Why Official Corruption Won't Go Away In Nigeria

By Ugochukwu Ejinkeonye 

The Nigerian state thrives on a very a solid foundation and enduring, pervasive culture of very crude selfishness. Maybe, “selfishness” is not the most appropriate word to convey the exact meaning I have in mind.

But there is this consuming desire and deep craving by the average Nigerian to always have an unfair advantage over his neighbour, to ensure and emphasize the exclusive nature of whatever he does or possesses, and ultimately become the envy of others. 

(pix: online.wsj)

 This should, however, not be confused with healthy striving for excellence and distinction. Rather it is this mindset that makes someone to value whatever he has, only when he has established that no one else has it, or that only a select, privileged few have it.

I have observed that the average Nigerian derives peculiar animation, and in some instance, consolation, from constantly calling to mind some evidences of the advantages he has over his neighours, and some privileges he presently enjoys which his neighbour can only dream of.  
Mind you, this is not an exclusive habit of the affluent and highly-placed in society. Even the very marginal advantage the poor, suffering fellow thinks he has over his neighbour  automatically constitutes the little flame that keeps his heart aglow, and makes him feel like a king in the neighbourhood. He derives profound, refreshing feelings of joy by the fact that he has, and can, at least, flaunt what his neighbour doesn’t have.            

 Many years ago, when heavy traffic on Carter Bridge consisted of several new Raleigh bicycles racing along, some motorcycles and a couple of cars, a man returned to his village from Lagos, with a well tailored new dress, with which he hoped to cause a stir in Church the following Sunday. As his kinsmen converged to welcome him, he brought out the dress and told them he was sure no one had won that dress in the entire community.

How Much Thought Is Spared For these Labouring
Nigerians?


In fact, only very few people had at that time possessed it in the whole of Lagos! On Saturday, as he basked in the pleasant expectation of how he was going to be the centre of attraction in the small village Church on Sunday, he decided to take a leisurely walk towards the marketplace. Along the way, he saw an old wine-taper on an old rickety bicycle, heading to the market to sell his palm-wine. As the man got close, he discovered, to his utmost shock, that the man was wearing that same cloth he was hoping to flaunt on Sunday; but the difference was that the wine-taper’s own was now well-worn and terribly stained, meaning that he has been wearing it for months, ever before our Lagos man thought of purchasing his own. Indeed, he was thoroughly disappointed and pained. His flag of pride automatically dropped. The cloth instantly lost all its value and glamour, for the simple reason that a wine-taper had won it before him. And, so, he refused to wear it again.

That is the Nigerian!   I don’t know whether it was the British that planted this insidious seed in Nigerians or merely helped to water and tend it, for their own self-serving reasons. The British had created the Government Reserved Areas (GRAs) and several other segregating and divisive facilities, and took some special “natives”, the educated and privileged few, away from their own people, put them in those secluded areas and planted in them a mindset that made them regard themselves as “special” and “different” from the rest.

This may have helped them to perfect their divide-and-rule policy, but also succeeded in engraving in the minds of those lucky natives that they were indeed better than the others. And so, when the British unwillingly granted what they called Independence to Nigeria, they ensured that this iniquitous status quo remained. Through this privileged class which they had created and successfully alienated from their own people, the British still ruled Nigeria.
That is why our rulers live in fortresses, far removed from the people they claim to be serving.  In Nigeria today, a successful man is one who has “left the others” to join the privileged, eating class. In several cases, this may not be as result of hard work, but merely because the “lucky” fellow has some acquaintance with some other fellow in the corridors of power.

The truth we all know is that one may just start swimming in boundless opulence tomorrow just because he had got the “right connections”, which may merely be that he is a distant to cousin to the hairdresser of  the girlfriend of the ADC of one of our rulers. When that happens, the person quickly leaves his fellows behind to “join them” to enjoy. This situation exists in degrees and categories, as I mentioned earlier, and it has created a craving in everyone to strive, not just to better his lot, but to show how he is  “better” than he his neighbour. And that is why, at the slightest opportunity, anyone with access to the public till will seek to corner all the juicy advantages there to himself, and create another world of limitless comfort for himself which would automatically place him far above the rest of the people. This is the situation that produced the “big-man” syndrome.  

President Goodluck Jonathan and VP Namadi Sambo At
The Inauguration Party In Abuja


Recently, one of my ardent readers sent me an email to say that in Warri where he grew up, what they call these toy generators from China is: I-Better-Pass-My-Neighbour. So, when NEPA/PHCN envelopes everyone with impenetrable darkness, and those who have these toy generators put them on, they mean to demonstrate to their neighbours choking with thick, oppressive darkness that they are better than them. Yes, I better pass my neighbour!  

This mentality appears to be what guides the conducts of public officers in Nigeria. And when you look at the situation closely, you then begin to understand why Nigerians are suffering in the midst of plenty. For those in authority, it is a complete insult to suggest that the rest of the people should enjoy basic amenities like electricity, good roads, potable water and security. No, that would make everybody equal.

The GSM was a huge mistake that must never be repeated. Initially, they collected so much money from telecom operators and unleashed them on Nigerians to cut their necks with prohibitive prices, so that only the rich can afford GSM phones. But, the era of exploitation did not last. Globacom, just came into the market, overthrew the heartless, inhuman cartel, and today, the poor man in Lagos can call his poor mother in the village. Now, the rich can only emphasize their wealth by the number and type of expensive handsets they carry at the same time.    I-better-Pass-My-Neighbour.

