By Austen Oghuma
A law enforcement official was once asked how he thought history would view his tenure. "I think history will take care of itself," he said. He was convinced he had put in his best. Let the facts speak for themselves. By the time he died several years later, history had truly rendered its verdict.
It concluded that the officer may not have been guilty of all the transgressions that occurred during his tenure but stood no chance of public pardon. His lack of leadership were so apparent and offences so egregious.
His Nigerian equivalent has no such humility. He always harbored hideous intentions that were not so discernible. “Secret agenda,” the media cried. There were broken promises and its attendant chaos. He believed he could undermine the lives and choices of the people and supplant them with his own personal ambition. After all, he felt, he was the master of the universe, a Maradonna in a non-level playing field for he had thrived on treachery and betrayals in the past.
But society was still willing to forgive with the belief that he was perhaps, a dedicated public servant whose tenure could have been appropriate in earlier times. It concluded that it was in the interest of society and natural progression to consign him to history books; he was such an egomaniacal figure, a misfit for the job at hand at the time he served in that he nearly destroyed the society he pledged to protect.
He was so tunnel vision, who failed to see the big picture every leader contends with, the multi- color details that shows society to be a whole lot bigger and more complex than he could conceptualize.
The above description fits the profile of Ibrahim Badamasi Babaginda, one of the self-styled political retrofits jostling to lead Nigeria in 2011.
Unlike the officer, Babaginda has no patience for history. He wants to re-write it without acknowledging his failures and lack of leadership qualities. His style was simply basic, to exploit greed and hunger of the masses in a society that required a more sanguine and delicate handling, a society that craved competition, in a hurry to catch up with the rest of the world. He could not see that aspect of the Nigerian population at the time.
But now they have grown out of his needs to re-validate himself. They have no patience for visionless experiments. He now blames the military government, which he led for all the bad decisions of his 8-year rule.
Since he has chosen to be a permanent feature in the Nigerian political space, intent in re-writing history, we would assist him first in documenting some of the atrocious acts as they were before he attempts to re-write them. Journalism, they say, is history on the fly!
Some of the issues are already well known and I will unveil some others for him to determine where his “reputation defenders.” should begin their job.
The June 12 election annulment is pretty much covered along with Dele Giwa’s assassination and Gloria Okon, who was arrested in Kano for drug trafficking. She died barely three days after she reportedly embarked on hunger strike. We all know that even laboratory rats on food deprivation live longer.
Babaginda, the man who wants to rule Nigeria, should explain to the public what transferred in the confidential file room at State Security Services office on August 28, 29, 30, 1985 soon after he deposed General Muhammad Buhari.
Perhaps, he forgot that some activities are never so sheltered from the public even if they conducted in total privacy. In certain circumstances, even the walls have eyes. On the days mentioned above, the confidential file room of SSS also had ears. While the country waited for IBB to unveil his programs, he was alone in a highly private room on Awolowo Road, Ikoyi.
He had embarked in search of a resolution to his immediate troubling issue which was to locate his personal file as compiled by the Buhari government. That trumped all state matters. For the next three days IBB sequestered himself, sought no assistance from no one and asked no questions. He was determined to rescue his confidential file the custody of SSS. By the time he was through, the neatly arranged confidential file room was in disarray. Every file folder was pulled and its content emptied on the floor, and some file cabinets were over turned. It was in a mess, an elephant locked in such a tiny space could have done better..
He did not know that SSS at the time had deployed some advance technology in record keeping by using microfiche for some personal files of certain categories of criminal suspects. When he finally found it in a microfiche, he heaved a sigh of relief and promptly removed it and walked out in triumph. You scallywag!
It is the content of this file that has formed the basis of his refusal to reconcile with Buhari. They will reconcile for the file contained a lot of gory details including his dalliances with all sorts of people some of which were referred to by Gideon Orkar in his attempted coup broadcast. It also included details of his expanded drug trade and his numerous bank accounts in phony names in foreign countries. They were huge balances for a general in the Nigeria army. It was also illegal for any government official to operate a foreign account. IBB had several. Some of the SSS case officers who compiled the information were promptly retired others detained under house arrest for several years.
Is this the man that wants to repair the damage he did to Nigeria? Probably so! He can begin the repair work by returning that file to the treasury without any alterations. We would then evaluate its content.
That file was compiled with public funds and it should be returned to where it belongs. There is nothing in public service regulations that authorizes any official military or civil to remove his personal confidential file from the treasury no matter the content. IBB took his own file away.
The purpose of this article is not to discourage Babaginda from running for president. In spite of my personal disagreement with his leadership style, I want him to run. He represents one thing: bad leadership who represents everything evil or what a good leader ought not to be. He simply does not have the traits. He cannot continue to experiment with people’s lives.
He also has the capacity to unify opposition, those who reject slimy politics, deception and falsehood, lack of transparency and above all lack of vision!
Showing posts with label Austen Oghuma. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Austen Oghuma. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Monday, November 29, 2010
Strange Bedfellows: The Unfinished Business of Nigerian Politics and Military Hubris
A whole lot of discourse seems to be taking place these days especially with the fast approaching Nigeria general elections which obviously has been full of uncertainties. Some of us, without a doubt, cannot stand the hogwash surrounding Nigeria’s political environment and when one considers a nation that is now fifty years old with such enormous human capital and abundant natural resources, it’s worth the weep.
