Opinion

The agonies of Buhari and Oshiomhole

Published

5 years ago

September 28, 2020

Tunde Odesola

(Published in The PUNCH on Monday, September 28, 2020)

For the All Progressives Congress, it’s not raining, it’s pouring but the umbrella is with the hot-chasing rival, the Peoples Democratic Party.

Each time Nigerian President, Major General Muhammadu Buhari (retd.), boots a penalty kick into throw-in, I begin to ponder the importance of secondary school education as a useful tool for political leadership.

Whenever I imagine how former comrade, Adams Aliyu Oshiomhole, hid his tragic flaws, and led labour unions out against governments, only to now fall face down to the very ills of hypocrisy and highhandedness for which he had countlessly grounded the country back in the day, I take heed of the idiom, which says character, like smoke, can’t be trapped in a fist.

The illogicality of some self-indicting pronouncements by Buhari leaves so much bile in the stomach and provokes the mouth to snarl the Igbo proverb, “If the oracle asserts too much power, it will be shown the tree it was carved from.”

Last week, Oshiomhole’s rootless invincibility was dragged naked to the Ovia River by his ruthless ex-godson, Godwin Obaseki, who decimated the godfather and set Edo electorate agog.

Devastatingly, the Interstate Ballistic Missiles deployed by the coalition of enemies-turned-friends in the Edo electoral blitzkrieg also hit the chief priest of godfather politics in Nigeria, Asiwaju Bola Tinubu, ripping apart his political carapace while the song, “Edo no be Lagos,” erupted in the camp of the prodigally famous PDP.

Aside from demystifying Buhari’s APC and disgracing the Lagos-Edo godfathers, the battle for the soul of Edo between the two major political parties reveals that lust for power was the superglue that binds Nigeria’s political elite, and not the love of the masses because the countdown to the election was totally bereft of masses-oriented issues but abusive rants by both parties.

I, hereby, invite Nigeria-loving comrades, not labour union-exploiting, brown khaki-wearing ‘come-raids’, into the world of Yoruba mythology as I tell the story of Ifa and Okete.

Every land has a name for the okete. Among the Yoruba, okete is the pouched rat with the famed white-tipped tail. Long before it was demystified and became a choice delicacy in earthen pot soups, okete was a bosom friend of Orunmila, the grand priest of Ifa – Yoruba’s traditional religion and system of divination. Okete was also an adherent of Ifa.

According to the Araba of Osogbo, Ifayemi Elebuibon, Orunmila grew suspicious when the secrets of his divination became subjects of discussion in the marketplace. Thus, Orunmila consulted Ifa, who told him what to do.

On the third day, as commanded by Ifa, Orunmila stood before his shrine and looked skywards, chanting some incantations and suddenly brought down his spear, driving it hard into the earth in one fell swoop. There was a violent vibration within the earth as the spear pierced an unseen creature. The creature had burrowed a tunnel from its house through to Orunmila’s shrine, where it daily listened to Ifa divinations from under the ground.

Orunmila yanked out the spear together with its kill from inside the ground and okete was seen at the long end, bleeding from a cracked skull with spilled brains. Disappointed, Orunmila lamented the treachery of Okete in these very words, “Okete, ba yi ni iwa re, o ba Ifa mu’le, o da Ifa.”

Without jibber-jabbering, the oath President Buhari swore to, on behalf of Nigerians, is to protect the Constitution of the Federal Republic. And the Constitution guarantees the inalienable right of Nigerians to aspire to any post in the land, among many other rights being more honoured in breach than in observance by the Major General Buhari regime.

The Nigerian Constitution guarantees equitable representation in appointments at the federal level – in line with the dictates of the country’s federal character policy which seeks to build national unity and foster a sense of belonging among the geopolitical zones of the country.

Buhari’s unsurpassable kith-and-kin governance, however, has consistently negated this constitutional provision with ALL key security headships, except one, going to northerners. Similarly, the heads of more than 80 percent of critical non-security agencies are from the North with Buhari hand-picking junior northerners above their far more competent southern superiors – to head the organisations.

Last week, I read with mouth agape, the strident call of a president with an unenviable track record of nepotism, demanding from the United Nations an equitable representation on the Security Council. Major General Buhari who comes to equity, mustn’t come with bloodied hands.

In a video sent to a virtual meeting by world leaders to commemorate the 75th anniversary of the UN, Buhari said there was the need for fair and equitable representation in the Security Council ‘if we must achieve the United Nations we need’.