That’s the mindset that rules the Nigerian ruler’s mind. There was a Nigerian ruler who was asked why he banned tokunbo vehicles during a phone-in radio/television programme. He did not know when he let out his grouse, which was that there were too many cars competing for space with his convoy on the streets of Abuja! “Everywhere in Abuja, what is you see is Golf, Golf!” he fumed. Now “Golf” is that Volkswagen vehicle thy call “pure water”, which the poor man, at his  own level, too, flaunts, to show that he is better than his waka-waka neighbour.

Now the Oga up there is not happy that private cars were becoming too common on our roads (even when the public transportation system is in such a chaotic state), that it was no longer the exclusive preserve of rulers and the rich, their children and cronies. And so, a ban had to be placed to put the poor back in his place, in the spirit of  I-better-Pass-My-
Neighbour.


   
   Olusegun Obasanjo: Nigerian President When
   This Article Was First Published


Today, the roads are so horrible that each time you ply some of them, you may have to visit your mechanic. But in order to rub in his marked difference from the rest of us,  President Olusegun Obasanjo does not use the roads to get to his home. Once he arrives at the Murtala Mohammed Airport, Lagos, a helicopter will pick him up and drop him gently on his farm in Ota. How else can his neighbours be made to know that the “big-man” was returning if not with the flourish that the helicopter noise ushers in? I-better-Pass-My-Neighbour! 

 So, in Nigeria today, instead of a ruler to provide social amenities to benefit for everyone, he uses public funds to create limitless advantages, privileges and comfort for himself, so that everyone looking at him, his wives and children would really realize how unlucky he was to not have been born into such a family.

That is why a state governor can have the heart to steal N126 billion from state coffers. While public schools here are left to decay, children of rulers are flown out of Nigeria to attend quality schools in Europe, America, South Africa and even Ghana; they hop across to see “their” doctors in far away Canberra to treat common cold, and go to Kuala Lumpur to see “their” dentist. Nigerian public officers steal so much money to buy themselves houses in France, UK and the United States. Yet they have not asked themselves how many Americans have homes in London or France, or even how many people born in Boston have ever visited New York, let alone own a home there.

People steal and accumulate even more than they would ever need, just to ensure that forever they can always say: I-better-Pass-My-Neighbour. 


Volkswagen Golf: Its Proliferation On Nigerian
Roads Threw The Ire Of The President


Like I said, this mindset is at play anywhere. Go to any embassy and see how Nigerian Security men employed there will treat you.

One day, while conducting an investigation for a story on the thriving visa racket at the British High Commission, I was reading a notice board outside the High Commission’s gate when a Nigerian Security man came and told me that I had stayed too long on the notice board and  should  leave. In fact, I had been there for less than five minutes. As I looked at him, flaunting his badge of slavery (uniforms), I knew exactly what was at play. He was working at the place where Nigerians scrambled to get visas to Mars, and I wasn’t! I-better-Pass-My-Neighbour.

 Until we kill this spirit, looting will never stop in Nigeria. The rulers would always ensure that mass poverty continue in the land because that is  the only situation that emphasizes how “lucky” they and their families and cronies are. That would also ensure that during elections, the poor can easily be manipulated with little gifts to sell-off their votes. In many countries there is nothing like “inferior” or “superior” hospitals.

Everybody, whether President, Governor, Senator, the jobless or school boy, is entitled to quality healthcare. But here, the craving is to show our advantage over others. Some even ensure they prepare their executive graves before they die, so that even in death, they would still be able to make the statement: I-better-Pass-My-Neighbour.

                                    -------------------------

First published in March 2006 in Ugochukwu Ejinkeonye's weekly column (SCRUPLES) on the back page of Daily Independent newspaper. 
 scruples2006@yahoo.com 

How I Joined The Nigerian Ruling (Eating) Class!

  [A Rejoinder To The Article: "How I Became A Prominent Lady"]

Dear Ugochukwu,

I thoroughly enjoyed myself reading the piece you published last week, captioned, “How I Became A Prominent Lady,” written by one of the  greatest and most patriotic   daughters of our great nation, a highly placed and well-respected lady who, incidentally, is a very close associate, my very good friend and fellow distinguished member of the nation’s political and ruling elite.

Even though you withheld her name (that was very thoughtful of you), I know her very well, and I can confidently tell you that she is a thoroughly groomed and well polished lady, totally above board, whose every action is motivated by an unfathomable sacrificial love for her country.

 

 I am thoroughly overwhelmed by her disarming humility which made her to stoop so low to tell Nigerians without blushing the various ‘sacrifices’ and ‘prices’ she had to pay on her way to join us in the Ruling Class from where she believes she would be able to serve her fatherland very well.  And on this, I can testify that she has acquitted herself very well.

 An example of her lack of vanity could be seen in the fact that despite our endless prodding and even harassment, she has bluntly refused purchase more than one house in London or another in the United States or even Dubai , even when some of us had offered to buy them for her. She is such a unique lady that naturally attracts kindness, and knows how to appreciate kind gestures too.

She is well loved among us, because she mixes very well, is always very cheerful and vivacious, has an exceptionally generous heart; and that is why she is excelling with incredible speed.  Eternally loyal, she could have dumped the Chief (on whose back she rode to fame and prominence) for a long time now without any fear of repercussions since she now has many other even more powerful political heavyweights around her, but her heart of gold would not let her hurt even a fly.  

 

As we talk now, the leaders of our great party in her geo-political zone have pencilled her down as the next deputy governor of her state, a move we at the national level have readily endorsed because of her profound integrity, moral soundness and our great trust in her ability to deliver with unrivalled speed. I was present recently when she launched her NGO to promote moral uprightness, honesty and hard work in youths.

