Opinion

Is #EndSARS Nigeria’s Tipping Point?

Published

4 years ago

October 18, 2020

By SimonKolawole

The youth uprising against police brutality in Nigeria has taken many by surprise. Conventional wisdom is that the youth are more likely to dance at a concert than sing a protest song. Events of the last couple of weeks have altered this narrative as youthful Nigerians have taken to the streets in a vigorous campaign to shoot down police brutality, with the notoriety of the special anti-robbery squad (SARS) serving as the trigger — no pun intended. With the help of the hash tag, #EndSARS, the agitations have gained international attention. And the government has seen that this is not business as usual. Are we finally at the tipping point in the battle for the soul of Nigeria?

While the protests have, in the main, been about police brutality, interpreting them purely as such would be a massive mistake. We would be making a mistake if we focus on the fact that other interests, especially political, have seized the opportunity to fuel the fire. We would be erring by looking only at the disruptions being created all over by protesters who have refused to yield an inch despite their demands being met by the government. We would be missing the point if we focus too much on the fact that even the yahoo boys are eager to see the end of SARS, which itself grooms and harbours a legion of police officers that are yahoo boys and robbers by nature.

For sure, every struggle has its own opportunists. All kinds of characters will jump on the bandwagon to pursue their own agenda. That’s the way life goes. We have to look beyond that. My reading of the real situation is that there is something deeper going on out there. Deeper than SARS. Deeper than SWAT. Deeper than police brutality. What we have in our hands is the unloading of pent-up anger, frustration and resentment by Nigerians — with the youth leading the line. The SARS situation is what Yoruba would describe as “ara ran bombu l’owo” — that is… now I don’t know how to interpret that. Let me just say: “A thunder strike has helped detonate a bomb.”

In 1988, when I was a student of Kwara State Polytechnic where I studied for my A’Levels, we hardly had water at our residential halls. We queued up with our buckets every morning and every evening for water supply by tankers. Then one evening, guys played football. The tankers did not show up. How would they go to bed sweaty and smelly? A few of them started beating their buckets, singing “aluta” songs over water scarcity and poor welfare. Before we knew it, it had progressed to a protest march across the campus. And then a full-blown riot. Overnight, some of us trekked 10 kilometres to Ilorin town, afraid that soldiers would soon invade the campus and start shooting.

You would find it hard thinking a simple football game would lead to a bloody riot in a matter of minutes. In fact, if you were the cynical type, you would argue that the students were unserious, that they were in school to study and not to play football, and that it was the unserious students that caused the riot in order to be sent home. But you would be missing the point. Students were already frustrated. Nobody was paying attention. The anger was building up. The authorities did not see it. The resentment had reached a peak. They ignored it. It took a meaningless football match to fan the flame into an inferno. That is what happens when you fail to read the writing on the wall.

Let’s now return to #EndSARS. For decades, Nigerians have been complaining about police brutality. For decades, the Nigerian state has turned a blind eye, despite panels upon panels set up and recommendations upon recommendations made. As Professor Jibrin Ibrahim, respected political scientist and newspaper columnist, pointed out, all presidents since 1999 have set up one panel or the other on police reform. The reports are gathering dust on Aso Rock shelves. Meanwhile, the police have been gleefully stockpiling dead bodies, cocksure that there would be no consequences. SARS went on robbing and killing with impunity. Is the day of reckoning finally here?

But SARS apart, youth frustration has been building up. We asked them to go to school. They did. Write WASSCE. They did. Write UMTE. They did. Go to university. They did. Do national youth service. They did. Yet years later, they are still begging to apply for vacancies that do not exist, vacancies reserved for the children of the high and mighty. There are those that keep writing entrance exams but are unable to proceed because of lack of space or funds. There are those that never went to school, and those that dropped out in primary or secondary school. Millions are underemployed, unemployed or unemployable. What a huge army of frustrated youth.

