PROLOGUE
Rivers State is the type of costly price you pay for godfatherism. A godfather operates absolutely and ultimately. He crushes whatever obstructs him.
His is operation no mercy. Stubborn and daring, he matches on ruthlessly. If he catches you he kills. If he cannot, he cuts your heels. Either way, he makes sure he inflicts severe injuries on you. The reason he’s ever ferocious, fierce and brutal. And he goes for the worst.
Rivers State played to the gallery. It first fell prey. Eventually on Tuesday night, it became the victim. By “civilian” fiat! Courtesy; President Bola Tinubu’s heavy axe, aka, state of emergency.
This column was already “cooked and done.” Written before the darkness enveloped Rivers. Of course, its contents therein stand the hard test of our eerie time.
Please, read this piece with the debacle in Rivers State at the back of your innocent mind. It’s the reason for bothering you with this short prologue:
Since ages past, from generations to generations. Times and seasons happen to empires, kingdoms, fiefdoms, dynasties, et al. And deal decisively with them. As it was in the beginning. It is now. And so it will be forever.
Ruins of famous, ancient empires, kingdoms are all around us. Each nation has a fair share of its own. They dot every corner, nook and cranny. Including the remotest parts.
They once flourished, blossomed in their seasons. And when their times were up. No matter how thriving, prospering, festering they pretended to be. They faded away with their accompanied dynasties.
They have to submit to history. They have no viable choice. They just must become a past tense. And in due season too.
Nothing lasts forever. Dynasties, fiefdom are no exceptions. Only sages live in the hearts of men. Their good deeds remain evergreen, spotless, unblemished.
Our politicians of small minds can’t learn from our past. They derive their energy, power and vigour from godfatherism. That’s where their ultimate joy resides. It’s the backbone of their weird strength. They feast on it with relish.
In fact, it’s the real reason they’re relevant. Without godfatherism, they’re useless, lifeless; life is horrible. It is godfatherism or nothing. See how they are recklessly erecting their empires, dynasties on nothingness. What a feigned nation of festering dynasties and fiefdoms!
Surprisingly! They are easily deceived and effortlessly carried away. They lack depth and deep understanding. Selfishness has taken the best part of their existence.
In the real sense. They can’t think out of their choked box. They forget godfatherism is acutely short-lived. Your godfatherism can only last as long as you can breathe.
If your breath ceases, your tenure ends the same second. None of your children can inherit it. It’s beyond them. Godfatherism is not an inheritance. Not a heritage either. Ask the Adedibus, the Sarakis.
Check us out. We were never like this. Our sweet history bears us out favourably. The years of early 1950s and early 1960s were particularly golden. Yes, it lasted barely a decade. It was pleasant to behold.
We still testify with nostalgia. The era we were truly and proudly Nigeria. Those days remain the best part of our collective existence as a nation state. Unarguably too!
Then, birds were singing like birds. Round pegs were deliberately put in their round holes. It was a genuine intention. Nothing missing, nothing broken.
Flourishing healthy competition ruled our waves. The tripod regions, West, East and North, did showcase the quality stuffs they were made of. Strict adherence to discipline made this happen. Mid-West was a latecomer in 1963.
The indomitable leadership of Obafemi Awolowo, Nnamdi Azikiwe and Ahmadu Bello propelled this. They steered the country in the right direction. This was exceptionally glaring between 1952 and 1959.
Tragically. Those very characters who witnessed our best of times. Those who enjoyed to maximum our years of yore. Are the same species. Pulling down the institutions that used to sustain us. The establishments that made them. The institutions they benefitted greatly from. What wickedness!
They’re rubbishing our norms. Bastardising our values. And messing up all over big time. They can’t walk their talk for once. Only given to sweet talk. Mesmerising innocent souls into submission.
Grandstanding is the tactic. They have moved from leaders to dealers. They perceive government as the largest enterprise. They have derailed in all departments and directions.
What a leopard couldn’t do. These rulers did with seamless easy. We never knew our rulers could change their spots so smoothly. We thought they were selfless. We goofed. Albinitio! They had their ulterior motives close to their fleshy chests.
They are not what they professed to be. They are wired for ambiguities, frivolities, trivialities. Zik, Awo and Sardauna were not. They wouldn’t pretend their intentions. They remained faithful to their followers. And held them in quality esteem. No deceit.
None of them built personal empire for himself or his offspring. From their good deeds, sprang their dynasties. The trio still live in our hearts; West, East and North.
The exact opposite are our present crop of rulers. They scout for hangers-on, boot-lickers, do-gooders. They tutor them as mentees; impose themselves on them as godfathers. And unleash them on us at will.