By his penchant for clannishness, unjust distribution of appointments and projects, I’m strongly persuaded to believe that Buhari never made that equity-demanding statement credited to him by his Special Adviser on Media and Publicity, Femi Adesina. That could never have been Buhari talking because equity won’t rehabilitate Boko Haram members while their homeless Christian victims are still in sackcloths, gnashing their teeth and mourning dead relatives. Equity won’t support Fulani herdsmen usurpation of southern territories while the Buhari government comes up with various policies seeking to legitimise their criminal activities.

Like okete, Buhari has clearly not stayed true to his oath to the Federal Republic of Nigeria and the citizenry.

What about Oshiomhole? For some days, Oshiomhole went incommunicado from the public after the crushing defeat in Edo only to find his voice in a gym, where he futilely attempted to downplay the PDP victory by trying very hard to appear strong, unperturbed and sportsmanly.

In the same manner that okete was eventually subdued and exposed, the one minute, forty-seven seconds video exposes a subdued Oshiomhole painfully swallowing his pride and putting up a show, pretending to be oblivious that Obaseki now stands astride a certain coffin with a sledgehammer and nails in hand.

A hitherto tough-talking, no-nonsense, almighty Oshiomhole caught a pitiable sight as he sweated and clasped his hands like a defrauded merchant, prevaricating on the electoral loss.

Oshiomhole tried very hard to gloss over the loss but he failed. Without mentioning the nightmarish loss, Oshiomhole, in the video, also didn’t mention the name of his party, his party’s candidate, the PDP or Obaseki – all screaming telltales of living in denial.

If he was as strong, sportsmanly and undisturbed as he tried to evince in the video, Oshiomhole should’ve commended the electorate and the Independent National Electoral Commission for the conduct of the largely peaceful election. Also, he should’ve praised the standard bearer of his party, Osagie Ize-Iyamu, for putting up a good fight, and spared Obaseki and the PDP a word of congratulation.

But Oshiomhiole appeared devastated by the loss that put paid to a golden opportunity to reinvent himself in his Edo home base after he was sacked in Abuja as national chairman of the APC.

In retrospect, I think Oshiomhole would probably have wished he had tolerated Obaseki and retained the Edo Government House. Ize-Iyamu too would likely have fancied his political prospect if he had remained in the PDP. May the Lord direct my steps, lest I mismove in life.

Unwanted in Abuja, rejected in Edo, it’s now Oshiomole’s turn to taste the bitter pills he served his predecessor and former National Chairman of the APC, John Odigie-Oyegun; a former Edo governor, Lucky Igbinedion, and the late Chairman, PDP Board of Trustees, Tony Anenih, whom Oshiomole boastfully declared he retired.

In the next four years, it will take political mismanagement on the path of Obaseki for Oshiomhole to bounce back in Edo, a state intolerant of godfathers who shout hosanna in the morning and chorus, kill him at night.

Email: [email protected]

Opinion

Bombing Iran: Trump’s grave error, by Fani-Kayode

Published

2 days ago

June 22, 2025

Trends Admin

Former Aviation Minister, Femi Fani-Kayode

Bombing Iran: Trump’s grave error, by Fani-Kayode

President Donald Trump, I am constrained to ask you the following question.

With respect, do you really believe there can be peace after you have dropped all those bombs?

If so you are far less intelligent than I thought and power has blinded your better judgement.

You have clearly lost your senses, your emotions have taken over and, like a scorned woman, you are unable to exercise any logical or rational thinking.

At this point perhaps the best course for the American people is to have you impeached. The world and America would be better for it.

How I wish you had listened to the likes of Tulsi Gabbard (your own Head of Security and Intelligence), Candace Owen, Tucker Carlson, Alex Jones, Nick Fuentes, Marjorie Green, Scott Ritter, Norman Finklestein, Aiden Hunter, Professor Mearsheimer, Andrew Tate, Tristan Tate, Steve Bannon, Professor Jeffrey Sachs, Colonel Douglas Macgregor, David Icke & so many other influential, cerebal & saner figures in your country & elsewhere & NOT dropped these bombs on Iran.

Sadly you have gone against the tide of world opinion & even that of most of those in your MAGA movement & nation & attacked her.

This was a monumental mistake & grave error.

A few day ago I accused you of suffering from hubris (which always leads to nemesis) & you have proved me right.