I have stopped political talk for now, even though I have been called a political junkie. But though we all engage in politics one way or the other, since politics seems to play a role in every thing that we do in life. However, the kind of politics one is talking about is when two good friends are opposed to each other perhaps for a candidate or a politician who is more likely to be on one’s favor.
My case is very unique and I do believe so. And Austen Oghuma whom I have known for over twenty-five years is quite different from his political views, also.
In December of 1985, my brother, Dominic, had visited home from Los Angeles and had asked if I knew Dele Giwa, the founding member of Newswatch magazine. Of course, Giwa, then, was a media elite and had changed the ways and means of the media with his colleagues at Newswatch –Dan Agbese, Yakubu Mohammed and Ray Ekpu – discovering how to run a free press, a press free from doctoring with the ideal of an effective press and an effective democratic fabric, one of several reasons they left their respective assignments at the bases where censorship was tolerated, destroying every aspect of civil liberties in any organized society.
Meanwhile, the reason my brother had asked for Giwa was that Oghuma and my brother had gone to school in Los Angeles and he had gotten news that Oghuma had joined Newswatch, and that he looked forward to seeing him during his brief visit home. One weekday, when we felt like poking around the Lagos metropolis, my brother and I decided we should check out the Newswatch complex and say hi to Oghuma whom I never knew from Adam until my brother tabled a gist about him when he breezed in from Los Angeles. It was quite fun then riding on the Apapa-Ikeja Expressway when clogging was beside the point and part of the nation’s traffic congestion. In fact, Apapa-Ikeja was the freest motorway back then.
When we got to Newswatch, we waited at the lobby until Oghuma returned from his lunch break. Never knew this guy my brother talked about. As Oghuma walked in while we waited at the lobby and my brother spotted him, the Yankee slang and jargon popped out loud: “What’s up, man?” How’s life been treating you, man?” “How’s LA, man?” “LA is good, man!” “Life is good, man.” “What you been up to, man?” “I miss you, man” and things like that.
At that time, I figured out in whole that America was a wonderful country and “seeing is believing” which goes with the phrase “come and see America wonder.” “Come and see America wonder,” “this is real, man!” “No joke, for real!”
My brother spent about four weeks that 1985 Christmas holiday period and went back to Wonderland, leaving Oghuma and myself to sort things out; that is, if politics should be our game, not knowing that both of us (Oghuma and I) would one day check out like Andrew (Enebeli Elebuwa) as in that Nigeria Television Authority (NTA) commercial when the Muhamad Buhari-Tunde Idiagbon military juntas wrestled power from the people followed by a bastardized, corrupt, Ibrahim Babangida military regime.
Nigeria did not collapse economically and wasn’t that bad even though the military juntas took over the affairs of state. And quite interestingly, it was when the Maradona of Nigeria politics, Babangida, had surfaced to dribble his friends and foes which eventually destroyed the country in its entirety that concerned Nigerians figured out Babangida was real evil as bribery and corruption became institutionalized.
The military juntas weren’t in our way when Oghuma and I started hooking up at some joints in Lagos; and at his Alagbon Towers’, Ikoyi residence. Of course, we discussed politics during the Babangida “Evil Genius” era, and we insisted a military dictatorship was not the best political option for Africa’s most populous nation. That with Nigeria’s capacity, military regime in all aspects should be a no go area in terms of affairs of state, and in a normal environment democracy is the key to all organized societies.
The military would not let go. The civil sector, has, by the day, become weak and powerless; and by just so, helped the military juntas sustain its power. Babangida was just full of it. He had made his best friend and colleague, Mamman Vatsa, a mystery, and then considered the best intellectual power house within the scope of the military juntas; and we who were “bloody civilians,” name the khaki bastards called us, in a confused and panicked civil structure that could not send the uniformed juntas back to the barracks where they belonged. However, we did not have much in our possessions on the grounds of a censored press from the barrels of the gun.
And yet, that did not stop the buoyant Nigeria press from lashing at the military juntas on cases grand and small regarding accountability, transparency, freedom of speech and assembly as seen in all organized societies, and democratic fabrics.
It was during the Vatsa mystery that Giwa and his colleagues –Dan Agbese, Yakubu Mohammed and Ray Ekpu – at Newswatch had teamed up with other fine journalists of the day to investigate the Babangida’s brutal regime with the eye of a microscope. Every now and then, Oghuma and I would table a discourse about a bastardized regime which deliberately destroyed a nation, and henceforth, the country would never be the same again.
Sometimes, Oghuma and I would hang out down the street at Ikoyi Hotel, sipping lager as local politics becomes the order of the day. We had not taken sides yet since there were no political parties. A political party was forbidden according to the doctrines of the military juntas and no particular candidate to endorse by way of affiliation. We were just good friends and no issue of the day kept us apart since we both loathe the idea of military regimes; and also, disliked the fact that the juntas had denied we the people, what they called bloody civilians, the right to run the country the way it’s done in civilized societies. Babangida was the problem we all had for the fact that he has been part of every military coup in the country. Babangida had pursued the highest position within the military by savagely axing all that came along his way, a desire for the Machiavellian theory that the end justifies the means. Babangida had eliminated many on his way to the top and continued to do so while still a dictator.