 She is equally a very regular face at youth forums and ethical revival conferences where she draws from her wealth of experience and exceptional personal example to admonish her hearers on the dangers of cheating, waywardness and corner-cutting. She is indeed a role model, and it is good that many people, especially the young people now look up to her for direction and mentoring.

Please, permit me to follow her excellent example and also share my own success story before another lady beats me to it again, because, we have among  us many other successful ladies, whose ‘prices’ and ‘sacrifices’  on their way to the top would even greatly diminish my friend’s own. While at the University, which, by the way, I had entered with results obtained through very fraudulent means, academic work held no attraction for me.

 

I wanted to make money fast and live big. As I saw on television and newspapers these mostly thirty-something olds and early or mid-forty emergency billionaires who I was so certain I was more intelligent and more hardworking than, brazenly seizing the limelight, flaunting their opulence and throwing their weight about in a way that seemed to ask the poor to simply get lost, murderous thoughts welled up in me against anyone trying to disturb me with foolish questions about why I skipped classes or shunned my books.

 

Soon, I had to leave campus in search of something meaningful to do with my life before others left me behind in the lonely pit of grinding poverty. Fortunately, one day, a friend told me at the joint where we usually congregated to smoke weeds that an aide to a top and very powerful political figure was hiring ‘strongmen’ in preparation for the forthcoming elections.

 

 I immediately jumped at the offer. That singular move was to usher me into an exciting, easy life of limitless opportunities and cheap pleasures that I never imagined could just suddenly come my way. My ‘oga’ later came to know me more closely and to appreciate my special abilities and talents. I had a perfect understanding of my job, and never failed to deliver. I tried hard to suppress the fire of greed raging in me, and accounted for every kobo given to me. Although I was such a ruthless person, I was not foolish and so knew quite well that if I must attain my targeted height in politics, I must school myself to keep my greed in serious check.

  The Logo Of PDP --Nigeria's Ruling Party

Fortunately, I always delivered on all fronts with efficiency and precision, and equally acquitted myself well when in the business of ‘arranging’  very beautiful girls from the neighbouring Universities each time my ‘oga’ hosted dignitaries for top political meetings. Oh, there were always so much to eat, drink and enjoy, but I never forgot myself and what I was aiming at. My eyes were on the top, and any price was worth paying to get there.

 

My stars began to shine brilliantly when my ‘oga’ lifted me from the scummy pond of violent and murderous existence where I had wreaked tremendous terror as one of his most effective and ruthless thugs and promoted me to his personal aide, which enabled me to follow him to very important political meetings, where I met many other very highly placed Nigerians, many of whom also began to like me as time went on. Although, I could be such a ruthless and implacably destructive beast when any occasion required my exhibition of that aspect of me, I have this very warm, amiable and overly harmless personality that easily earns me the unreserved affection of many people.

 

Soon my ‘oga’ began to test me with money, several times, but each time, I surprised him by not falling. Unlike my colleagues who always allowed their greed to make them lose his confidence, I already knew I needed to keep mine on leash in order to win the undying trust of one those who decided the direction, future and how the resources of this incredibly rich nation were shared. Already, I had arranged a degree certificate for myself and managed to let it enter ‘oga’s ears that I was a graduate.

Before long, he began to trust me with bigger money, some of which I took abroad to deposit for him in designated accounts. I always resisted every temptation to run away or tamper with even the smallest part of them. My oga wanted to appoint me into the ministerial position allotted to him, but later changed his mind, and instead registered a company and appointed me its Managing Director/Chief Executive. And soon countless juicy contracts I never even knew when and how they were applied for began to pour in, and although we rarely executed any, we were usually paid in full upfront.

 

And because I had learnt early to keep my greed in check, I shared out the percentages as instructed, and paid them in the various bank accounts I was given, before taking the percentage allotted to me. And because we were so reliable and efficient, and did our business without any risks to our clients’ good names and political lives, business boomed amazingly. I became very rich as the company prospered. Soon, I began to hobnob with the high mighty from the president to governors, lawmakers, ministers, diplomats and fellow business magnates.

 

Billions of naira were always easily laundered through us without any hassles or incidents that could embarrass our esteemed clients, and we were always prompt to neatly deposit such funds into any accounts supplied by our clients in any part of the world. I have eventually  achieved my ambition of joining the ruling class, and boy, life up there is    just pleasantly exciting and really good!  Although, I am not holding any public office, I am, no doubt, part of the decision-making process since I am a generous financier and prominent member of our great party.

 

 The secret of my success, if I must restate that, was my commendable ability to continue resisting the temptation to tamper with my ‘oga’s money even when a lot of it was always with me and around me. Indeed, I was quite aware that he never bothered to even find out how much each ‘Ghana-Must-Go’ sack contained, or how much had been removed from a particular bag and how much remained, but I kept my cool. Well, if I must tell you also, highly influential and respected political stalwarts like my oga have no time to count money. Moreover, its uninterrupted flow into their houses, offices and bank accounts was always guaranteed, so why bother?

 

 Although, I wanted so much to be rich, I also desperately wanted to also secure the distinguished membership of the ruling elite, where I can help decide the direction and future of this country. And if I must achieve this, I knew it quite early enough that I required much patience, restraint and loyalty to one of the key custodians and sharers of the very sweet, richly garnished National Cake.