That’s how they build and run their “empires and dynasties.” In the process, they ruin us. The consequence is the muddle playing out to our face currently. The reason they have the gumption to slam us this:
“The first daughter of Nasarawa State welcomes the first son of Nigeria to Nasarawa State.” This came straight from the heart of “Her Excellency,” Hussaina A. A. Sule, founder, Asmau & Hassan Foundation, the first daughter. To Seyi Tinubu, Patron, City Boy Movement, the first son. Whatever sense that makes to them.
Nauseating and disgusting! How dare you Hussaina! This is the highest height of insult and assault on our psych. Seyi did honour the dishonourable invitation. And it was a grand reception for him and his entourage.
These emerging emperors, godfathers, dynasties baffle one. Simple parental role, they can’t perform. They fail to put their spoilt adult children in check. They are not firm enough on their kids. How can they be firm in governance?
Come to think of it. Is it their fault? They saw a loophole. They explored and exploited it. It bore them fruit. They grabbed it. And they are running with it ever since.
We are so docile. The moment we caved in. And tolerated their “first lady,” we should expect to be messed up this despicable way. Their first lady has no place in our constitution. But it features prominently in their yearly budget allocations. No fuss about that!
These shenanigans must come to an end. They have smothered us enough. They bluntly refuse to let go our saturated space. They’re not in any way ready to depart from us. Not in the farthest future. Instead, they are souring and decaying.
Holding us tightly in our skinny and bony jugular. Overwhelmingly crushing. We are always pushed to the edge miserably. They care less if our ox is gored. Or brutally bruised in the process.
Times and seasons are not on their side. Tinubu’s once thriving Lagos empire is in shambles. That highly lucrative enterprise is crumbling. It’s facing challenges of existence. It’s all about change. And no sane emperor would want to tolerate that. Tinubu inclusive.
The fire on the mountain forced him to abandon national matters. He opted for his beloved Lagos empire. That is his first love. It’s the staircase he climbed to Aso Rock.
It occupies prime place in his heart. Tinubu is Lagos and Lagos is Tinubu. See the speed his shareholders and stakeholders assembled in Aso Rock.
That speaks volumes of Tinubu’s mind-set. His thoughts on Lagos are unambiguous. Nobody touches or toys with Lagos. He will roast such mortal. He has demonstrated that several times over.
Emerging Rivers empire can go to blazes for all he cares. But not Lagos. Rivers empire is still struggling to find its bearings. Lagos is not. It’s firmly under the tight grip of the emperor.
Lagos has come through a long way. It has been a far distance journey. A short recap will be rewarding here, perhaps.
Lagos fell to the greedy British colonialists on August 6, 1861. The obnoxious Lagos Treaty of Cession made it happen. Their Royal Navy had earlier bombarded Lagos in November 1851.
It violently threw out “the pro-slavery Oba Kosoko and installing Oba Akitoye, who, was more amenable to British interests.”
Then, the narratives changed and sped up. Lagos was declared a colony on March 5, 1862. Between 1866 and 1874, it was governed from far away Sierra Leone. In 1874, it was brought nearer home. It became part of the Gold Coast colony, the present day Ghana.
That lasted till 1886. Fast forward. At independence on October 1, 1960. Lagos was made Federal Capital of Nigeria. It got an added cap on May 27, 1967. It became state capital for Lagos.
In 1976, General Murtala Muhammed mulled the idea of stripping Lagos of its Federal Capital status. That turned a stark reality 20 years after. The year General Ibrahim Banbangida moved the capital to Abuja.
You now know where Lagos is coming from. It has been a tortuous trip. That’s the Lagos handed over to Tinubu on May 29, 1999. Leaving office eight years after. He claimed he ” built” it. Lousy claims are ridiculously cheap.
He didn’t stop at that. He walked his claim. He subsequently acquired it. And inherited it till date. That is the crux of the crisis in the Lagos State House of Assembly. That’s the engine room of Lagos empire.
You would want to ponder, agonise aloud. The country pretends in ignorance. And dwells richly in falsity. What a rare combination of absurdity and asininity.
In all of this, it still rates itself high. Priding to be “Giant of Africa.” It’s intoxicated with hallucination, diluted with delusion. The results are quite devastating: Illusion, self-deception and fool’s paradise.
That’s where we are today! We won’t stop building castles in the air. To complicate our confused situation. Our maximum rulers intentionally make messier our messy matters.
These characters are possessed by strange spirits. And they behave in such manner. The bill fits us perfectly well. From top-to-bottom. It couldn’t have been otherwise. We are a country like no any other. A nation of festering empires, dynasties and fiefdoms.
Empires rise and fall. But you can still feel their “leftovers.” They serve as reminders that they once existed. Godfathers are not. They fade away the same very brutal way they happen to us.
Your “godfatherism” tenure goes down with you. It collapses the minute you expire. True and the truth! So? The earliest you dump that garb, “god,” in you and hang on to “fatherism.”
You can only play tin god. You dare not attempt to play God!
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