Austen and I talked much about the ills of dictatorship as we frequented Ikoyi Hotel which was down the street from his Alagbon Towers home. Most times at the lobby of Ikoyi Hotel were stream of Lebanese men who were all of a type. They were thickly moustached, pot-bellied which is evidence of good living the Nigerian way, cigar-smoking bookmakers; sometimes carrying canes and talking big – all about gambling and money-making opportunities. They ran the casinos. They were the economic barons of the military juntas.
Austen who had not been used to the flamboyant Kora people as they were called said he could tell from their moves that they had power and could shake anything around. Of course, they did. They stuffed the pockets of the military juntas with cash just to quiet them on the rules and regulations, and or ordinances as the case may be regarding operations of the slot machines, lottery and a series of gambling activities which they controlled with impunity, evading all forms of taxes.
Though the Olusegun Obasanjo-led military juntas had banned all sorts of gambling activities in the country, the Kora went underground briefly until the restrictions was relaxed when the Shehu Shagari administration succeeded the Obasanjo-led military juntas. The Shagari administration, the most corrupt in that era, had assembled a gang of culturally, mischievous corrupt politicians – Umaru Dikko, Augustus Adisa Akinloye, Ali Baba, Joseph Wayas, and uncountable rogue politicians – never seen before in the nation’s history which eventually ushered in a welcomed military drums of Mohammad Buhari-Tunde Idiagbon juntas calling that batch of another period of dictatorship an offshoot of the Murtala Muhammad-Olusegun Obasanjo military regime.
The nation’s problems had just begun. From triumph to turmoil. Buhari, former GOC of the 3rd Armored Division would be flown from the North to take over the affairs of state. Idiagbon, former military Secretary and who was much around on the ground would be made Chief of Staff, Supreme Headquarters (second-in-command). The Buhari-Idiagbon military juntas destroyed all aspects of civil liberties. All sorts of draconian laws became the order of the day. Nevertheless, and of course, with a panicking Nigerian public, the Buhari-Idiagbon-led military juntas were too hot to cool down. They were the one so many Nigerians were waiting for – not only to deal with the cast of corrupt politicians from the Shehu Shagari regime they had just toppled, but a long awaited relieve from the mess of Shagari’s regime that brought economic woes to the country; the no nonsense tough military brass that will bring back sanity to the nation, the military couples that will put together a whole set of new rules -- War Against Indiscipline and all that. In fact, the first military regime to slam journalists and assassinate citizens by way of firing squad for drug trafficking even when there was no decree that prescribed such draconian laws by the time the alleged crime was committed.
Things had gotten so bad Nigerians wanted change immediately no matter who that would be to redeem the nation from Shagari’s mess. The Buhari-Idiagbon of “Andrew, don’t check out, please stay and let’s rebuild our country” was too tough an act for the military couples in their quest to have every Nigerian to queue at the post office, the banks, the “mama put” joints, the talking Ebute Ero Market Women, and even the buses, was typical of having too much to chew because of the couples’ recklessness. While they were playing that tough kid stuff and had to procrastinate on a whole bunch of their proposals to purge the military starting from Babangida for series of scandals and drug trafficking, they never knew their culprit (Babangida) who would destroy the country in its entirety had his own plans and would strike first and quick.
But still: How did the Buhari-Idiagbon regime go down the drain so fast. The public execution of three drug peddlers – Barthlomew Owoh, Lawal Ojuolape and Bernard Ogedengbe – from a retrospective decree sent shocking waves to the international community. The oil barons and business magnates of the day did not like the approach starting from Moshood Abiola who had been very close to Babangida, and who allegedly had sponsored the 1983 coup that killed the Second Republic. And not too many liked the kind of disciplinary measures the Buhari-Idiagbon regime had introduced to the country. “It’s too harsh,” some would say. For in stance, the random questionings, interrogation and oftentimes slamming of important personalities including top-notch businessmen. Dantata, Bako Kontagora, Amali Sokoto, Isyaki Rabiu, Haruna Danda, and many uncountable others were victims of Buhari-Idiagbon’s reign of terror.
The juntas also ransacked Obafemi Awolowo’s Park Lane, Apapa home looking for evidence on the grounds of “security risk” from its promulgated Decree Number two, to slam the founding member of a fabricated republic. And the juntas had also promulgated Decree Number four specifically for journalists to prevent the unofficial fourth arm of government from reporting news that would be embarrassing to the government. Pressed by critics and the international community that Decree Number four specifically for journalists was too harsh and that even though as juntas, and with a decree specifically targeting journalists, they are adding more insult to dishonor. The juntas refused to listen. They chose the kick ass authority attitude. Buhari-Idiagbon’s too-harsh handling of the Nigerian masses was what did them in notably on the first victims of Decree Number four which had slammed Tunde Thompson and Nduka Iraboh. Despite all this, there was however, one contradictory footnote in all the decrees concocted in pretence to fix the nation’s avalanche of problems.