 

I was relieved when my ‘oga’ eventually shelved the idea of having me fill the ministerial slot allocated to him and instead established the flourishing company which I now manage for him. Although with such a highly influential personality of repute like my ‘oga’ behind me, all the Senate would have simply done if I had appeared for screening would be to simply ask me ‘Take A Bow!’ and move on, but I did not want the overwhelming searchlight such an event would most likely beam on my past. Moreover, I don’t trust you, journalists, Ugochukwu. One of you might come up with the crazy idea that I was a University dropout and so could not have earned the degree I was parading, or that I had unresolved cases with the police. So, I was glad to be spared that kind of exposure.

 Well, all I can say now is that I am doing incredibly very well. Although I have become very rich beyond my wildest imagination, with properties in countless choice spots in Nigeria and abroad and shares in blue chip companies around the world, I still have refused to do anything to make my ‘oga’ feel I have grown some wings and was now capable of being my own master. I have been very careful. His numerous women (mostly married), especially among the top echelon of our great party devour me daily with undisguised lustful attention, but I have refrained from letting them come between me and my very kind godfather. No, how can I be that stupid when countless women, including top actresses and models are throwing themselves at me?

 

Former Senator Iyabo Anisulowo was right after all!

 

Well, right now, I can confidently tell you that I am now and fully and perfectly established as a distinguished member of the ruling class and a stalwart of our great party. I sponsor candidates into high public offices and have continued to reap, in season and out of season, the juicy fruits of my endeavour. I have also taken practical steps to polish my personality and give myself an urbane, intellectual image. Recently, I got a backstreet (some say unaccredited) college in the United States to package an honorary doctoral degree for me at an impressive ceremony attended by highly placed Nigerians.

 

Do not be misled into thinking we are indifferent to corruption. In fact, my ‘oga’ was one of those who first mooted the idea of setting up very vibrant anti-corruption bodies in Nigeria to cleanse the country of corrupt elements. I can confidently tell you that it was his idea that they borrowed and set up what we have today as the EFCC and ICPC. And to his further credit, he has never failed to seize any forum available to him to denounce corruption and urge the anti-graft agencies to root out the monster that has ensured Nigeria is kept 100 years behind civilisation. All we want from Nigerians is patience; they should give us more time to deliver the democracy dividends. We are on course. We sincerely mean well for this country.

 

Who Cares About The Powerless Majority? More Than 80%
Of Nigerians Live  Below Poverty Level...

Ugochukwu, I am always amused each time you describe us in your column as a ‘Criminal Class.’ Apart from the fact this betrays your total ignorance of how government business is managed at this level in this country, I also think you are being very unfair to a body of distinguished, credible Nigerians with very impeccable records of invaluable services to their fatherland who spend sleepless nights thinking of how to move this great country forward and usher in an era of prosperity and massive development.

 

Well, next week, I will be presenting a paper (written for me by a retired professor who is on my payroll) at a high profile seminar in Abuja on anti-corruption and good governance, and I have already despatched an invitation to you. Be our guest and discover for yourself how determined we are to battle this monster of corruption to the ground. Surely, with Nigeria in our hands, the masses of this country would have cause to smile very soon.

 

Thanks for this opportunity to tell my success story despite your obvious unreserved disdain and fierce contempt for us.

We will eventually prove to you and several others that we mean well for this country.

 

Chief (Dr.) …… (Name Withheld)

Abuja, Nigeria

 

----------------------------

When Did Poverty Assume the Colour of Crime?

By Ugoochukwu Ejinkeonye  
 It was a normal news report in a not too recent newspaper; the type we are used to seeing regularly, but would, most likely, merely glance through before turning our attention to more ‘important’ matters. But when I saw this particular report, confined to a small corner of the newspaper, something about it spoke a very clear message to my heart.   

Under the heading, “Cow Thief Bags 12yrs Jail,” the report said that an Oshogbo Magistrate Court presided over by Mrs. Ayo Ajeigbe had sentenced a certain Mr. Audu Mustapha to 12 years imprisonment for stealing a cow belonging to one Julie Idi. The estimated cost of the cow was N60, 000. The police had accused Mustapha of selling the cow and using the proceeds to purchase a small truck with which he conveyed ‘liberated’ cows to either where he sold or hid them. 

Now, if Mustapha who had earlier served a jail term in Ilorin for a similar offence, does not have a powerful, well-connected godfather, especially, in the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP), or other equally criminally powerful places, he should, as you read this article now, be in one of our dilapidated and uninhabitable prison houses enduring the just recompense of his grave sin against the State, and dreaming about his young (and probably beautiful) wife and their three tender children.

Was The Cow 'Liberated' By Mustapha As Robust As This?

  I must hasten to add that nothing can justify Mustapha’s ungodly action. Even people poorer than he is are resisting the temptation to steal; he knew the dire consequences of his chosen career and still tarried in it, because, it had juicy promises of quick, undeserved wealth. Now, the excruciating day of reckoning is here, and he has no choice but to quietly savour the bitter reward of his criminal endeavours. I will only sympathise with his family if they were unaware that in order to put food on their table, Mustapha was cruelly dispossessing other people of their fat cows. This can only teach one lesson: when crime is punished, deterrence is instituted.  

Now, if that is always how all such cases end, society would really be a better place for all of us. While down here, we, in an impressive show of self-righteousness, may haul condemnations further down on Mustapha with every scorn and unmitigated rage befitting a common criminal, more discerning people would rather view him as an unfortunate victim of a disastrous accident on his way to the exalted circle of the nation’s elite class.