But in the same country, if you manage to get elected into a state house of assembly, you will get a brand new SUV, currently sold at N50 million per machine. In some states, there are 40 lawmakers. That is N2 billion. Judges will wake up one day to realise the governor has just bought “tear-rubber” SUVs for them. Governors ride long convoys with the most modern bullet-proof technology. In the same society, hospitals are rejecting patients because “there is no bed space”. People are struggling to pay rising bus fares but their leaders can afford to charter jets to attend weddings and rallies. The youth see all these things. This is a society built on injustice and inequality. And we want peace?

Poverty, unemployment and inequality are the biggest triggers for uprising in any society. Some young persons taking to yahoo, drug dealing and armed robbery are products of a system that does not reckon with the implications of unemployment and poverty. An idle hand, it is said, is tempting the devil. No human being will sit at home and die of hunger. Self-preservation is a basic human instinct. If it is to steal, beg or borrow, the human being will strive to survive. Let me be clear: I am NOT justifying crime. However, a wise society will make a connection between unemployment, poverty and crime, and act decisively to address the problems at the root.

For decades, we have been asking the government to make the economic environment less hostile to businesses, especially small and medium scale enterprises, so that they will be able to create jobs for the millions of skilled and unskilled Nigerians. For decades, we have been putting up with the dissonance — government, on one hand, claiming they are trying to improve the ease of doing business; and government agencies, on the other hand, continuously terrorising SMEs with extortionate levies and taxes in a mad revenue drive, using task forces loaded with thugs and police officers to make the business environment unbearable for the engine room of the economy.

For inexplicable reasons, the government —whether federal, state or local — cannot understand the link between policy and prosperity. They think by making life difficult for businesses and their owners, the economy will grow and create the jobs needed to address the unemployment, poverty and inequality ravaging the nation. Does that make sense? For instance, if you run a business in Abuja, right under the nose of the federal government, the ministries, departments and agencies will violently come after you in such a way that you would think you are a Boko Haram member. Serious countries are encouraging SMEs. We are killing them. And we want to tackle unemployment.

In FCT, at least three units of the Abuja Municipal Council Area (AMAC) do “health inspection” on an eatery every year. You pay a levy for each visit. NAFDAC, NSTIF and SON will also do the same “health inspection” for a fee. There is an annual licence for “operating in FCT”. There is a levy for “using a car to distribute food”. You will be forced to pay Federal Housing Authority (FHA) and AMAC again for “fumigation”. There is also the AMAC “sanitary inspection” fee. AMAC’s department of environment charges for yearly inspection. There is yet another AMAC fee for “food and water-related handling”. That is how we want to encourage economic growth and create jobs in Nigeria!

In all, the #EndSARS protesters need to have an articulated game plan. They must have an end game in mind. At what stage do they sheathe the sword and seize this golden opportunity to begin to hold leaders at all levels accountable as a movement? No government official, whether elected or appointed, should sleep at ease again. What are the lawmakers doing with the constituency projects? Why are the roads so bad? Why are the hospitals and schools in such horrible state? Why are government officials chartering jets to attend political rallies? How are the budgets spent? These questions should shape the next stage of agitation, which should be peaceful and orderly.

If #EndSARS is going to be Nigeria’s tipping point — the point at which pockets of protests and agitations will trigger a major, sustained clamour for good governance — there is a need for strategic articulation, with an end game in mind. This is a lifetime opportunity for the youth to channel their anger, frustration and resentment into positive energy to bring about a fundamental change in Nigeria. The biggest gain should not be just to enforce an end to police brutality and impunity. Those are just symptoms of the chronic mismanagement of Nigeria. After #EndSARS, we need to end the biggest obstacle to our progress: appalling leadership at all tiers of government.

