Opinion

Tinubu, Yusuph Olaniyonu and hunger protest

Published

4 months ago

August 9, 2024

Trends Admin

Tunde Odesola

Tinubu, Yusuph Olaniyonu and hunger protest

Tunde Odesola

(Published in The PUNCH, on Friday, August 9, 2024)

Returning home from work on a humid evening in 2016, I asked my children their thoughts about visiting America. They took their gaze away from the TV, searched my eyes for seriousness, smiled doubtfully and returned their gaze to the TV, exhibiting an air of ‘we have outgrown your pranks, this old man’. America ko, Africa ni.

“OK, guys,” I said deadpan, “We’re going to the US Embassy next week.” That should break the ice, so I thought, as I watched their faces light up suddenly, all speaking about the same time.

A voice said, “Let’s go there, Baba T!” Another, whose legs couldn’t reach the pedals of a car, said, “I’ll drive all of you to Lagos.” Yet another said, “I will issue all of you visas, you don’t need to go to the embassy.” Laughter. Voices. “You all don’t need visas to America when I’ll fly the plane,” a voice said. They all laughed at their father.

How many children does this man have, you must be wondering. Don’t wander too far; destined is the head that picks the choicest meat from the pot – orí la fí ń mú eran lawo. Shoot your shot at the orange tree – none, one, two or more oranges may drop. I shot my shot and more than one orange dropped into my arms. I’m not an eku eda, the proliferating house rat. My wife and I wanted two, God multiplied the two. Anyway, I admit children are gifts from God, lest any man should boast about his testosterone.

So, to Lagos we went from Osogbo, spending the night at grandpa’s house in Lagos and heading to the embassy a day after. I needn’t apply for a visa because I had one and had just returned from the US the year before. It was my Gang I needed visas for.

We went through security protocols at the embassy and in less than five minutes we were out of the embassy with visas in the kitty.

Weeks later, I booked tickets for my Gang and I but I didn’t inform them until a couple of days before departure. I always enjoy surprises and suspense.

On the way to the airport, my children were still suspicious of me, thinking the ‘US trip’ was one of my jokes. They were probably looking for me to burst out laughing, saying, “America ko, Africa ni, let’s return home, jare! I was only kidding you guys.”

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They struggled to bottle their excitement when we headed towards the plane, pinching themselves to wake up from the dream. They burst into stifled joy when the plane taxied off the tarmac, airborne. They locked hands, whispered silently among themselves as excited children do, and prayed not to be woken from dreamland. It was their first time on a plane.

We landed in America to the cold embrace of winter. Way into our vacation, my younger brother, Niyi, and a family friend, Benjamin Orusara and his wife, Sola, advised me to leave the kids behind to continue their schooling in the US. “Leave them? How? How much is school fees here,” I asked. “It’s free and compulsory for elementary, middle and high schools,” they told me. They added that it’s a jailable offence for parents or guardians not to send their children or wards to school in America. It was easy to reach a decision because their mother was already holidaying in the US, ahead of our visit.

So, I requested their report cards to be sent to me from Nigeria. Report cards sent, we all headed to the registration centre. This was before the commencement of the academic year. The only questions the registration officials asked were their names, ages and addresses, nothing more. The officials knew they were new to the country but it didn’t matter. Education was all that mattered.

The registration officials were surprised to see the quantity and quality of subjects my children had done in Nigeria, hinting that the subjects were high for their ages. They said I could move them up to their next classes to match up with their level of knowledge but I said they should continue in the classes fit for their ages.

First day in school, my Gang returned home with personalised laptops with their names ingrained on them along with books and other learning materials. You surely can’t get that in any public back home in Nigeria. They also brought home chargers for their laptops and syllabi. If your parents can’t afford stationeries, you don’t have to worry, there are papers, erasers, calculators, pencils, pens, markers, crayons, photocopiers and printers, textbooks, highlighters, lab coats, goggles etc in class for students to use.

In middle school, Nigeria’s equivalent of primary school, pupils in the school club called Green Power built a race car which they used in competing in a car race involving other primary schools. It’s not a pangolo or cardboard car. It’s a real car with big tyres and engines akin to Formula One cars. One of my Gang members was a member of the club and I witnessed one such competition as a parent. The Green Power club is also available in High School, where they build more sophisticated cars and gadgets.