With this single act of stupidity & recklessness you have murdered sleep & destroyed everything positive that you ever did for your country both in your first & second coming.

Worse of all you have betrayed God & the American people who put you on the throne to make PEACE and bring justice, sanity & order to the world.

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Instead of doing that you have joined hands with the children of satan & the sons of perdition to destroy the world & bring nothing but division, carnage, blood & tears.

War comes at a high price & a weakened Iran is a dangerous Iran with nothing to lose.

You have woken up the lion in them & left them with no choice but to rise up & defend themselves from your attack & not just the attacks from your puppet Israel.

This is especially so given the fact that it is clear that the threat to them, despite your fake assurances & lies, is existential & your ultimate intention is to remove their Government, dismember their nation & turn it into something worse than modern-day Libya, Iraq, Syria, Somalia, Afghanistan & Gaza.

Simply put you want to kill their leaders, cut off their balls as a nation and turn them into a pitiful shadow of their former selves & a weak & pathetic collection of powerless, hungry, ravaged & desperate eunuchs & refugees.

You want to shatter their identity & dreams, denigrate their history & pride, decimate their dignity & heritage, shame their essence & ancestors, bring them to their knees & turn them into a nation of vagrants, vassals & homeless beggars.

They will NEVER allow this to happen without a fight & unlike in the case of others they do have strong friends & allies in China, Russia, Pakistan, North Korea, Turkey, South Africa, Brazil, Indonesia, Malaysia, the Middle East, the Global South & much of the Muslim world.

It is not about winning for them but about defending their people, fighting for their pride, honouring their heritage, affirming their rich & noble history & standing up for their rights even if it means that they all have to die. Martyrdom is joy to them & that is what you are up against.

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I suggest you look to all your military bases, assets & personnel & allies in the Middle East & Arab Gulf states & to the waters of the Hormuz Straits because they will now ALL be tagretted by the Iranians.

If you think they will bow to you, run away from the fight & not respond then you know nothing about their sense of pride, self-respect, culture, history or faith.

They would rather die than bend the knee to the likes of you & this is a noble trait which we should ALL emulate.

You were never ‘America First’ but rather you are ‘Israel First’. You were never for #MAGA (Make America Great Again) but rather you were for MIGA (Make Israel Great Again)!

By bombing Iran & entering the fray you have brought the entire world one step closer to WW3, you have opened the gates of hell, you have set the Middle East on fire & you have thrust your people into a war which was not theirs to fight & for no just cause on behalf of an ethno-fascist, racist, genocidal, child-killing, ethnic-cleansing and mass murdering apartheid state of religious bigots, right-wing extremists, Zionists & fanatics which control both you & your country.

Make no mistake, the Iranians WILL hit back & this will be the beginning of the end of not just American hegemony & the American empire but also of your legacy & the MAGA movement.

As a consequence of your fragile ego, low intelligence quotient, pride, vanity, poor choices, bullying disposition & inexplicable desire to serve Bibi Netanyahu and the nation of Israel even at the expense of yours, millions of people will die and full scale war shall return to not just the Middle East but ultimately to the entire world.

I once thought you were a man of vision, strength, peace and compassion but I was wrong.

Now I know that you are no better than a shallow fool and a road-side bully: a dangerous and despicable creature that has no honor, no truth, no value for human life and no love of God.

May the Lord save the world from you and your neocon, fascist and Zionist friends and allies.

(Chief Femi Fani-Kayode is the Sadaukin Shinkafi, the Wakilin Doka Potiskum, the Otunba Joga Orile, a former Minister of Culture and Tourism and a former Minister of Aviation)

Bombing Iran: Trump’s grave error, by Fani-Kayode

Opinion

Farooq Kperogi : Seeing Nigeria from my American daughter’s eyes

Published

3 days ago

June 21, 2025

Trends Admin

Farooq Kperogi : Seeing Nigeria from my American daughter’s eyes

Sometimes, it takes the unburdened and free-spirited perceptions of outsiders, particularly children, to appreciate taken-for-granted cultural peculiarities. This fact came to the fore for me after taking my 8-year-old daughter, Ramat, to Nigeria for the first time, between May 29 and June 16.

Ramat, whom I named after my maternal grandmother, was born in the United States and, unlike her older siblings, had never visited Nigeria even though she has always possessed the most intense Nigerian patriotic fervor among my children.