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Related Topics:#EndSARS a better nigeria businessess police brutality

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Opinion

Farooq Kperogi: Petrol is cheaper in Atlanta than in Nigeria

Published

4 days ago

November 30, 2024

Trends Admin

Farooq Kperogi

Farooq Kperogi: Petrol is cheaper in Atlanta than in Nigeria

This week, as I refueled my car, I couldn’t help but be struck by the sharp contrast between petrol prices here in Metro Atlanta and in Nigeria.

In Metro Atlanta, fuel prices hover at $2.70 per gallon, which is equivalent to around 67 cents per liter. (Four liters make up a gallon.) Translating this into naira reveals a stark discrepancy.

At the current exchange rate of 1,647 naira to the dollar, a gallon of petrol in Atlanta equates to approximately 5,200 naira or 1,102 naira per liter. That’s astonishingly cheaper than Nigeria’s prevailing rate of around 1,300 naira per liter.

This disparity grows even more troubling in light of the wildly differential minimum wage standards between Nigeria and the United States. In the United States, the federal minimum wage is $7.25 per hour, which amounts to roughly $1,200 a month. Converted into naira, this comes to nearly 1,974,000 (one million, nine hundred and seventy four thousand) naira.

Note that almost no one earns the minimum wage. Even the lowest remunerated workers here earn above the minimum wage. For example, my 16-year-old daughter who works at an entertainment restaurant chain on weekends earns $13 an hour.

Meanwhile, the federal minimum wage in Nigeria is a piddling 70,000 naira, or around $42.55. In other words, Nigerians with a minimum wage of 70,000 per month pay a higher rate at the pump than Atlantans with a minimum wage of 1.9 million naira per month.

When one presents these figures, defenders of past and present Nigerian regimes— and clueless, stonyhearted neoliberal evangelists— often argue that it’s fruitless to compare Nigeria with the United States, the world’s largest economy.

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Yet, it’s worth noting that the U.S. does not indulge in the luxuries afforded to Nigeria’s ruling political elites. For instance, while American presidents pay for their own meals, including the meals of their guests, Nigeria allocates billions for the upkeep of its first families.

Such contrasts illustrate not merely economic differences but also the broader question of public accountability and fiscal priorities.

In much of the developed world, government subsidies for fuel are deemed vital, particularly where public transport systems are not robust. In the U.S., for example, state governments sometimes provide targeted subsidies to cushion residents from high fuel prices.

The lower fuel prices in America are facilitated by state subsidies aimed at counterbalancing a lack of comprehensive public transit options, as is the case in Western Europe.

For instance, the governor of Georgia, Governor Brian Kemp, recently decided to suspend fuel taxes in Georgia following Hurricane Helene, which temporarily reduced petrol prices to around $2.50 per gallon. This is typical all over the United States.

The Center for Investigative Reporting found that the true cost of petrol in the United States is $15 per gallon, that is, $3.75 per liter. Converted into naira, that would amount to 24,648.90 naira per gallon or 6,162.23 naira per liter. But the average pump price of petrol in the United States is $3.16 per gallon.

(Gas prices can vary greatly within each state, with Texas having the lowest price of $2.669 per gallon and California the highest price at $4.68 per gallon. Note that California’s minimum wage is more than twice the federal minimum wage at $16.00 an hour.)

Americans don’t pay the actual cost of petrol because their state governments spend billions to subsidize their petrol consumption. According to the IMF, which has demonized fuel subsidies in the developing world, compelled governments to remove subsidies, and recruited scorn-worthy traitors to brainwash poor people into accepting that subsidies are bad for them, the United States spent $757 billion in fossil fuel subsidies in 2022 alone.

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Globally, the IMF said, “subsidies surged to a record $7 trillion [in 2022] as governments supported consumers and businesses during the global spike in energy prices caused by Russia’s invasion of Ukraine and the economic recovery from the pandemic.” That represents 7 percent of global GDP.

U.S. state governments spent a significant sum on fuel subsidies, largely as part of measures to alleviate the impact of elevated energy costs. These measures included gas tax holidays, direct consumer grants, and discounts, aiming to shield residents from the global surge in fuel prices following supply disruptions caused by international events like the Ukraine crisis.