 I suspect that he did not bother to study the rules of the game very carefully and so may have easily run foul of a very important law of the game, namely: Thou shall not be too greedy.  What this means is that if he had generously ‘settled’ the OC’s at the checkpoint (All correct, Sir!), or even  ‘cleared’ with the DPO of all the police stations on his route, he would most likely had escaped the humiliating appearance before the learned judge in Oshogbo, even if he had stolen a human being! In fact, he would have been a free man today, doing his ‘honest’ business without let or hindrance, and even getting the opportunity once in a while (that is, if he prospers very well) to attend state banquets and shake the smooth, soft hands of the high and mighty, more so, if he had allied himself with some influential ‘responsible’ party elder in his community, secured a Molete-kind of immunity, and regularly donated handsomely to help the ‘great party’ secure its ‘fraudslide’ victories. 

The truth we all know today is that many of the people parading themselves as prominent Nigerians today climbed to the top through the Mustapha route or variants of it. At the risk of repeating myself, assuming Mustapha was not caught and disgraced this early in his career, and his business had thrived and he had been wise enough to invest his wealth in the installation of many of his less-successful colleagues in power, he would today be dinning with ‘highly distinguished and  honourable’ lawmakers, governors, foreign and local diplomats and even the president, and being invited regularly to chair high profile events where brilliant sermons would be delivered on integrity, transparency, anti-corruption and good governance – citing his exceptional industry and sterling honesty as  worthy of emulation by today’s youths.  



But, while he would now languish in jail for twelve years for stealing a cow that sells for about N60, 000, very important convicts like Big Tafa, Governor-General Alams and Boy George got a few months’ ‘rest’ each in cosy prison suites for playing around with the nation’s billions. And many of their more daring colleagues in criminal accumulation are still out there throwing expensive parties and hobnobbing openly with the nation’s rulers whose ‘zero-tolerance for corruption’ is universally acknowledged!  

Something must be wrong with a nation that severely punishes small thieves and celebrates bigger criminals.     

In 1999, Gen Olusegun Obasanjo, whose farm had failed, was practically a poor man, and he did not hide it. One of his closest aides had even told the nation that what the man had in his account was only N25, 000. But now, as former president, his Bells University and Secondary School is valued at billions of naira. There is also his multi-billion naira farm, a couple of other companies and investments, a Presidential Library Project for which billions of naira were raised through a method Prof Wole Soyinka aptly described as “Presidential extortion”, and his famed bottomless pocket which has effectively crowned him as one of the richest billionaires this side of the Atlantic.  

Indeed, until a decent and patriotic leadership emerges in Nigeria , Obasanjo would never be compelled to explain the sources of his mysterious wealth, or how $16 billion spent on well-advertised power projects only plunged Nigerians into deeper, thicker darkness. Nor, will anyone ever ask Gen Ibrahim Babangida (who is scheming to rule Nigeria again) how $12 billion suddenly developed wings and flew away right under his nose as military president.    
As cases of suspected graft (and they are legion) are swept under because the calibre of the persons involved, impunity is effectively entrenched. Influential Nigerians abound whose sources of boundless wealth are shrouded in very deep mysteries. Nigerians know many of them and quietly dismiss them as Very Important Criminals (VIC), but the government and even the media celebrate them as ‘statesmen’ and ‘patriots’.  

Unlike Mustapha, they were able to avoid being caught early in their career until they amassed enough wealth to qualify for admission into Nigeria ’s privileged class of untouchables.  Some of them even get National Honours and are appointed or ‘elected’ into highly exalted positions of power and influence, where they characteristically help immensely to deregulate and institutionalize stealing and political corruption.  

What all these go to show is that in Nigeria , it is, perhaps, safer and more rewarding to be a successful criminal than a poor man – which is very saddening indeed.  

Successful criminals are either in power or its corridors, or friends and associates of those in power. They are those set of ‘law-abiding’ citizens who are able to purchase and build palatial homes in ‘approved’ places. But the poor are the confirmed criminals, always hounded and oppressed by the government, for being able to only afford to seek refuge in the slums, which governors, ever thumbing their noses at them, have either sacked or already marked out for demolition and prompt reallocation to the same members of the privileged class.  

We all know that it is usually the honest poor that get arrested on the mere suspicion that their haggard, hungry looks suggest they might be criminals, or even for such non-existent offences like ‘wandering’, and dumped and forgotten in detention camps for being unable to buy their freedom.

Yes, they are the same people that suffer most the consequences of bad roads (they can’t afford to fly), power failure (they can’t afford healthy alternatives), insecurity  and increases on the price of petroleum products, which in turn jack up prizes of goods and services. In Nigeria , where crime is class-defined, poverty has since been criminalized. The rich only get into trouble when they are on the wrong side of the power equation, and their ‘trials’ are celebrated to prove the point that “no one is above the law.” 

 If you, dear reader, don’t know all these, then you hardly know anything yet about Nigeria .
———————————————————————
scruples2006@yahoo.com

August 2010

Enough Of The Obasanjo Family, Please!

(First Published November 26, 2008)

By Ugochukwu Ejinkeonye           

Last Saturday (Nov 22, 2008) I wanted to purchase a copy of Bitter-Sweet: My Life With Obasanjo, by Mrs. Oluremi Obasanjo, the woman who is sparing no effort just to underline her belief that no matter what anyone, including even Gen Olusegun Obasanjo himself, thinks is the case, the truth she would want everyone to see and swallow is that among the countless women swarming the Obasanjo harem, she is the only one qualified to be called his wife.  Others, she insists, are mere concubines.

To buttress this point, she reminds us on page 91 of Bitter-Sweet, that while broadcasting the profiles of leading members of the Obasanjo junta just before he handed over power to Alhaji Shehu Shagari in 1979, “the NTA showed me, and my husband, and our five children then, as the officially recognized and properly married wife, the wife of his youth he swore to keep forever.”