Babangida, former Director of Army Staff Duties and Planning was Chief Of Army Staff during the Buhari-Idiagbon harsh times would topple the duo, outsmarting them on the hunch he would be next on the duo’s list of drug traffickers and allegedly kingpin of the drug cartels. Babangida striked. He did outsmart the Buhari-Idiagbon duo. How Idiagbon was persuaded or compelled to pay homage to Mecca considering his kiss ass attitude and what was at stake while he watched Babangida very closely, beats me. Babangida took back all of Buhari-Idiagbon's draconian laws and repealed the death penalty decree on drug trafficking.
But anyway, the gun barrels did not stop Austen and I from talking politics and hanging out as usual. We had no qualms for the fact we were ordinary citizens, not noticed to have raised any false alarm. Babangida would be more dangerous, deadlier than his predecessor and would eventually bring the nation to its knees. In what would be Babangida and his boys – Joshua Dogonyaro, David Mark and John Shagaya – the nation will never be the same again.
To be continued…
I have stopped political talk for now, even though I have been called a political junkie. But though we all engage in politics one way or the other, since politics seems to play a role in every thing that we do in life. However, the kind of politics one is talking about is when two good friends are opposed to each other perhaps for a candidate or a politician who is more likely to be on one’s favor.
My case is very unique and I do believe so. And Austen Oghuma whom I have known for over twenty-five years is quite different from his political views, also.
In December of 1985, my brother, Dominic, had visited home from Los Angeles and had asked if I knew Dele Giwa, the founding member of Newswatch magazine. Of course, Giwa, then, was a media elite and had changed the ways and means of the media with his colleagues at Newswatch –Dan Agbese, Yakubu Mohammed and Ray Ekpu – discovering how to run a free press, a press free from doctoring with the ideal of an effective press and an effective democratic fabric, one of several reasons they left their respective assignments at the bases where censorship was tolerated, destroying every aspect of civil liberties in any organized society.
Meanwhile, the reason my brother had asked for Giwa was that Oghuma and my brother had gone to school in Los Angeles and he had gotten news that Oghuma had joined Newswatch, and that he looked forward to seeing him during his brief visit home. One weekday, when we felt like poking around the Lagos metropolis, my brother and I decided we should check out the Newswatch complex and say hi to Oghuma whom I never knew from Adam until my brother tabled a gist about him when he breezed in from Los Angeles. It was quite fun then riding on the Apapa-Ikeja Expressway when clogging was beside the point and part of the nation’s traffic congestion. In fact, Apapa-Ikeja was the freest motorway back then.
When we got to Newswatch, we waited at the lobby until Oghuma returned from his lunch break. Never knew this guy my brother talked about. As Oghuma walked in while we waited at the lobby and my brother spotted him, the Yankee slang and jargon popped out loud: “What’s up, man?” How’s life been treating you, man?” “How’s LA, man?” “LA is good, man!” “Life is good, man.” “What you been up to, man?” “I miss you, man” and things like that.
At that time, I figured out in whole that America was a wonderful country and “seeing is believing” which goes with the phrase “come and see America wonder.” “Come and see America wonder,” “this is real, man!” “No joke, for real!”
My brother spent about four weeks that 1985 Christmas holiday period and went back to Wonderland, leaving Oghuma and myself to sort things out; that is, if politics should be our game, not knowing that both of us (Oghuma and I) would one day check out like Andrew (Enebeli Elebuwa) as in that Nigeria Television Authority (NTA) commercial when the Muhamad Buhari-Tunde Idiagbon military juntas wrestled power from the people followed by a bastardized, corrupt, Ibrahim Babangida military regime.
Nigeria did not collapse economically and wasn’t that bad even though the military juntas took over the affairs of state. And quite interestingly, it was when the Maradona of Nigeria politics, Babangida, had surfaced to dribble his friends and foes which eventually destroyed the country in its entirety that concerned Nigerians figured out Babangida was real evil as bribery and corruption became institutionalized.
The military juntas weren’t in our way when Oghuma and I started hooking up at some joints in Lagos; and at his Alagbon Towers’, Ikoyi residence. Of course, we discussed politics during the Babangida “Evil Genius” era, and we insisted a military dictatorship was not the best political option for Africa’s most populous nation. That with Nigeria’s capacity, military regime in all aspects should be a no go area in terms of affairs of state, and in a normal environment democracy is the key to all organized societies.
The military would not let go. The civil sector, has, by the day, become weak and powerless; and by just so, helped the military juntas sustain its power. Babangida was just full of it. He had made his best friend and colleague, Mamman Vatsa, a mystery, and then considered the best intellectual power house within the scope of the military juntas; and we who were “bloody civilians,” name the khaki bastards called us, in a confused and panicked civil structure that could not send the uniformed juntas back to the barracks where they belonged. However, we did not have much in our possessions on the grounds of a censored press from the barrels of the gun.
And yet, that did not stop the buoyant Nigeria press from lashing at the military juntas on cases grand and small regarding accountability, transparency, freedom of speech and assembly as seen in all organized societies, and democratic fabrics.
It was during the Vatsa mystery that Giwa and his colleagues –Dan Agbese, Yakubu Mohammed and Ray Ekpu – at Newswatch had teamed up with other fine journalists of the day to investigate the Babangida’s brutal regime with the eye of a microscope. Every now and then, Oghuma and I would table a discourse about a bastardized regime which deliberately destroyed a nation, and henceforth, the country would never be the same again.
