed it to slide. First, the Chibok issue would have been a fantastic avenue for him to display his bravery. Second and the most obvious, would have been the fight against the insurgent group, boko haram; if he had tackled this group from the beginning, his name would have gained a glowing space in the minds of many Nigerians.

Then again, the use of the term “hero” means different things to different people. To some, GEJ is a their hero! To some, he is not. Hell, Hitler was a hero to many people even as he gassed humans daily.

The people, truth be told, are the real heroes. Kudos to them! However, the journey to a collective freedom is far.

Michael Irene

@moshoke

moshoke@yahoo.com

Na Only You Waka Come and other Nigerian Democratic Lies

‘Dad, no, no, I want to become a Nigerian president when I grow up.’

‘Why? What happened to…’

‘No. I have changed my mind. I want to be a historical figure too.’

‘Not bad. Not bad. Let’s be realistic, you’re from a minority tribe and it’s going to be very hard.’

‘I’m going to try, dad. I believe my country has changed. History would record me too.’

‘I don’t understand your talk.’

‘Dad, didn’t you see history, yesterday?’

‘Which history?’

‘The incumbent president conceded to defeat. He is my hero. What a gentleman.’

‘Shut your trap! There were four heroes, yesterday. The important ones, the very important ones, the very very important ones and the very most important ones.”

‘Dad, you know your eyes sees further. Tell me about these heroes.’

‘Let me start with the very most important ones. They are the ones who went out of their way to vote. The ones who believed that they had a voice and believed their voice could make a difference.’

‘People, like you and I?’

‘Did I vote? I was just a fence sitter like those bloody Nigerian diasporans who would gallop from one online fence to the other to blow big grammar and never act. I’m not a hero. People like you who voted are the real heroes.

‘Thank you, dad. So, who are the very very important ones?”

‘Jega.’

‘What did he do? I can’t seem to understand why you would categorise him as one.’

‘You’re a real child. A real Godsday Orubebe! How can you open your dirty mouth to mouth such nonsense?’

‘I’m sorry, dad, but I don’t see what he did.’

‘May the gods that cursed Orubebe’s anus not visit you. Did you see Jega’s calmness in the midst of hyenas? Did you see how he foxed his way out of the cacophony brought to him by different elements? Did you see how he handled those professors of nothingness? He is a true hero. As a matter of fact, without him, the eye of democracy would have been blinded. Sai Jega!’

‘What about GEJ?’

‘What about him?’

‘Is he not a hero?’

‘How?’

‘He showed good sportsmanship. He behaved like a gallant man.’

‘What else should he have done? And, how does that make him a hero?’

‘Dad, just admit it. He tried.’

‘He is not a hero. He did his job. Period. Please, go and sit down and analyse it properly. All those smelly mouth calling him a hero should go and sit down too!’

‘So who is the very important one?’

‘Dame Patience Goodluck.’

‘Dad, you must be joking.’

‘If you have a third eye, you will see why I chose her as my hero. She entertained Nigerians with her theatrics. Everywhere she went there were many boys and girls chanting and repeating her quotable quotes. No first lady in the history of Nigeria would ever, I mean ever, have many memorable quotes like this woman. I love her. She is my hero. Even the president couldn’t leave any quote for us to remember him by.’

‘Dad, I can’t believe you are calling her a hero.’

‘What do you know. Go and think about it and thank me later.’

‘The last one?’

‘Ehmm, I can’t remember…’

‘But, dad, I really want to be a president. Look at how Buhari was praised. Even his rise to the throne is a motivational story.’

‘You think Buhari is the president elect? You make me laugh.’

‘Dad!’

‘Now, here is my advice to you my son. What I really want for you to become is a godfather.’

‘A godfather?’

‘Yes. A political  godfather.’

‘Like Tinubu, Obasanjo or IBB?’

‘Yes.’

‘That’s a very hard one.’

‘How is it hard?’

‘You must have money and influence and network.’

‘Son, let me tell you those are the presidents that Nigerians keep voting for. They are the real ones that run the country. Leave all those ones running around campaigning and winning votes. Now, when Tinubu sneezes, Buhari would catch a cold. That, my son, is power.’

‘How can I attain this, dad?’

‘There are three ingredients that you must put in your pot: number one, you must know how to be a good liar.’

‘Really.’

‘A very good liar.’

‘You must know how to gather touts around yourself.’

‘What do I need touts for?’

‘You need dogs that would do your dirty work for you. You don’t want people to tie your name to nonsense.’

‘That makes sense.’

‘You must learn to be like a chameleon.’

‘Dad, how can I learn to be like an animal?’

‘Look at you. You must learn to be like an animal in Nigeria for you to understand the minds of certain Nigerians. As a matter of fact, if you don’t learn to be like a chameleon, your life might be in danger.’

‘I must learn that.’

‘That’s what GEJ did not learn. He allowed chickens like Abati, Fayose and others to shout his praise. He didn’t study how the opposition did it.’

‘Dad, I have heard you.’

‘I would probably start preparing. I would start with Lagos state.’

‘Look at this foolish boy, are you from Lagos?’

‘No.’

‘Better know where to place your eggs.’

‘I believe in Nigeria’s democracy and I will start from Lagos, dad.’

‘My son, na only you waka come.’


Michael Irene

@moshoke

moshoke@yahoo.com