For example, she proudly identifies as “Nigerian” even to her American friends and classmates (which is not very usual for children born here), loves Nigerian food (“swallow” is her favorite food), knows almost every Afrobeats hit, and is an aspiring hafiza (i.e., a Qur’an memorizer), inspired by her grandfather, who passed away two months before her birth.

However, her classmates called her a “fake Nigerian” because she had never actually visited the country whose identity she flaunted at every opportunity and defended with all her might. That really got to her. Plus, she is the only person in the house who had never visited Nigeria.

So, she mounted immense pressure on me since 2022 to take her to Nigeria. I promised to do so but serially failed to keep my words for a whole host of reasons. On January 1 this year, the first thing she said to me was: “Daddy, I won’t forgive you if you don’t keep your promise to take me to Nigeria this year. Happy New Year!”

I didn’t anticipate that forceful earnestness and directness from her. I had wanted for the whole family to visit, but our first daughter, a final-year engineering student, would be in Japan for a study-abroad program throughout the summer.

So, I told my wife that we had to take Ramat alone and wait for another opportunity for the whole family to visit. I didn’t want to risk incurring Ramat’s youthful wrath.

Given how much she idolizes and idealizes everything Nigerian, I was slightly apprehensive that she would confront a disjunction between the Nigeria she had fantasized and the Nigeria she would encounter, although I had given her a realistic portrait of our country, at least from my perspective.

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My apprehension was heightened when she asked me to pinch her as soon as our plane landed in Abuja. She wanted to be sure that she wasn’t dreaming. The pang of the pinch was the assurance she needed to convince herself that this wasn’t one of the many dreams she had had about visiting Nigeria only to awaken in America.

But the very first observation she made after we got out of the airport was that everyone seemed to be happy even though she didn’t see as much conspicuous material prosperity in Abuja as she does in the United States.

The ever-present joy in people’s faces, the genuineness of the smiles of total strangers, the over-solicitous courtesies of a vast variety of people, and the unfeigned conversational warmth of people from an array of backgrounds registered powerfully in her and contrasted sharply with the customs of the United States.

Everyday experiences in Nigeria further reinforced her initial observation. At a point, she remarked that it was impossible to be sad for too long in Nigeria. Because I was born and raised in Nigeria, I honestly hadn’t consciously thought about the bright, sunny, gregarious aspects of Nigerian culture as natural therapy for depression.

I was particularly struck by the contrast she drew between Nigerian and the United States. After several days in Nigeria, she told me, “People aren’t enjoying life in America. People are not happy in America.”

She seemed particularly moved by the contagious communal gaiety of Nigeria. There is inestimable delight in the easy familiarity and sociability of friends and family. Countless cousins, uncles, aunts embraced her as if they had always known her. As someone who seems to have inherited my passion for genealogical connections, she was pleased to see relatives and eagerly took mental notes of how they were related to her.

She also met numerous important figures, the American equivalents of whom she could scarcely imagine meeting. This not only deepened her self-awareness and self-esteem but also reinforced her sense of belonging to Nigeria.

Even sources of existential irritation to Nigerians, such as power outages, are reservoirs of excitement for her. She spent some time with her cousins in Abuja, attended their school for a day, and quickly learned to cheer up, “Up NEPA!” whenever power is restored. The cycle of power outages and restoration became thrilling events for her.

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Even our notoriously poor roads were stimulatingly enjoyable “bumpy rides” to her. Of course, she couldn’t help but notice that the roads in Benin Republic (which we visited) had the same quality as American roads. She has a precocious knowledge of world geography and knows that Benin Republic is poorer than Nigeria.

When she asked me why the Nigerian side of Borgu (which includes my local government of Baruten in Kwara State) had chronic “bumpy” roads while the Benin Republic side had American-quality roads even though Nigeria is way richer than Benin Republic, I had no answer that would make sense to her 8-year-old mind that has been caught up in uncritical Nigerian patriotism.

Despite this, she adored rural Nigeria as much as urban areas. She felt the village gave her a sense of identity unavailable elsewhere. Everyone greeted her—and each other—with warmth and familiarity, making her feel part of one big family.

She noticed that she resembled many people and that many resembled her older siblings. Her grandaunts told her she looked just like the woman after whom she was named, enhancing her emotional connection to an identity beyond her immediate experience.

Visiting the place where I grew up, meeting my mother, siblings, cousins, uncles, and aunts, profoundly connected her to a larger community, which enriched her sense of self-worth. She also met relatives from her mother’s paternal side that helped build a sense of rootedness in Nigeria that she cherishes deeply.