Sometimes, Oghuma and I would hang out down the street at Ikoyi Hotel, sipping lager as local politics becomes the order of the day. We had not taken sides yet since there were no political parties. A political party was forbidden according to the doctrines of the military juntas and no particular candidate to endorse by way of affiliation. We were just good friends and no issue of the day kept us apart since we both loathe the idea of military regimes; and also, disliked the fact that the juntas had denied we the people, what they called bloody civilians, the right to run the country the way it’s done in civilized societies. Babangida was the problem we all had for the fact that he has been part of every military coup in the country. Babangida had pursued the highest position within the military by savagely axing all that came along his way, a desire for the Machiavellian theory that the end justifies the means. Babangida had eliminated many on his way to the top and continued to do so while still a dictator.
Austen and I talked much about the ills of dictatorship as we frequented Ikoyi Hotel which was down the street from his Alagbon Towers home. Most times at the lobby of Ikoyi Hotel were stream of Lebanese men who were all of a type. They were thickly moustached, pot-bellied which is evidence of good living the Nigerian way, cigar-smoking bookmakers; sometimes carrying canes and talking big – all about gambling and money-making opportunities. They ran the casinos. They were the economic barons of the military juntas.
Austen who had not been used to the flamboyant Kora people as they were called said he could tell from their moves that they had power and could shake anything around. Of course, they did. They stuffed the pockets of the military juntas with cash just to quiet them on the rules and regulations, and or ordinances as the case may be regarding operations of the slot machines, lottery and a series of gambling activities which they controlled with impunity, evading all forms of taxes.
Though the Olusegun Obasanjo-led military juntas had banned all sorts of gambling activities in the country, the Kora went underground briefly until the restrictions was relaxed when the Shehu Shagari administration succeeded the Obasanjo-led military juntas. The Shagari administration, the most corrupt in that era, had assembled a gang of culturally, mischievous corrupt politicians – Umaru Dikko, Augustus Adisa Akinloye, Ali Baba, Joseph Wayas, and uncountable rogue politicians – never seen before in the nation’s history which eventually ushered in a welcomed military drums of Mohammad Buhari-Tunde Idiagbon juntas calling that batch of another period of dictatorship an offshoot of the Murtala Muhammad-Olusegun Obasanjo military regime.
The nation’s problems had just begun. From triumph to turmoil. Buhari, former GOC of the 3rd Armored Division would be flown from the North to take over the affairs of state. Idiagbon, former military Secretary and who was much around on the ground would be made Chief of Staff, Supreme Headquarters (second-in-command). The Buhari-Idiagbon military juntas destroyed all aspects of civil liberties. All sorts of draconian laws became the order of the day. Nevertheless, and of course, with a panicking Nigerian public, the Buhari-Idiagbon-led military juntas were too hot to cool down. They were the one so many Nigerians were waiting for – not only to deal with the cast of corrupt politicians from the Shehu Shagari regime they had just toppled, but a long awaited relieve from the mess of Shagari’s regime that brought economic woes to the country; the no nonsense tough military brass that will bring back sanity to the nation, the military couples that will put together a whole set of new rules -- War Against Indiscipline and all that. In fact, the first military regime to slam journalists and assassinate citizens by way of firing squad for drug trafficking even when there was no decree that prescribed such draconian laws by the time the alleged crime was committed.
Things had gotten so bad Nigerians wanted change immediately no matter who that would be to redeem the nation from Shagari’s mess. The Buhari-Idiagbon of “Andrew, don’t check out, please stay and let’s rebuild our country” was too tough an act for the military couples in their quest to have every Nigerian to queue at the post office, the banks, the “mama put” joints, the talking Ebute Ero Market Women, and even the buses, was typical of having too much to chew because of the couples’ recklessness. While they were playing that tough kid stuff and had to procrastinate on a whole bunch of their proposals to purge the military starting from Babangida for series of scandals and drug trafficking, they never knew their culprit (Babangida) who would destroy the country in its entirety had his own plans and would strike first and quick.
But still: How did the Buhari-Idiagbon regime go down the drain so fast. The public execution of three drug peddlers – Barthlomew Owoh, Lawal Ojuolape and Bernard Ogedengbe – from a retrospective decree sent shocking waves to the international community. The oil barons and business magnates of the day did not like the approach starting from Moshood Abiola who had been very close to Babangida, and who allegedly had sponsored the 1983 coup that killed the Second Republic. And not too many liked the kind of disciplinary measures the Buhari-Idiagbon regime had introduced to the country. “It’s too harsh,” some would say. For in stance, the random questionings, interrogation and oftentimes slamming of important personalities including top-notch businessmen. Dantata, Bako Kontagora, Amali Sokoto, Isyaki Rabiu, Haruna Danda, and many uncountable others were victims of Buhari-Idiagbon’s reign of terror.