When I called the number on the invitation card for the public presentation of the book (which I didn’t attend), an elderly female voice told me to go to James Robertson Street in Surulere, that I would get the book there. In Surulere last Saturday, especially, on Adeniran Ogunsanya Street, and virtually all the other streets in the area, including Ogunlana Drive, Masha Road, and James Robertson, I encountered one of the worst traffic situations Lagos may have experienced since it began to exist, which served as painful reminder of the abysmal failure of character and leadership that had distinguished the eight-year reign of the subject of the book I was taking all the trouble to purchase.

As the traffic situation worsened, I abandoned the car in one of the streets, jumped onto an okada, and in no time, was in James Robertson Street. Since I needed to get an additional copy for someone, I bought two copies – one hard cover (N3, 000) and soft cover (N2, 000), and there went N5, 000 which I now sincerely believe, after reading the book, could have been invested in a more rewarding and edifying venture!

Now, forget the sensational reviews of the book you may have encountered so far since it was presented to the public at a very poorly attended ceremony in Lagos a fortnight ago. The book contains only very insignificant, highly biased items that could be considered new to what the public already knew about Obasanjo; there is hardly any information therein with the capacity to shock or awe; nothing really exciting, enlightening or edifying about the subjects treated in the entire book. The public appears to have more than it offers.  

Mrs. Oluremi Obasanjo At The Public Presentation 
Of The Book In Lagos

The book is all about a woman’s attempt to rewrite herself into prominence and reckoning in one man’s life, to demonstrate, albeit incoherently, that no matter who the public saw starring with Obasanjo in all those days he hugged the limelight   as Nigeria’s ruler, it was she, Oluremi, that the man regarded as the central figure in his life, despite the countless battering she got from him; that it was she who turned down the offer to live with him in Ota; that her decision to stay apart left a huge void in his life; that he was always pleading with her not to leave him alone; and that despite his brutal actions   towards her, he loved and respected her and only kept the other women as “ponies.” Although, it is known that the author and her husband were separated at some point in time (and she keeps talking, about “when I  was kicked out”) the strength of the book lies in her ability to leave the reader in total confusion about when exactly this happened, how long it has lasted, or whether it has been intermittent.

Instead, greater energy was devoted to show the prominent role she continued to play in Obasanjo’s life, playing down the separation and reducing all the other women to mere fringe elements in Obasanjo’s life. Dripping from the pages of the book is the undying love she retained for her man, and her willingness to receive him back any time he returned from his boundless wandering through countless skirts. The author’s bitterness towards late Stella was so palpable; it could not be assuaged even by her death. And the way she always gleefully announced the misfortune that met the several people that did her hurt speaks volumes about the nature of her heart. And despite all she suffered from Obasanjo (including being detained on Obasanjo’s instructions at the Lafenwa Police Station, “stripped to my underwear”), she, like Carol McCain, still loved him. But she makes a touching confession on page 64: “He is the only man I have known all my life … So when I found out his philandering exploits, I regarded it as the unkindest cut for his breaking   the sacred vow we took at the London Registry.”

Olusegun Obasanjo: The Man At The Centre Of The Storm

He went further to say that due to this multiple sleeping partners his wife was generously hosting with immense relish, he required a DNA test to establish the paternity of the children born to him by his wife, since he was not sure any more who among the three had fathered them. What a family! My heart surely goes out to those hapless tender children, who never asked to be born into the badly mismanaged Obasanjo family, and who would grow up tomorrow to grapple with the serious debilitating doubt over their paternity, raised by no other person than the man they call their father.    

Iyabo Obasanjo: First Daughter Of The Marriage

Senator Iyabo, on her part, is always in the news for the most horrible reasons. When she is not transacting very controversial and ugly deals with a name other than her own, she is being accused of mismanaging committee funds in the Senate. In fact, a newsmagazine once called her on its cover, “The Queen of Scandals,” a tag her mother on page 123 of the book thinks does not befit her daughter. Rather, Oluremi thinks her children are all unfairly having image problems because of “the name, Obasanjo.” And so, the attempt by the EFCC to get Iyabo to explain her role in the scandal involving the Senate Health Committee fund was all done “in a bid to humiliate her because she is Obasanjo’s daughter.” Iyabo, she maintains, was not appointed Ogun State Health Commissioner because she was Obasanjo’s daughter, but rather she had worked hard to earn it. I suppose she expects anyone to believe that?

My problem with this book is that it is a needless effort to advertise raw bitterness. And it would end up dishonouring the same children she loves and defends. But what sickens me most is her attempt to exonerate her children from matters in which the public is even in possession of superior facts. What it tells me is that if Obasanjo had not kicked her out of his life, she would also have been out there today defending him against Nigerians who dared express   disgust at the unmitigated disaster and organized banditry he effectively supervised for a whole eight years in Nigeria, during which corruption was effectively institutionalized and celebrated,  and  the country ruined.  

For her, so long as a person is in her good books, the person can do no wrong. So, why should I bother myself about such a person and her book?

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scruples2006@yahoo.com

Poor Poetry, Rich Deceit: Is POETRY.COM The Most Lucrative Scam In American Poetry?

By Ugochukwu Ejinkeonye 
In Nigeria, it is called O.B.T. (Obtaining By Tricks). But in America, it is known as Better Business. In Nigeria, they are not registered; they operate under the shadow of darkness. But in America, they are duly registered and given a clean bill of health by the Better Business Bureau (BBB). 