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The middle school also owns an 18-wheeler trailer used by its music band to convey musical equipment to music shows and competitions. Imagine!

On a calm weekend in 2019, my Gang told me to take them out to a skating park called Insanity. It wasn’t their first time at the park, more so, they had been skating way back in Osogbo. So, I felt no worries about taking them to the park. But going by the name of the park, I should have known better. A terrible fall and everything went insane.

Blood splattered everywhere on the rink, the mouth was badly impacted, and teeth were missing. It was unsightly. I gathered my boy in my arms, took him to the bathroom, and washed him up, but the blood didn’t stop. My Gang was in disarray.

But Prof, as his nickname goes, showed uncommon courage and stoicism. He didn’t cry, he was calm and coherent, holding rolls and rolls of paper towels to his bleeding mouth.

I should’ve called 911 and accident and emergency rescue officials, firefighters and the police would have flooded the premises in less than five minutes.

At that time, I didn’t know there was a Fire Service Department directly opposite the skating park which was beside the county’s police station. I was a confused J-J-C. When my wife saw the injury, she went berserk.

I called my church shepherd, Pastor Peter Oyediran, a registered nurse. He told me to bring Prof to the city hospital. Like a deer escaping from the ambush of lions, I throttled down to the hospital, mindful that I stood being pulled over and fined for speeding. May God bless Pastor Oyediran, who despite just getting off work when I called him, still came to the hospital with us.

The city hospital, which is equivalent to Nigeria’s General Hospital, was like a skyscraper made of green glass and gold. As we stepped feet on the premises, courteous and well-dressed medical officials took over. They put Prof on a stretcher and wheeled him away after getting his name, age and my phone number.

They put him on a bed in an examination room fitted with the best gadgets known to medicine. One by one, they explained to me that they were going to run a comprehensive check to see if there was any damage to his eyes, ears, brain, nose, skull etc before zeroing down on the primary place of trauma, the mouth. They said damage to any organ in the skull might need to be treated first.

I breathe the breath which dying Nollywood actors on sickbeds breathe to signify the end of life – uhnnnnnn, thinking if I was sold, the money I would fetch wouldn’t be enough to offset the hospital bills.

Doctors, nurses and various medical officials were smiling at me as they explained in detail each procedure they were doing. Before carrying out any procedure, they explained to Prof, too and got his consent just as they got mine. I was smiling the kind of smile kidnap victims smile when kidnappers cracked a joke.

As treatment was ongoing, two medical officials came to me and gave me a form to fill out. The form was a feedback mechanism designed to know what the patient or patient’s parent feels about the quality of medicare provided by the hospital.

Investigations completed, Prof was given the all-clear, leaving us with the teeth and mouth – which were treated. The hospital then referred us to a children’s dental hospital.

Before leaving the county hospital after more than two hours, I lumbered to the reception to collect the medical bill which I expected to send me into bankruptcy and slavery. The receptionist flashed me a smile and asked Prof how he was doing. I wrinkled my face in a smile, thinking ‘iku de!’. She said, “You can go.” I asked, “Go where?” thinking payment was done at another department. “You can go home, it’s free.”

I turned to Prof, “Let’s go, boy.” Alas, I found my voice. We made our way to the parking lot, with me praying for the receptionist not to call us back, saying, ‘I’m sorry, it’s a case of mistaken identity. You guys need to pay.’

We went back home and I fell on my face, thanking God. Prof later got treatment from the periodontist, who referred us to a private endodontist, whom we also visited for treatment. His teeth are now properly healed.

A few days ago, a former Editor of ThisDay newspaper and former Ogun State Commissioner for Information, Alhaji Yusuph Olaniyonu, wrote an article titled, “At 58, God has given me a second chance,” in which he narrated how an elective surgery in a government hospital nearly sent him to an early grave.

Olaniyonu wrote, “It all started on 19 February (2024) when I drove myself into a government hospital in Abuja for an elective surgery. The surgery itself was meant to last for a few minutes and I should return home not later than two days thereafter. That was what I was told. But that was not what happened.