The juntas also ransacked Obafemi Awolowo’s Park Lane, Apapa home looking for evidence on the grounds of “security risk” from its promulgated Decree Number two, to slam the founding member of a fabricated republic. And the juntas had also promulgated Decree Number four specifically for journalists to prevent the unofficial fourth arm of government from reporting news that would be embarrassing to the government. Pressed by critics and the international community that Decree Number four specifically for journalists was too harsh and that even though as juntas, and with a decree specifically targeting journalists, they are adding more insult to dishonor. The juntas refused to listen. They chose the kick ass authority attitude. Buhari-Idiagbon’s too-harsh handling of the Nigerian masses was what did them in notably on the first victims of Decree Number four which had slammed Tunde Thompson and Nduka Iraboh. Despite all this, there was however, one contradictory footnote in all the decrees concocted in pretence to fix the nation’s avalanche of problems.
Babangida, former Director of Army Staff Duties and Planning was Chief Of Army Staff during the Buhari-Idiagbon harsh times would topple the duo, outsmarting them on the hunch he would be next on the duo’s list of drug traffickers and allegedly kingpin of the drug cartels. Babangida striked. He did outsmart the Buhari-Idiagbon duo. How Idiagbon was persuaded or compelled to pay homage to Mecca considering his kiss ass attitude and what was at stake while he watched Babangida very closely, beats me. Babangida took back all of Buhari-Idiagbon's draconian laws and repealed the death penalty decree on drug trafficking.
But anyway, the gun barrels did not stop Austen and I from talking politics and hanging out as usual. We had no qualms for the fact we were ordinary citizens, not noticed to have raised any false alarm. Babangida would be more dangerous, deadlier than his predecessor and would eventually bring the nation to its knees. In what would be Babangida and his boys – Joshua Dogonyaro, David Mark and John Shagaya – the nation will never be the same again.
To be continued…
Monday, March 15, 2010
Donald Duke Launches His Presidential Campaign In Los Angeles
I had ignored Yahoogroups' internet brigade's circulation of former governor of Cross River State, Donald Duke's coming to Los Angeles to propose to Nigeria Diaspora his quest to run for president of "Federal Republic of Nigeria" on the platform of the ruling Peoples Democratic Party -- PDP -- until my colleague and good friend, Austen Oghuma, tried to persuade me it's time for change in a fabricated Nigerian national state.
As it happened, on Saturday evening, March 14, 2010, we drove to LAX Marriot Hotel, 5855 West Century Blvd., for "An Evening with Governor Donald Duke," and walking into the lobby of the hotel, we asked the doormen where Duke's event was unfolding and being a little bit late we were directed to the basement where Duke, at the podium, was selling his program for the presidency. We secured a seat in a packed forum of Nigerians in Greater Los Angeles and watched Duke speak of how to effect change in a troubled Nigeria, "convincing" a gullible and vulnerable Nigeria Diaspora audience that he's the right man to take the country -- based on its enormous human capital and abundant natural resources -- to where it should belong in the global scene.
Neverminding Duke's rhetorics and all that blah, blah, blah, I had to take pictures which to me was normal of such events. I took a lot of pictures of Duke at the podium, took more of a gullible Diaspora audience who had no clue how to influence decisions back home, and who had lost every sense of purpose in getting things done. And taking those pictures with the concept of a strong press and strong democracy, the organizers, Ebube Wadibia, Uzo Diribe, Acho Emeruwa and their cohorts confronted me and asked me to leave, that if I don't leave they will call security on me; that I cannot take pictures of the presidential candidate; that I was not invited to an event that was open to all 'Nigerians' in the Greater Los Angeles; that taking such pictures "is" not allowed; that I was not the right person to be taking pictures of a misleading Duke campaign for the presidency; that I have been warned; that it was a special event for the Nigeria Diaspora elite, and that I am not politically affiliated. That's my ordeal at Duke's presidential campaign.
Duke had arrived to the shores of this land in the company of his campaign manager, Dr. Yemi Ogunbiyi whose closing remarks had nothing to do with Duke's address to run an efficient and thorough democratic fabric. The question and answers to the governor was prearranged by the moderators and organizers of an event that lacked substance from the perspective of Duke having no business, in the first place, to launch his campaign in Diaspora. It is only in Nigeria that a presidential aspirant kickstarts his campaign from abroad. It is senseless in many ways and why would an opportunist, confused, Diaspora bunch welcome Duke to launch his campaign for the presidency when he is suppose to begin that ambition from his nativeland of Calabar? And why would the Los Angeles-based organizers in the likes of Ebube Wadibia, Uzo Diribe and Acho Emeruwa be so concerned it would take Duke, a South Southerner to change the course of the nation's history when Vice President Goodluck Jonathan who also hails from the South-South is now presiding on the affairs of state? What message is Duke sending to the South-South whose history in Nigeria has been of violence and political impotence? What need is the double-cross in a situation the country now lives on a borrowed time?
I'm not sure how it really works, but with Duke's campaign staff urging every Nigerian Diaspora to commit $25 monthly contribution for the presidential candidate's war chests in order to raise $500,000 is indeed troubling.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
The Reader, The Writer, The Informed and The Library
I had held an open-minded discourse with a friend and colleague of mine, Austen Oghuma, on a variety of issues regarding books, library, reading and writing, and writing stands alone when it comes to the way most of us think. It all began from David Ejoor's biased and unintelligible interview that got internet crackpots outraged.