In Nigeria, they are abhorred and isolated by decent society, but in America, they have on their pay roll America’s accomplished poets and professors who use their hard-earned reputation to polish their image. Also, a bevy of lawyers work for and with them. And their business is “legal.” But each time they stretch forth their hands and reach out for the jugular of unsuspecting victims, they leave in their wake excruciating pain, sorrow, loud cries, and bitter anguish.

Dr. Len Roberts
ISP Educational Director

In the State of Maryland, United States, there is a body called the International Library of Poetry (ILP), or POETRY.COM or the International Society Of Poets (ISP) or as they have begun to also answer recently, LULUPOETRY.COM. All they are after is your money, which they get by flattery and lies. And if you are enticed by their carefully worded letters, then you will tell the story of your penury with hot streaming tears! 

But to Grace Cavalieri of the Poetry Faculty of St. Mary’s College, Southern Maryland, one of America’s nationally known poets, who unabashedly associates with this poetry body, ILP is “run by good people” and “honorable people.”

But let’s hear Theresa Coleman, one of the victims of ISP/ILP/POETRY.COM. She told Charlie Hughes, a US poet of repute and owner of Wind Publications who has been monitoring the activities of ISP/ILP/Poetry.com, (quoted here with Charlie Hughes’s permission): “I am a disabled Veteran and live on a very small pension and Social Security Disability pay. I had to borrow the nearly $1,500 to attend this conference (ISP Conference). It will take me over a year to pay all the money back. Not to mention, I did not have clothing suitable for such an event, so there went another $300.00! …There were hundreds of us… I cried like a baby after realizing that I was just ripped off, knowing how long it will take me to pay back all the money I borrowed…

Organizations like this SHOULD NOT be permitted to continue preying on innocent people and robbing them of money most of us didn’t have and had to borrow …I cannot express the deep, emotional anguish this has caused me…I almost feel like suing the BBB (Better Business Bureau, whose approval rating of ILP/ISP/POETRY.COM helps people get caught in their trap)… Now I am so angry with them that I cannot express how badly I would like to choke every one of those rip-off artists! …I am totally appalled that they have remained in business for so long” (Coleman’s testimony).

Fleda Brown: Professor of English and
Delaware Poet Laureate

 Like Coleman, we too are totally appalled that ISP/ILP/POETRY.COM has remained in Business till now. Unfortunately, American laws have no succour for the likes of Coleman. And there are thousands like her, bleeding at all corners, after an encounter with ISP/ILP/POETRY.COM.

Now why would this poor woman plunge herself into debt to attend an ISP conference? Well, she is one of the several victims of ISP/ILP/POETRY.COM grand lies and deceit, who are made to believe they had won some big money, and lured into paying the conference registration fees which Professor Fleda Brown, another poet who associates with ISP, admits is “very high”.                                                              

     

        
                                                             

David Wagoner: Former Chancellor, Academy
 of American Poets

Len Roberts, a brilliant US poet and professor of English at Northampton Community College, was hired about five years ago as ISP “Educational Director”. With his reputation and ISP’s fat accounts, he hires America’s best poets to speak at ISP conferences.         

Some eminent literary figures like  Professor Stephen Dunn (Pulitzer Prize winner),
 Grace Cavalieri,  Dr. Herbert Woodward Martin, Professor Fleda Brown (Delaware  Poet Laureate), W.D. Snodgrass (1960 Pulitzer Prize winner) Lucille Clifton,  Robert Winsky, etc. also associate with ISP and their names are used to  purchase respectability for ISP’s unwholesome trade.


W.D Snodgrass
Pulitzer Prize Winner


Roberts told this writer that most of the complaints about ISP occurred more than five  years  ago, before ISP hired him. But Theresa Coleman got her bitter deal from ISP in 2000!

Roberts insists: “The only valid complaint I find among all these criticisms  is that the phrasing of ISP’s letter is misleading.”  Now what does ISP gain by misleading people? Simple! To make them believe they have won some money in order to lure them to the conference for which they would pay ISP as much as $702.00 dollars as  registration fee. By their own admission, in 2002 alone, not less than  2,500 people got into their trap. This way they can comfortably give  away $74,000.00 to 36 “poets” and still smile to the banks with their millions. So, contrary to the claims in a recent feature article in a Nigerian  newspaper, ISP holds elaborate conventions where interesting lectures are delivered on poetry by nationally acclaimed poets and university  professors. More importantly, it pays all the prize money as advertised. Only  it achieves that by robbing Joseph to pay Josephine.



Grace Cavalieri:Award-Winning American Poet
And Playwright

 The ISP professors maintain that only those who fail to win prizes complain after the convention. But Charlie Hughes disagrees. “Those people who are disgruntled with ISP convention are not disgruntled because they lost a contest. They are upset because facts were misrepresented to them in order to lure them to the convention,” he told this writer.
Now how can America whose press regularly malign other countries, and whose government regularly issues negative reports about select  countries, including Nigeria, allow an outfit like the ISP/ILP/POETRY.COM to go on “legally” inflicting pain on hapless folks and raking in millions in the process? Their Educational Director has admitted that the “phrasing of ISP letters is misleading”.


So, is there no law in the United States capable of stopping person(s) and institutions from continuing to deliberately circulate misleading letters with the sole aim getting at people’s money and plunging them into huge debts? Even if they have snaked their way through some legal loopholes to make their activities remain “legal”, can’t the US authorities listen to the anguished cries of all their victims and clamp down on them in public interest, as has been done in Nigeria here with even organizations like Umanah I. Umanah’s Resources Ltd in Port Harcourt, whose activities had not even begun to cause any harm to anyone, but was seen as potential time bomb?