It often takes an outsider’s perspective to remind us that what we routinely overlook can profoundly impact others. The ordinary, everyday aspects of our lives can hold extraordinary meaning for those who see them with fresh eyes.

Ramat’s reactions made me reflect deeply on how much of our culture and communal life we undervalue simply because we encounter them daily.

Life’s meaning often emerges most clearly from contrasts. Experiencing Nigeria through Ramat’s enthusiastic perspective showed me the powerful significance of contrasts–between plenty and scarcity, between convenience and challenge, between familiarity and novelty. These contraries lend life its richness and complexity.

For Ramat, the pervasive warmth and vibrancy of Nigerian culture filled an emotional void she didn’t fully realize she had. Born in America yet deeply rooted in Nigerian heritage, she found her true self within the social fabric and lively traditions of our homeland. This profound connection underscores the importance of cherishing and preserving what we have.

I was deeply touched by how ordinary things I took for granted made her feel uniquely special and deeply loved to the point that she cried really hard when we had to leave Nigeria. She didn’t want to return to the United States! None of my older children ever said they didn’t want to return to the United States after visiting Nigeria. They were all born in Nigeria.

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

Farooq Kperogi : Seeing Nigeria from my American daughter’s eyes

Opinion

Herdsmen and crabs swimming in Benue’s river of blood

Published

4 days ago

June 20, 2025

Trends Admin

Tunde Odesola

Herdsmen and crabs swimming in Benue’s river of blood

Tunde Odesola

(Published in The PUNCH, on Friday, June 20, 2025)

Long before man dug a hole in every inch of the earth searching for oil, the crab had been in the business of oil drilling. The crab’s house – I mean its burrow – not its shell, is an oil rig at work.

For many Great Akokites, the most beautiful site in the University of Lagos isn’t the 13-storey Senate Building or the golden auditorium – it’s the Lagoon Front. The Lagoon Front is the wide-armed rendezvous where the vast Lagos Lagoon kisses Akoka’s scholarly shoreline, ohing and ahing as water caresses the bank…swoosh, slosh, splosh.

By day, the Lagoon Front is home to thinkers. By night, it’s a love nest to Romeos and Juliets exploring a soft-lit Eden. I was both thinker and wanderer, often tracing the scenic curvy road past the Lagoon Front toward the vice chancellor’s lodge, feet shuffling, thoughts flowing. Great Akokites! Great!

As a student, I was a regular daytime visitor to the Lagoon Front. There, I encountered the crab in its natural habitat. Its burrows were filled with oil water, and I always wondered what the crab had to do with oil. It never occurred to me to research the phenomenon.

But the song of Adawa King, Admiral Dele Abiodun, the Juju maestro, keeps whispering to me, “Epo ti alakan won se, lati bi odun mejo, ko i t’agolo ofo lo ja si,” meaning: “The palm oil being produced by the crab since three years ago, has not filled a single tin – wasted labour.”

Does the crab produce palm oil? I have answers now. The crab does not produce oil. Science says the claw-bearer burrows into mudflats, mangroves or brackish wetlands, where there’s a high amount of decaying organic materials like leaves, algae, or animal waste.

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As these materials decompose, they release natural oils, fatty acids and hydrocarbons, forming the shiny or oily film that cloaks the crab’s burrow. Also, some crabs produce mucus-like substances to reinforce their burrows or line the walls. These secretions can reflect light and appear oily, especially when wet. Science washes oil off the burrow.

However, a morality tale in African mythology tells a story of the crab known locally as Akan or Alakan. The Akan isn’t just an armoured crawler, it’s a drunkard, a debtor, a trickster, who frequents the bar of Adaba the Dove, a brewer and merchant of enjoyment.

Regularly, the crab crawls sideways to the dove’s bar, drinks and stands up to go. “Where’s my money?” the dove asks. “I’ll pay you when I come tomorrow,” the crab replies.

The next day, Mr Crab, carrying his pincers like armoured tanks, comes visiting, drinking and enjoying himself. Dove: “Where’s the money for the drinks?” Crab: “I’ll pay you tomorrow.” Days turn into weeks, and Akan fails to fulfil his promise. A shouting match ensues one afternoon. Then, friends advise Akan to go and tell a debt collector — the slithering, cold-blooded Ejo the snake, whose business nomenclature is ògò – debt collecting.