But I had reasoned Ejoor does not deserve the attention given him, so far, and I have kept my word that Ejoor is a midget in the history books of the Nigeria crisis and as far as I am concerned he has no place in that fabricated country's history. Well the point I am trying to make here is when I asked Oghuma where one can purchase Ejoor's "Reminiscence" he said probably in Nigeria but I doubt if the book is still around any shelf. Besides, most of the books in Nigeria are poorly produced and published.
We don't write and we don't keep archives which is why our history will one day vanish. On the other hand, it is absolutely why our democracy will keep to be fledgling until eternity and the following comments are vivid accounts why a democracy had thrived:
"A popular government without a popular information or the means of acquiring it, is but a prologue to a farce or a tragedy, or perhaps both. Knowledge will forever govern ignorance, and a people who mean to be their own governors must arm themselves with the power which knowledge gives."
James Madison
Libraries are the wardrobes of literature, whence men, properly informed may bring forth something for ornament, much for curiosity, and more for use."
William Dyer (1636 -- 1696)
"There is not such a cradle of democracy upon the Earth as the Free Public Library, this republic of letters, where neither rank, office, nor wealth receives the slightest consideration."
Andrew Carnegie
"A democratic society depends upon informed and educated citizenry. Information is the currency of democracy."
Thomas Jefferson
"I received the fundamentals of my education in school, but that was not enough. My real education, the superstructure, I got out of the public library. For an impoverished child whose family could not afford to buy books, the library was the open door to wonder and achievement, and I can never be sufficiently grateful that I had the wit to change through that door and make the most of it. Now, when I read constantly about the way in which library funds are being cut and cut, I can only think that the door is closing and that American society has found one more way to destroy itself."
Isaac Asimov, New York: Doubleday, 1994
Democracy works if applied on the basis of the above comments and I strongly believe in letters, and I encourage that as we learn each day that we live. Now, let me hear from you, where, how and when you write and which is your favorite and why writing is a powerful weapon.
But I had reasoned Ejoor does not deserve the attention given him, so far, and I have kept my word that Ejoor is a midget in the history books of the Nigeria crisis and as far as I am concerned he has no place in that fabricated country's history. Well the point I am trying to make here is when I asked Oghuma where one can purchase Ejoor's "Reminiscence" he said probably in Nigeria but I doubt if the book is still around any shelf. Besides, most of the books in Nigeria are poorly produced and published.
We don't write and we don't keep archives which is why our history will one day vanish. On the other hand, it is absolutely why our democracy will keep to be fledgling until eternity and the following comments are vivid accounts why a democracy had thrived:
"A popular government without a popular information or the means of acquiring it, is but a prologue to a farce or a tragedy, or perhaps both. Knowledge will forever govern ignorance, and a people who mean to be their own governors must arm themselves with the power which knowledge gives."
James Madison
Libraries are the wardrobes of literature, whence men, properly informed may bring forth something for ornament, much for curiosity, and more for use."
William Dyer (1636 -- 1696)
"There is not such a cradle of democracy upon the Earth as the Free Public Library, this republic of letters, where neither rank, office, nor wealth receives the slightest consideration."
Andrew Carnegie
"A democratic society depends upon informed and educated citizenry. Information is the currency of democracy."
Thomas Jefferson
"I received the fundamentals of my education in school, but that was not enough. My real education, the superstructure, I got out of the public library. For an impoverished child whose family could not afford to buy books, the library was the open door to wonder and achievement, and I can never be sufficiently grateful that I had the wit to change through that door and make the most of it. Now, when I read constantly about the way in which library funds are being cut and cut, I can only think that the door is closing and that American society has found one more way to destroy itself."
Isaac Asimov, New York: Doubleday, 1994
Democracy works if applied on the basis of the above comments and I strongly believe in letters, and I encourage that as we learn each day that we live. Now, let me hear from you, where, how and when you write and which is your favorite and why writing is a powerful weapon.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Da Week and Da Happening
Whoo boy, what a week that had begun from checking out an eatery and learning a whole lot about the cowardice Yoruba nation that collaborated in slaughtering my kith and kin to ending up in a forum I have been asked to play a significant role in organizing The Fat Waller Musical Show conceived by Richard Maltby, Jr. and Murray Horwitz; and musically staged and choreographed by Arthur Faria. The Tony Award winning Fats Waller Musical "Ain't Misbehaving" at the Ahmanson Theatre on Temple Street in Downton Los Angeles will run through May 31, 2009, and then following would be the Summer jams and the line-ups.
Well, it's good to know that Ronke Bernadette, owner of Lagos Cafe, has admitted showing some improvements after my visit there a week ago. She has been paying homage to the local churches here in Los Angeles invoking my write-up that God sent me. Patrons have been flooding her eatery ever since that piece, "Lagos Cafe's Arrogance and Horrible Services is a Culinary Disaster." I hope her customer relations has improved, too, because it was zero during my visits. It's time to appreciate the fine work of investigative journalism even though the dummies who had no idea what they were writing about will never realize that.
There has been talk that Seun Kuti will be visiting the City of Angels again following his fantastic and successful performance last Summer at the California Plaza in Downtown Los Angeles. I'm yet to confirm that but when I'm in the know, you surely will get every detail. Seun is just the carbon copy of Baba, the Chief Priest, Fela Kuti, and the flow of his music is awesome.