“Since that fateful Monday morning, I have gone into and out of the surgical theatre nine times for six major operations and three minor procedures. I have spent six days in the Intensive Care Unit, surviving on oxygen and relieving myself through catheters. I have become totally dependent on others for the performance of even such personal functions as cleaning myself. I have lost 20 kilogrammes in five months and was reduced to a mere sack of bones. I have lost the use of my limbs and, like a toddler, I had to learn to walk again. I have spent millions of naira and thousands of dollars of my own and other people’s money. I have travelled hundreds of kilometres to find help. I have reached the very bottom of despair itself, and I had made plans for my own burial. But somehow, I am still alive.”

Like countless Nigerians who have been sent to untimely deaths, Olaniyonu was almost killed by a consultant urologist who misdiagnosed and mistreated a disease as common as a non-malignant prostate. Only heavens know what Mr Consultant would be teaching medical students and how many patients he had maimed and killed.

It was to Egypt Olaniyonu ran, where friendly and dedicated medical staff retied the thread of his life which hung in the balance, contrary to the unfriendly and shoddy treatment he received back home after paying exorbitant fees. Nigeria would have lost Olaniyonu, one of the nation’s finest journalists, to professional sloppiness, and nothing would have happened.

There is too much blood on the hands of the country’s medical professionals and it’s high time cases of negligence were brought to book.

Alhaji Olaniyonu, this case should not be papered over, please. The consultant urologist must be brought to book. If you, as a journalist and lawyer, do not ensure justice, who else would? Is it the uncountable okada riders and poor accident victims that would?

Alhaji, just imagine yourself in a bamboo casket, wrapped in white cloth, tied up, and lowered into a grave. From the grave, look at your beautiful wife, Odunayo, and your sons, Oladapo, Oladipo and Oladepo, all wearing black, and doing dust-to-dust. Is that how all your earthly ‘là á là, kò ó kò, jà án jà án’ would’ve come to an end through the shoddiness of one consultant?

I agree that humans came from God and unto Him we shall return – inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji’un – but the Quranic injunction does not say anyone should be sent to an early grave by sloppiness.

I brought out the educational and medical architectures available to a fresh immigrant family like mine in the US to show that our beloved country, Nigeria, is nowhere on the map of countries where leadership works democracy to provide abundant life for the good of the majority.

There’s nothing that fuels the ongoing national protest against bad governance than the glaring fact that a majority of the Nigerian populace has been reduced to slaves and scavengers in a country, whose resources have perpetually been cornered by subsequent leaderships that are richer than the Nigerian state.

I think the ongoing protest against hunger should continue because the Bola Tinubu administration understands the badness and goodness of protest. Tinubu himself led many protests against bad governance in the past. He knows protest is a landmine that could lead to anywhere and anything.

Nigerians don’t expect Tinubu to turn Nigeria into the US or Egypt but he should please leave it the way General Muhammadu Buhari left it in the throes of death, Nigeria should not die in Tinubu’s hands, please.

Asiwaju, you claim to be the builder of modern Lagos, have the building materials you used in building Lagos finished ni?

Please, do something, omo Olodo Ide, Nigeria is collapsing.

Email: [email protected]

Facebook: @Tunde Odesola

X: @Tunde_Odesola

Tinubu, Yusuph Olaniyonu and hunger protest

Opinion

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

Published

4 days 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.

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

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

Opinion

From warmongering to lie-peddling, Alapomu go explain taya

Published

5 days ago

November 22, 2024

Trends Admin

Tunde Odesola

From warmongering to lie-peddling, Alapomu go explain taya

Tunde Odesola

(Published in The PUNCH, on Friday, November 22, 2024)

Ankara needs no introduction; it’s the capital of Turkey, an Islamic country with a 99% Muslim population. Ankara needs no introduction; it’s the name of the brightly-coloured cotton fabric popular in West Africa. Ankara is the introduction. It marks out its wearer as a guest qualified for semo and plastic bowl at Nigeria’s owambe shindigs. Welcome, dear ankara – the uniformity cloth, clothing the lowly and the mighty at parties, like green leaves clothe móín-móín and èko, two edible kindreds, tumbling in embrace down throaty road.