       

Dr. Herbert Woodward Martin: Mellon Poetry Prize
Winner

This writer tried to make inquiries about ISP at the Public Affairs Department of the United States Consulate in Lagos, but was told to go to the ISP website, as they do not have any information about them. Also, in June 2001, following “dozens of complaints” it had received, WritersWeekly.com forwarded information to the Maryland State Attorney General about the activities of ILP/POETRY.COM. Now, this is July 2005, what has happened?

Is ISP a sacred cow, beyond investigation? Is it because of its fat taxes?
So what really is the sin of ILP/ISP/POETRY.COM? On their website, they call for poems. Any trash you submit is an instant hit. Then you will automatically become a poet with “unique vision” and great talent, certified by their  “Acceptance Committee” as semi-finalist and eligible for publication in an anthology that costs $59.95 plus another $8.

One Of The Several "Awards" Dished Out By POETRY.COM


And if you want a 150-word introductory note to appear with your “poem”,  you will pay another $25.00. Well, whether you pay or not, your “poem” will still be published. But, of course, many buy several copies out of joy that they are featured in an anthology. So regularly, they churn out these anthologies filled with near rubbish just to get at the money of any one that submits just anything.

Then after this stage, a certain Steve Michaels enters with a letter informing you of your nomination as Poet of the Year. The letter starts with some sort of announcement in front of an imaginary crowd declaring you the Poet of the Year and winner of the grand prize of $20,000! The purpose is to make you believe when you now read of your nomination that you have won the prize. All effort is deployed to make the letter (also sent out to more than a thousand others) appear personal and exclusive to you in order to lure you to register for the conference.

What is the necessity for this deception? What is really happening? Professor Fleda Brown explains: “almost every one who submits poems is ‘accepted’, so they should not understand their invitation as any particular honor”.

But how would these hapless souls know that letters coming from ISP/ILP, an organisation that parades the cream of America’s poets and intellectuals on their website is worthless, not indicative of any honour? Note that, their victims are mostly barely literate “poets”, who are prone to misunderstand letters that have continued to dribble even college graduates!

(Prof. Roberts, ISP Educational Director, is a most charming fellow, as Charlie Hughes confessed to this writer. After a series of interactions in the process of preparing this article, this writer was so affected by Roberts’s personality and manners that he almost gave up writing this article. Apart from his reputation as a distinguished poet and academic, this other personal quality may have influenced the decision of ISP to hire him for the job. He is always handy to charm aggrieved “poets” into silence with his warm personality, beautiful diction, and style.)




Stephen Dunn: Pulitzer Prize Winner

Now, the next in the web of deceit comes from Nigel Hillary of Noble House Publishers with another set of lies and flattery. 
ILP//POETRY.COM subscribes to a Privacy Policy. So, how then does Noble House get people’s addresses and other details in order to write them to announce they had read their poems in the United States and now wished to publish them in the UK also?

Is Noble House just ILP/ISP/POETRY.COM in another name, since both are only all after your money? A question of Esau’s hand, Jacobs voice?

Both flatter you to high heavens with unspeakable lies about a poem they have not even read, which may even contain terrible errors that cannot be accommodated by even poetic license! At the end of the day, you will still be the one to “edit” your "poem."




The Bright Face Of Scam In  American Poetry
------------------------------------------------


In its commitment to publish just any trash, look at ILP’s output posted on its website and compiled by Theresa Coleman:
*In 1997, they published 44 anthologies of “poems”;

*1998, they published 78;

1999,  52 came out (that is, one a week!);

*2000, they had published 46…as of August)…
Source: http://windpub.com/literary.scams/bigmoney.htm).

The Editor of the page estimates that with these publications, the ILP is richer with about $9 million dollars each year at just $50.00 per book. But by this writer’s estimate, based on ISP letters and documents available to him, they realize $84.95 plus additional $8.00 from each “poet” who orders just a copy of their book.

Also, “Greater Maryland Business Bureau reports that ILP has 500,000 customers each year. If only half purchase a single book, that’s $12.5million”! Hughes, also a publisher of long-standing, told this writer that based on his experience as a publisher, the production cost of an ILP book cannot be more than $10.00.

The question is: Can the ILP/ISP/POETRY.COM enjoy a conducive climate in Nigeria? The answer is obvious and it is No! Now, in America, truth is: no one can stop ILP/ISP/POETRY.COM. So, for now, the only way to avoid their trap is: don’t send them a poem; don’t believe anything their letter says. Take time to read them, as Roberts says, and realize that despite all it may say, it is not informing you that you have already won a prize, rather, you are only being invited to a conference where you will then compete for a prize. All the deceptive and flowery language is solely meant to lure you into registering for the conference.

Or, as Ms. Cavalieri says: “Come to learn poetry and have fun at the convention, not to win money.”

Well, tomorrow, American officials will still come down here to sermonize about Nigerians “who obtain money by tricks (OBT or 419)” But can’t anyone out there stand up to them and yell: “Physician, Please, Heal Thyself First? Our boys are merely apprentices of their big brother in Baltimore,  Maryland?”

Well, the fault may after all be ours: We gave room for those patronizing insults. Instead of registering our own equivalents of ISP/ILP/Poetry.com in Nigeria, we blacklisted them!

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Interview With The Dramatis Personae

Charlie Hughes

...Ugochukwu Ejinkeonye Interviews Charlie Hughes, Owner of Wind Publications, And Unyielding Critic Of POETRY.COM/ISP/ILP 

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Len Roberts

Ugochukwu Ejinkeonye Interviews Dr. Len Roberts, Poet, Professor Of English, And ISP Educational Director 



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scruples2006@yahoo.com
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