The snake agrees to help Adaba retrieve its money from Akan. So, before Akan arrives the next day to binge, the snake is already seated. After drinking, the crab gets up and heads for the door. “Hey! Where’s my money?” “I’ll give it to you tomorrow.” The dove pounces and calls on the snake to help retrieve all his money. Wahala!

No one has seen the crab run so fast. Maybe the drink was anabolic steroids to its 10 legs. But the snake followed in hot chase, with the dove flapping behind them, cooing, “Bere mu kun-kun, bere mu kun-kun,” meaning – Grab it tightly! Grab it tightly!” But the crab narrowly makes it into its burrow. And, the dove becomes even more agitated, cooing wildly, “Bere mu kun-kun, bere mu kun-kun.”

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This is a tricky test for the debt-collector, who pauses outside the burrow. Eventually, the snake inches its head into the burrow slowly; there was darkness and silence, then a sharp snap – ‘pai’ – and the snake swirls back outside in severe pain, writhing on the ground without its head. The debtor decapitates the debt collector; the crab has done its worst.

Nigeria is a crab republic. Since 1999, corruption wore a green-white-green agbada and sat in the saddle of democracy inside Aso Rock, aiding and abetting the crabs called leaders. Nigerian crabby leaders share similarities with the storied crab. Both sets are debtors, drunkards and tricksters.

Though aeons set the fabled crab and Nigeria’s crab-leaders apart, both are experts in fakery – producing fake oil, selling fake hope, and repaying kindness with evil. Nigerian crab leaders are meaner than the devil.

Where else but in the crabholes of Nigeria do herdsmen slaughter villagers by the hundreds without a single arrest? The crab government knows the killers, but peasant lives don’t matter in the burrows, nor do they matter in Benue, the current scene of bloodshed. Herdsmen are gods. Peasants are dogs.

The serpent swallowed its tail a long time ago when Jona-Dumb looked for his shoelace while the nation burnt, and the skeletal tyrant handed over the country to herdsmen before heading to Katsina ranch. Now, the mafia lord, cigar between clenched lips, presses down his Chicago boots on the masses’ neck, toasting to his impending 2027 electoral victory. “It is my turn!”

Since Olusegun Obasanjo’s reign, herdsmen have painted Nigeria red. Yet no killer has ever worn handcuffs (except once), no machete has been brought to court. But the DSS – Department of Supression and Suffocation – is hounding the call for a shadow government.

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There is a WIKEd crab in Abuja, roaming freely and wildly – claws up, ready to fight even its own shadow. He epitomises the crab mentality that defines Nigerian politics – drag others down, cling to power, oppress the oppressed, kill and loot.

For security purposes, the mythical crab safeguards its carapace with its protruding eyes, “oju ni alakan fi n sori,” but the crabs lording it over Nigeria don’t give a hoot if herdsmen level a whole state since they have armed escort, armoured cars and their hands in the till.

If you think that Nigerians don’t know that President Bola Tinubu’s visit to Benue was just a photo opportunity aka photo-op, which will not stop the next bloodbath, take a look at the photo of the mother sitting by the wounded child’s bedside in the hospital when the Secretary to the Government of the Federation, George Akume, came calling. Her stare was icy, helpless and distant as if Akume and his well-fed band never existed. The picture captures Nigerians’ regret and loss of hope in the Tinubu government.

Popular social media influencer, Martins Vincent Otse, aka VeryDarkMan, visited Yelewata and interviewed an unnamed resident in the aftermath of the pogrom. The resident said the police engaged the killers, who later used another route to enter Yelewata and massacre.

Specifically, the resident mentioned Fulani herdsmen as the perpetrators of the mass murder carried out on the rainy night. Yes, rain fell, blood flowed, and the government yawned.

As national leader of the All Progressives Congress, I remember Tinubu disagreeing with those accusing herdsmen of being the killers of the daughter of Pa Reuben Fasoranti in 2022. Tinubu had asked, “Where are the cows?” But the police later arrested the killers, and the court sentenced them to death.

I implore Tinubu’s DSS to carry out a nationwide investigation to unravel if the herdsmen rode into Yelewata on cows. Maybe they will find some chewing cud beside the burnt corpses.

In Nigeria’s crab empire, cows roam, killer herdsmen thrive, lands abound without food, and oil wealth is meaningless. What is the name of a big-for-nothing country?

Email: [email protected]

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