Native to Ankara, Turkey’s second largest populous city after Istanbul, are the Angora goat, Angora cat and Angora rabbit, renowned for their extraordinary coats which are shorn and made into mohair, a globally prized source of cotton, with Angora being the westernised name for Ankara.

Yet, there’s another meaning to ankara. In Spanish, ‘encara’ means ‘still’, an adverb, whose synonyms include yet, nevertheless, nonetheless, notwithstanding, however, despite that, all the same, even so, in spite of etc.

On April 18, 2007, at 19 years of age, Lionel Andres Messi Cuccitini, football GOAT, during a Copa del Rey semifinal first-leg match between Barcelona and Getafe, singlehandedly dribbled past the entire Getafe team, leaving in his wake, players and goalkeeper biting the grass, with the commentator, Joaquim Maria Puyal, screaming, “ankara Messi, ankara Messi, ankara Messi, Messi, Messi, ankara Messi, ankara Messi, ankara Messi, gol, gol, gol, gol, gol, gol, gol, gol, gol, goooooooooooooooooo…”

From Barcelona’s right half of the centre circle, Messi got a short pass from Xavi and made a beeline for goal, ghosting Getafe players, who fell over themselves like bags of beans, making the commentator scream, “ankara Messi, ankara Messi – meaning: ‘still Messi’, ‘still Messi’, ‘still Messi’, as each Getafe player tumbled and the entire stadium stood on edge, frenziedly watching if the charging GOAT was going to miss or score. The GOAT did not miss. He scored the greatest Goal of All Time. And the whole stadium – Barcelona and Getafe fans – erupted in ecstasy.

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Gripped by the pulsating dribbling run that produced Messi’s goal, the Catalan radio commentator, Puyal, mispronounced ‘encara’ which means ‘still’ in Spanish as ‘ankara’, thereby gifting football lexicon a new word. If you’re in doubt, please, google ‘Ankara Messi’.

I’m ready to put my neck on the chopping block at Ìmògún, the ancient place of skulls, if any of the three following assertions is wrong. One: Ankara, Turkey’s capital city, is not unfamiliar to the Alapomu of Apomu, Oba Kayode Adenekan Afolabi. Two: The Igbákejì Òrìsà is not unfamiliar with ankara, the popular fabric; and three, the stylish Alapomu is not unfamiliar with designer clothes made from Angora furs.

But, by the king’s insistence on standing his ground even though he’s standing on quicksand, the crown may tumble into the gutter of politics. It’s evident the kabiyesi believes that a lie vehemently told possesses the capacity to become the truth after some time like a lizard becoming a crocodile after eating. His rejoinder to the viral video of his call to arms screams, “A bad excuse is better than no excuse.”

Since public outcry trailed the video of Oba Afolabi, in which he personally called for violence in the 2023 Ayedaade/Irewole/Isokan House of Representatives election in Osun, Afolabi has remained as tenacious as Messi, trying to dribble out of the odium his indiscretion has landed him.

This is the badly-worded rejoinder the king sent to The PUNCH: “ALAPOMU IS NOT A WAR MONGER – Alapomu Media Aide.

“The attention of Oba Kayode Afolabi, the Alapomu of Apomu has been drawn to an opinion written by a Columnist titled “Apomu King turns war monger for PDP” published in a national newspaper.

“A statement made by his media aide, Tolu Adetunji said Oba Afolabi is not a war monger but a man of peace. He said the article is biased, prejudiced, subjective, one sided opinion which is not based on facts but on a video which the King has refuted in many national newspapers and online publications.

“The refuttal was made shortly after the video went viral nearly a week ago” according to the Media Aide.

“In the refutal the King said the video was doctored to bring his reputation down in the eyes of the right thinking members of the society.

“Based on the rebuttal, the Media Aide said “anyone who wants to do a story or write an opinion on the video should be fair and objective by balancing the story with the king’s official response to the video.”

I won’t bore you by reproducing all the incriminating assertions the Alapomu made while gassing at the empowerment programme by the incumbent House of Representatives member for Ayedaade/Irewole/Isokan federal constituency, Lanre Oldebo, recently. I’ll take just a paragraph of his speech.

