Nigeria is in a state of political fear, with most people exhibiting overwhelming, unmanageable anxiety at the turn of affairs. It is this fear that leaders, at various levels and not only the Presidency, must urgently seek to assuage. I counsel that we conquer our fear by keeping a cool head. This means boldly facing our fears, examining the evidence of what fuels the fears, and then visualizing an outcome that moves us from fear to action against enablers of the current national anxiety.
Something funny happened before we left church service last Sunday. The priest was getting up to announce the dismissal when a young man got up and made straight for the lectern. The priest sat down again, and we groaned inwardly. The announcements were becoming a time burden, after the harvest hour. But his case was different. The young man asked a question and, instantly, a young lady shot up her hands. She got the microphone.
The question was, “if we hear the sound of gunshots or other commotion outside our church gate, what will you do?” The answer the young lady gave had everyone rolling on the floor.
“I will walk out with my hands in the air and surrender to them!” she said.
The young man who asked the question chaired our church’s security committee. For the next 40 minutes, he took us on a security lecture, explaining how to manage the disaster that holds Nigeria hostage in these dying days of the Buhari presidency. At the end of it all, we left the church with mixed feelings. You could read fright from some faces. Other faces betrayed disgust and anger.
As for me, my feelings were a mixture of sadness and anger. I was sad that Nigeria has once again come to a political crossroads. Citizens are unable to make up their minds which path to take. Both the leadership and aspirants have not provided light. I was angry at the way the young man presented the issue – a matter of presentation style. He ended up stoking the fear that people have been suppressing.
I was not happy with the presentation style because it is always difficult to think clearly when fear consumes one. Even our leaders in government have started to exhibit fear. We are becoming paralyzed and incapacitated as we live with a sense of foreboding. This incapacity to think clearly has thrown us into political hysteria, leading to unfair mutual accusations of treachery. Suddenly, we talk, write and function as if everyone is an enemy. The Fulani is an enemy. Muslims are enemies. Christians are devils. Igbo are enemies. Yoruba are the foe.
To think clearly about our current situation requires that we ask and answer four major questions. What are the sources of our fear? Are they justified, based on hard evidence? What positive outcome can we visualize from the evidence? And how do we work to realize this positive outcome and conquer our fear?
Everywhere we turn to these days, the talk is that Boko Haram and ISWAP have laid siege to Abuja and might strike any moment now. We have rogue herdsmen boastfully proclaiming to kidnap victims that their criminal enterprise is a dress rehearsal for jihad. Minorities look askance at the oppressive Big Three who have, once again, cornered the three most viable party tickets. How will they fare under another regime of big brother? Northern Christians look at the injustice of passing them over to choose a Muslim to pair with another southern Muslim. They are asking what this means to faith tolerance and peaceful coexistence. The awa lo kan mindset grips politicians west, north and east. It has led to desperate promotion of regional and ethnic excitement in geographic and faith spaces. Citizens use marginalization and zoning concepts to pose questions about the place of justice and fairness in our democracy.
These are some of the sources of our current anxiety. They fuel doubts, mistrust, and anger over one thing: the potential outcome of the 2023 elections. We are not fearful because of the onslaught of terrorists, bandits, kidnappers and rogue herdsmen. These are legitimate sources of fear. However, we have managed this state of insecurity for the past three years. There is no reason to fear that we shall all perish under eight more months. But we can only believe and live with this assurance if we see a light at the end of the tunnel.
The positive outcome that we visualize is the February 2023 federal elections. The elections will determine what becomes of us as a nation when a new set of rulers assume office in May 2023.
We faced much of the same problems in 2014. Society bullies exploited our fears to cajole us into accepting and voting for someone presented as a brave, upright soldier. Our expectations were that this old soldier would grab the reins of power and march off to defeat terrorists, bandits and kidnappers. The old solider dashed our expectations.
Nigerians should have the courage to face the fears welling inside us now. The time to think is now. The time to sit down and reflect, discuss, understand and agree on our shared challenges. It is the time to critically examine and challenge the insincerity of those who bully and cajole to follow the wrong lane. We know that none of the three frontrunners is a saint. There are no living saints in the world. The Catholic Church got it right: it recognizes saints only after they die. But even among the ungodly, there are levels. Therefore, allow us to expose their imperfections, so that we can find our way through to vote for the least among the unsaintly.
Alibaba and the 40 Nollywood Ashawo
Alibaba and the 40 Nollywood Ashawo is a play on Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves, a Middle Eastern folk tale.
Before anyone sues, the title does not suggest that the humour merchant patronizes Ashawo. Neither does it imply that this seedy business is a legitimate line of work in their neck of the woods.
I didn’t find it funny when this dean of comedy unloaded his anger on an unnamed actress. Her sin was proudly and publicly displaying a home she bought in the upscale Lekki area of Lagos. Alibaba raised three points to dispute her claim and, in the process, used a brush to tar female Nollywood actors. According to him, most of these actors do not earn enough to buy prime real estate. What they flaunt on social media are gifts from wealthy clients that they sell their services to outside the industry. He did not exactly say what those services were. But he gave dark hints about Dubai, and keys to VIP suites in hotels. He claimed to have witnessed when one key exchange took place between an aide and an actor. And he was offended when, days later, she proclaimed that hard work had given her a home in Lekki.
In Nigeria, anything is possible, including buying a house in Lekki from a Dubai trip. But even if it is this type of miracle that took place, is it your hard work, Ali? And is it not hard work?