These interventions illustrate the fiscal lengths governments are willing to go to stabilize fuel costs for their citizens amid economic challenges.

Countries as diverse as Egypt and Indonesia have similarly leveraged fuel subsidies to maintain price stability, alleviate poverty, and stimulate their economies. These examples illuminate a fundamental principle that subsidies, when properly managed, can serve as powerful tools to bridge income disparities and invigorate economic growth.

But not in Nigeria. Nigerians face relentless economic strain despite residing in an oil-producing nation. It’s a country where, somehow, people have been persuaded by a sophisticated mob of well-compensated spin doctors that exorbitant fuel prices are an unavoidable reality to which they must resign themselves.

For a resource-rich nation, which is also among the poorest globally, this is a bitter, disconcerting irony.

Those who denounce subsidies as inefficacious or detrimental often betray a limited understanding of their societal role, or worse, they may advocate for policies that consolidate wealth at the top.

In societies grappling with inequality, subsidies can mean the difference between bare survival and a modest but dignified life for millions.

To disparage such measures, particularly in a nation with profound economic inequalities, is to endorse a vision of society that is untenably divided—and to invite criticism that should rightly be directed not only toward them but, if you’ll pardon the expression, toward the legacy of those who espouse such values.

It is a grave irony, and a deeply unjust one, that the people of Nigeria — a nation abundantly blessed with oil wealth — must endure petrol prices that surpass those of Atlanta, a city in one of the world’s richest nations. This, while the average Nigerian subsists on a minimum wage of approximately $43 a month, a pittance that could scarcely fill a tank, let alone sustain a family.

The removal of petrol subsidies is not merely an economic policy; it is a sentence handed down to the already struggling, forcing countless Nigerians to choose between transportation, sustenance, and survival. The ripple effects are evident in unchecked inflation spirals, faltering businesses, and tragic loss of lives in the wake of avoidable hardship.

To govern is to protect, to prioritize the well-being of the many over the convenience of the few. To abandon subsidies under the guise of fiscal responsibility while the vulnerable teeter on the edge of despair is neither responsible nor just. It is, instead, an abdication of moral duty.

President Tinubu should restore the subsidies minus the corruption, not as a concession, but as an obligation to the people he is obligated to serve. To do so is not to admit defeat but to affirm humanity, to wield governance as a tool of compassion rather than austerity.

After all, what use is a nation’s wealth if it is not deployed in the service of its citizens? Let Nigeria’s oil be a blessing once more, not a bitter reminder of inequalities entrenched and lives disregarded.

Farooq Kperogi : Petrol is cheaper in Atlanta than in Nigeria

Farooq Kperogi is a renowned columnist and United States-based Professor of Journalism.

Opinion

What NNPCL staff revealed about reported revival of PH Refinery – Farooq Kperogi

Published

5 days ago

November 29, 2024

Trends Admin

Farooq Kperogi

What NNPCL staff revealed about reported revival of PH Refinery – Farooq Kperogi

Renowned Nigerian columnist and US-based professor, Farooq Kperogi, has linked the reported revival of the Port Harcourt Refinery and the ill-fated launch of Nigerian Air.

In a social media post on Thursday, Kperogi shared his findings after attempting to fact-check claims that the refinery had resumed operations and was producing petrol.

Seeking clarity, Kperogi said he reached out to a friend with expertise in the oil industry, who in turn consulted a staff member of the Nigerian National Petroleum Company Limited (NNPCL).

“The Port Harcourt Refinery guy responded with a single, devastatingly eloquent gesture: he sent him a picture of Nigerian Air,” Kperogi wrote, leaving readers to interpret the cryptic reply.

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The comparison to Nigerian Air resonates with the controversy surrounding its much-celebrated launch, which was later revealed to be a façade as the aircraft returned to Ethiopian Airlines.