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Oba Afolabi, “I said, Mao, if the election turns to war, so be it; if it turns to combat, so be it. No one can cage the king but God. I told Mao that at all costs, I am solidly behind him – go and unleash absolute violence – this candidate (Lanre) MUST win the election. Then the situation snowballed into “Ta! Ta! Ta! Ta! Ta! To! Ta! Ta! Ta! Ta! Ta! We thank God the effort yielded good fruit…”

May it please your kingship, Oriade, to know I did not remove one ‘ta’ from the 10 ‘ta-ta-ta’ and the one ‘to’ you said to describe what followed your battlecry. This is because I do not want to misquote your majesty.

Being a commoner in conversation with royalty, I need to minimise my excitement and maximise this opportune moment of man-god correspondence because the bull is no mincemeat to be hit twice by the hunter’s arrow, a kìí rí efón ta léèmejì.

The more I watch the video, the more I’m confused as to the motive of the kabiyesi coming out more than one year after the electoral heist, to publicly admit his role in the coup. I’m confused because the kabiyesi is a man of integrity; he wouldn’t say such a thing for money.

I sincerely feel pity for the kabiyesi because the video pinned him against the wall. Going by the language of his rejoinder, he didn’t really want to start a media war but he needed to say something, and by saying something, he impugns my own integrity, leaving me with no option than to spit out the salt and the fart. Omoye has run into the market naked, the flowery ankara clothe is of no use to her.

Kabiyesi, I know the APC are no saints. They cheat, shoot and maim, too. They have kings in their pockets, too. But every infraction on public integrity should be condemned fiercely as this is being condemned.

Oba Alapomu, you said, “Anyone who wants to do a story or write an opinion on the video should be fair and objective by balancing the story with the king’s official response to the video.”

What a cheeky statement! Kabiyesi, I advise you should just squarely face the warmongering duties you’ve taken on behalf of your party, the PDP, and leave elementary journalism alone.

Alayeluwa, I guess those around you, who have passed by a newspaper house in their wakabout peregrinations, are the ones telling you I must ‘balance’ my article, “Apomu king turns warmonger for PDP,” with your baggage of lies.

Kabiyesi, let me throw this in real quick, it might help your understanding of journalism. Sir, journalism is a profession based on truth, fairness, equity and justice. You lost the moral authority to call for balance when you gathered the balls of the APC in your hands and sharply pulled them backwards. Ouch!! You know it hurts. As the saying goes, “He who comes to equity, must clean with clean hands.” Igbá Kejì Òrìsà, did you come with clean hands?

Alapomu, you also said the video of your shenanigans was doctored. Please, kabiyesi, with due respect, ask enlightened people around you what is meant by, “He who alleges must prove.” Your Highness, the onus lies on you to produce the ‘authentic’ video, where you didn’t say all the things you said.

My Lord, I humbly challenge you to produce the video proving that I maligned you in any way. I am dead sure you can never produce such a video because any video you produce won’t only become an exhibit in court, it will also be subjected to forensic analysis as INEC, Police and the DSS will be joined in the case, and then, what the PDP cooked that burnt down the whole house would be revealed.

Kabiyesi, sir, your laughable rejoinder mistook denial of an allegation for proof of innocence. That may be a royal way of thinking but it’s not the justice way of thinking. Truth doesn’t think like that.

I’ll advise the kabiyesi to just apologise (publicly or privately) for the viral outburst and treat all citizens as his children, going forward. But if the Oriade prefers media back-and-forth, I’ll hold steadfastly my truth to his sword.

By the way, instead of cheerleading the PDP, the kabiyesi can earn some foreign currencies from publishers of English dictionaries – Thesaurus, Longman, Oxford, Merriam-Webster, Cambridge and Collins – by patenting his own meanings of electoral violence, rigging, prebendalism, serfdom, injustice, vanity, intolerance and evil.

Email: [email protected]

Facebook: @Tunde Odesola

X: @Tunde_Odesola

Opinion

Apomu king turns warmonger for PDP

Published

2 weeks ago

November 15, 2024

Trends Admin

Apomu king turns warmonger for PDP

Tunde Odesola

(Published in The PUNCH, on Friday, November 15, 2024)

As a nobody son of a nobody, I dare not caress the blade of the king’s sword with the palms of my hands. Otherwise, blood shall trail my footsteps to Ìmògún, the ancient place of skulls, where the heads of the guilty and the guiltless tumble down the hill on the king’s inviolable order. In utter respect and total submission, I bow and tremble before the throne of Apomu! Who am I to look into the eyes of the gangster of Apomu, Oba Kayode Adenekan Afolabi? Èwò orisa!

As a commoner, I dare not disrespect the Alapomu. May Sango kill my bata drum and its accoutrements! I fear the king, I swear. May the king’s sword not be unsheathed from its scabbard before my very eyes, and stabbed into my very back – won ò ní ti ójù mí yo idà, kí wón tí èyìn mí kíbó. The mighty king kills who dares, aróbafín ni oba n pa! May my writings and agitation not kill me like Ken Saro-Wiwa. May the king not kill me.

Trembling – therefore – I maintain égbèfà distance near to the king; fearful – thereof – I move away from the king at égbèje distance because, in the land of Ódùdúwà, you dare and die – the king is the next in command to the gods.

In the land of Káárò Ójíire, nobody greets the king standing, we prostrate to greet the Alapomu, the almighty oba who gallantly fought on the side of the Peoples Democratic Party in the Osun House of Reps election war in 2023. K-a-b-i-y-e-s-i o!

Actually, I didn’t set out to write about the Alapomu in this edition. I had my mind set on the great Baptizer, sorry, I mean the great Balthazar of Equatorial Guinea Kingdom, Emperor Ebang Engonga (GCFR), who baptised over 400 women in the sea of his semen.

Because of its faraway distance, I was preparing to tread the spider’s web to Malabo, moving gingerly, ensuring my feet and hands did not get entangled in the naughty knots dotting the spider’s silky entrapment while trying to critique Balthazar.

But, a day before I was to write the Balthazar article, a bedlam suddenly arose over the viral video of the Alapomu in a Whatsapp group I belong to. I didn’t join the hullabaloo but took notice of the various press statements about the unkingly action of the Alapomu.

Most Whatsapp groups are madhouses with madmen and madwomen prescribing medications for madness. To maintain your sanity, you must know how to unstick yourself from the gummy madness online.

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The farmer’s calamity is the sparrow’s hilarity. I repeat, the farmer’s cause of weeping is the sparrow’s source of laughter. The sparrow’s belly, full of corn, draws scorn and baleful looks from the helpless farmer.

Journalism and quicksilver and shifting sands are all children of the same father called Dynamism. The life of a columnist is the fate of the Swiss watch – tick-tock, tick-tock without rest – life of news monitoring round-the-clock, and when you think you finally got a topic you want to write about, another bigger story breaks, belittling the story you’re exploring. When this happens, the columnist becomes a creative spider, webbing a potpourri of tales.

You will agree that Balthazar’s story should be a stand-alone tale. Balthazar is big. He’s an elephant, he needs space. And I figure the Balthazar story will still resonate throughout the year, so I can always come back to it, but the Alapomu story would soon be lost in the ocean of the tyranny our tyrant elite drown the masses.

Along the way, I had also given a thought to the interview by popular gospel musician, Yinka Ayefele, whose radio guest – a demented cannibal, claimed to have killed over 80 persons. Ultimately, however, I had to drop Balthazar and Yinka Ayefele, and hug the Alapomu.

Crowned only four years ago, the viral video of Alapomu’s verbal dysentery during a PDP empowerment event in his domain recently is both repulsive and shameful.

Fellow Nigerians, this is a translation of what the man called kabiyesi said in Yoruba, “I will tell you PDP members a secret: Go and take good care of your house because we do not know who the rival party will put forward (for the next election). If the rival party puts forward a strong candidate, and if there’s no unity in PDP, it can affect us. I always say something to people – you don’t know the value of your possession until you lose it. No matter what, let’s cherish our common interest.