Reflecting on the situation, Kperogi remarked, “Reader, I think we both know the translation: dreams may take flight, but some never leave the runway.”

He concluded on a somber note, suggesting that continued optimism about Nigeria’s progress may require an extraordinary tolerance for disappointment: “At this rate, to not give up on Nigeria is to be a masochist with a superabundant love for perpetual emotional self-flagellation.”

The post has sparked a wave of reactions, with many questioning the authenticity of the refinery’s reported revival.

What NNPCL staff revealed about reported revival of PH Refinery – Farooq Kperogi

Opinion

Farooq Kperogi: One president, many spokesmen, and mixed messages amid misery

Published

2 weeks ago

November 23, 2024

Trends Admin

Farooq Kperogi

Farooq Kperogi: One president, many spokesmen, and mixed messages amid misery

President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s unparalleled appointment of three official, cabinet-level spokesmen—in addition to 9 other senior media aides— symptomizes an insidious governmental malaise. It shows a government that is obsessed with public relations at the expense of public welfare, propaganda at the expense of progress, and mind management at the expense of meaningful management.

On November 14, Daniel Bwala, the former mouthpiece for PDP’s Atiku Abubakar during the last presidential campaign, was inaugurated as Tinubu’s Special Adviser on Media and Public Communication. This move added him to a line-up that already included Bayo Onanuga, Special Adviser on Information and Strategy, who had been informally recognized as the senior spokesperson after Ajuri Ngelale’s dramatic exit, and Sunday Dare, Special Adviser to the President on Public Communication and National Orientation.

Yet, on his very first day, October 18, Bwala brazenly declared himself “the spokesman for the president” to State House correspondents, proclaiming that he was the direct successor to Ngelale. His Twitter declaration further cemented his self-anointment: “Resumed officially as the Special Adviser, Media and Public Communications/Spokesperson (State House).”

Since Onanuga had effectively functioned as the spokesman for the president after Ngelale was forced out of the Presidential Villa, it seemed like Tinubu had no confidence in Onanuga and chose to upstage him by bringing in Bwala.

That puzzled me. I wondered what reputational, symbolic, or political capital Bwala had to earn such an edge. Here’s a man who is deeply resented by Tinubu supporters for his erstwhile caustic attacks on the president and APC during the last election, who is reviled by the opposition for his perceived treachery and mercenariness, and who is disdained by people who couldn’t care less about both Tinubu and the opposition. Such a person is more of a reputational liability than an asset for persuasion.

So it came as no surprise when I read a swift news release from Bayo Onanuga disclaiming Bwala’s self-description as “the spokesperson” for the president. TheCable of November 19 reported that Tinubu was “furious on learning of Bwala’s manoeuvre and immediately instructed Onanuga to issue a clarification.”

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The “clarification” says Bwala is now Special Adviser Policy Communication and Sunday Dare is now Special Adviser, Media and Public Communications. “These appointments, along with the existing role of Special Adviser, Information and Strategy, underscore that there is no single individual spokesperson for the Presidency. Instead, all the three Special Advisers will collectively serve as spokespersons for the government,” the statement said.

Tinubu has by far the largest media team in Nigeria’s history—just like he has the largest cabinet in Nigeria’s history. Yet his government has inflicted the most hardship on Nigeria and demands the greatest sacrifice from Nigerians whom he has already stripped of basic welfare and dignity.

Despite this elaborate roster of media professionals, Tinubu’s government stands as a paradox: the most expansive communication team in Nigerian history, yet the most tone-deaf administration in addressing the agonies of ordinary Nigerians. Like his record-breaking cabinet size, his communication machinery seems less about functionality and more about optics—a poorly orchestrated façade against the backdrop of deepening national suffering.

Historically, Nigerian presidents have managed with far leaner communication teams. President Olusegun Obasanjo had a relatively modest media and communications team. His first spokesperson was Doyin Okupe, who was designated as Special Assistant on Media and Publicity from 1999 to 2000.

He was succeeded by Tunji Oseni whose designation was changed to Senior Special Assistant on Media and Publicity and served in that role from 2000 to 2003. He was replaced by Remi Oyo from 2003 until 2007.

Apart from these official spokespeople, Obasanjo appointed Dr. Stanley Macebuh as Senior Special Assistant on Public Communications. After firing him, he replaced him with Emmanuel Arinze.

He also appointed Femi Fani-Kayode as Special Assistant on Public Affairs and replaced him with Uba Sani after elevating him to a minister. In other words, Obasanjo never had more than three media/communications people at any one time, and he always had just one official spokesperson.

Umaru Musa Yar’Adua’s had Olusegun Adeniyi as his one and only media person/spokesperson. He is also on record as the first president to elevate the position to a cabinet-level position by redesignating as a “Special Adviser” position.

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Goodluck Jonathan sustained this tradition. When Ima Niboro was his Special Adviser on Media and Publicity from 2010 to 2011, he had no other media/communications person. And when Reuben Abati took over from Niboro from 2011 to 2015, he was the only spokesperson and media/communications person for the president.

The slide into a propagandocracy began with Muhammadu Buhari, who doubled down on PR appointments. While Femi Adesina served as his Special Adviser on Media and Publicity, Garba Shehu operated as Senior Special Assistant on Media and Publicity. Buhari’s entourage also included social media mavens, photographers, and digital content creators—an unprecedented escalation in spin management.

There was Tolu Ogunlesi (Special Assistant, Digital & New Media); Lauretta Onochie (Personal Assistant, Social Media); Bashir Ahmad (Personal Assistant, New media); Sha’aban Sharada (Personal Assistant, Broadcast Media); Naziru Muhammed (Personal Assistant, TV Documentary); Sunday Aghaeze (Personal Assistant, Photography); and Bayo Omoboriowo (Personal Assistant/ President’s Photographer).

But Tinubu has taken this expansion to absurd heights. Apart from three cabinet-level official spokespersons, you also have Tunde Rahman (Senior Special Assistant to the President — Media); Abdulaziz Abdulaziz (Senior Special Assistant to the President — Print Media); O’tega Ogra (Senior Special Assistant (Digital/New Media); Tope Ajayi – Senior Special Assistant (Media & Public Affairs); Segun Dada (Special Assistant — Social Media); Nosa Asemota – Special Assistant (Visual Communication); Mr Fredrick Nwabufo (Senior Special Assistant to the President — Public Engagement); Mrs Linda Nwabuwa Akhigbe (Senior Special Assistant to the President — Strategic Communications); and Mr Aliyu Audu (Special Assistant to the President — Public Affairs).

Such bloated extravagance sends a disconcerting message about the administration’s priorities during a time of profound economic hardship.

In a March 4, 2017 column titled “Propagandocracy and the Buhari Media Center,” I pointed out that the size of a government’s propaganda apparatus is often inversely proportional to its confidence in its own legitimacy. Tinubu’s indulgence in this over-the-top PR operation signals two troubling realities: insecurity and incoherence.

The insecurity stems from an acute awareness of its own fragility—an administration desperate to control the narrative because it knows it has failed to deliver on substantive governance. The incoherence arises from the cacophony of voices in this unwieldy structure, breeding contradictions, turf wars, and conflicting messages. How can a government unable to synchronize its internal communication hope to connect with its citizens?

At its core, Tinubu’s sprawling PR machine is emblematic of an administration focused on perception management rather than problem-solving. This gluttonous obsession with propaganda, in the midst of soaring inflation, subsidy removals, and austerity measures, is an affront to struggling Nigerians.

Leadership demands more than just the appearance of competence; it demands action. Until Tinubu shifts his focus from multiplying spokespersons to delivering substantive governance, his legacy risks being that of a leader who built a fortress of spin while the people languished outside its gates.