“I’m using this opportunity to beg you (PDP members) to stand by Lanre (Oladebo). On the eve of his election, Akogun stormed my palace, and said, “Kabiyesi, you have been slammed to the ground.” I said, “Who slammed me to the ground?” He (Akogun) said, “It is Olufi (the King of Gbongan).” I said, “What? Olufi!? Olufi is my son! Gbongan was founded in 1793, the Olufi is junior to me, he should be calling me father. How can he slam me?

“Akogun spoke and maintained that the rival party had met.” I said, “Ha, the election is no longer between Lanre and Oluga, it’s now between Olufi and I, and I will show him (Olufi) that I’m his father. I had an elaborate meeting with Mao, who didn’t reveal the content of our meeting to you people. He (Mao) is right behind me here. (He looks sideways to his back where Mao was seated).”

Boasting of his indomitable powers, the Apomu ruler continued, “I said, Mao, if the election turns to war, so be it; if it turns to combat, so be it. No one can cage the king but God. I told Mao that at all costs, I am solidly behind him – go and unleash absolute violence – this candidate (Lanre) MUST win the election. Then the situation snowballed into “Ta! Ta! Ta! Ta! Ta! To! Ta! Ta! Ta! Ta! Ta! We thank God the effort yielded good fruit…” And the people hailed the king.

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Lanre Oladebo, the incumbent House of Representatives member representing the Ayedaade/Irewole/Isokan federal constituency, is an indigene of Apomu while his major rival in the 2023 election, Mrs Taiwo Oluga, an All Progressives Congress chieftain, whom Oladebo overthrew, is an indigene of Gbongan. Mao’s full name is Alhaji Lateef Adeniran. An ex-chairman of Isokan LG, Mao is also from Apomu.

The Ayedaade/Irewole/Isokan federal constituency has a history of producing women for the House of Reps seat, with a former Speaker, Mrs Patricia Etteh (PDP), and Mrs Ayo Omidiran (APC), representing the zone for two terms each before Oluga was elected in 2019, losing re-election in 2023 to Oladebo, a male.

The inadvertent revelation of the Alapomu confirms the ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-to-ta-po-pa that shot Oladebo to victory. What a king! What a country!

The ta-ta-ta-ta-ta king of Apomu is not an ápòdà; he’s educated, handsome and suave. But a king should not abandon the nobility of his throne to roll in the gutter of politics because, eventually, he would be like the old man, who ties corn cobs to his waist and is being chased about the village by chickens pecking at his Balthazar.

Apomu was a great community, historically. For about 400 years, Apomu was the economic nerve centre of the entire Oyo Empire of the 16th Century. Its strategic location as a land connecting various Yoruba inland and riverine communities, together with its proximity to resources, accessible roads and political stability, made Apomu the market of choice.

Because of the humongous wealth it generated, security was not discounted in Apomu. Guards were on alert in the land, securing lives and property. But one day, says Yoruba oral tradition, something strange happened to one of the guards, making him to flee the town, bequeathing to the Yoruba language this proverb that describes profound calamity, “Ìlóyá, oníbodè Apòmù, a kó o n’Ífá, a gbà á lóbìnrin, òpèlè tí kò bá wolé mú, ajá gbe e, ‘e bá mi mu, e bá mi mu’, ajá ko si kònga, ilé tí kò bá wò, ilé jóná.” Meaning: It’s time to go, declares the Apomu border guard, whose Ifa goodwill was stolen, and his wife was snatched. He rushes inside his house to get his Ifa oracle to divine why life is going awry, a dog snaps up his oracle. He runs after the dog, shouting ‘help, help’ ‘help’, the dog falls into a well, he runs back home only to find his house on fire.”

That wasn’t the only unfortunate incident in the history of Apomu. Apomu also witnessed the Owu War between 1820 and 1827. The war involved Ife and Owu over the control of Apomu, which was under Ife. The war which led to the destruction of Owu caused Owu indigenes to flee to present-day Abeokuta. The war arose over slaves and trade conflicts.

By boasting that kings are above every authority in the land except God, Afolabi arrogantly smashes the meaning of k-a-b-i-y-e-s-i on the head of decency while the police, DSS and INEC watch helplessly.

I know most traditional rulers are battleaxes and footmats of various political parties. But Apomu has an illustrious history. The Alapomu should stop stoking the embers of political war, he should lead with honour.

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