With a series of activities as the summer jams approaches, a Jewish friend of mine did not find it funny why I missed the Fun and Wacky Passover Adventure at the Shalom Institute in Malibu, California, last week. The event featured Carl Weintraub and music performed by Robbo and Cindy Paley. This guy is a fellow we hold intellectual discourse into the night about the Holocaust six million Jews perished and the pogrom in which the Hausa-Fulanis in collaboration with the Yoruba nation that stinks slaughtered innocent civilians, eviscerated pregnant women, and coerced and stole Igbo properties. Like a Jew learning from the Synagogue that "to forget is to proclaim Hitler innocent," so also is to forget is to proclaim the Hausa-Fulanis and the Yorubas innocent after slautering my people in the most brutal way.
The Twitter nation is waxing strong by the second. It is the real deal. It is the talk of town. Even my good friend, Austen Oghuma, talks about it all the time and how America is a great nation with its brilliant pattern of creativity. That I agree. He is hooked to it and so is everybody. It's Twitter and nothing else. If you follow me, I will follow you. How about that and a way to connect?
For some reasons, I haven't been following up with the few remaining games in the NBA and I'm quite sure it's because of Lakers' inconsistency, allowing King James and his gang to take the lead, overall. But I still pick my LA Lakers to come out smoking, in the long run. We'll see, as the whole drama unfolds. Go Lakers, go!
Oh, before I forget, Ugandan model, actress and performer, Imat Akelo-Opio will be gracing the cover of our debut magazine in an exclusive interview.
Bruce Springsteen who turns 60 in September is now on the road with his E Street Band to support their latest project "Working on a Dream." I haven't watched the guy live lately but I sure do have the ticket for his April 16 jam at the Los Angeles Sports Arena. I will be there. That's my hood and I know it's going to be a hell of a show knowing Bruce for his activism and the way he's loved.
That's da happening and whatever happens keep on twitting. It's good for the soul.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Ehirim Files Classic: "The Cultural Order"
by
Ambrose Ehirim
No question, Los Angeles has emerged as a cultural model for cities all around the globe. Take a ride on Crenshaw Boulevard to Leimert Park and you will find out it has become synonymous with the African American cultural community. Hancock Park and La Brea Avenue is an identity of the Synagogues and Jewish cultural and arts centers. East Los Angeles identifies with the Chicano cultural and labor union communities. On Venice Boulevard toward Venice Beach, the samba-playing Brazilians entertain in their usual colorful and flamboyant manner. Where can I identify my own cultural order?
On April 10, 2003, I checked my messages arriving home from the stressful and bumper-to-bumper bottleneck Los Angeles streets and freeways traffic with calls from loved ones, my brother, my niece, my church pastor, my daughter's teacher, Dr. Edmund Ugorji, telemarketers, my childhood buddy Eugene Onyeji, my classmate at college Ardis Hamilton who was at All Progressive Grand Alliance (APGA) launching as my guest, my good friend and renowned journalist Austen Oghuma, community leaders meeting, Los Angeles African American Political Forum and many others too numerous to mention.
I played back the calls. I returned and missed some of them. Among them, the call from Dr. Ugorji of which I left a message. He returned back my call and spoke of my incommunicado, and among other things, delightedly invited me to his house for dinner, the next day. I honored his invitation and told him I would pop up at 7:30 PM, the scheduled day. After my conversations with Dr. Ugorji, I called Oghuma whose fascinating political debate takes us into the night. Debates on why Biafranigeria shouldn't break up, and debates on why I insist Biafranigeria has no business being a "one united nation." And, too, debates on why Olusegun Obasanjo should keep keeping on in leading the nation at its critical era.
However, it was the eve of Mbieri Community Association of Southern California fundraising event and launching of its first almanac that I kept up my word to pay homage to Dr. Ugorji for dinner. On my way, I stopped by Four Seasons Market run by Dozie Ozoemena to check the week's fliers-fundraising events, wake-keeping, launching, naming ceremonies, baby showers, cultural dances, graduations, weddings and the latest in local politics before my final destination of the said evening. At Four Seasons, the fliers and political junkies hung around. It was usual and typical of my expectations as the Zik ekwuo aru ahia mgbede gatherers were at work doing their thing, saying what they don't know and what they do know sometimes, the kind of "tabloid press" you see at the newsstands, and the kind of trash talks you encounter at barbershops..
It was really nothing new to see the loquacious ahia mgbede gatherers, evening market gossipers in their same old ways talking big and rubbing shoulders of what's new in town. Talks like "Nna, inugwo?" Asi na Jerry gburu ozu, oloputara brand new zero-mileage Hummer H2" (Man, have you heard it? It is said Jerry launched a brand new zero-mileage Hummer H2) was the cultural order. One even asked me "what are you driving now, Hummer?" I was not moved knowing the way ndi be anyi, our people operates which is worrisome for the fact that our values and popular culture is being wiped out ever since the "Push Factor" began, the political, economic and socio-cultural conditions that made us flee our native lands in search for a better life.
Nevertheless, in order not to spoil my evening and looking forward to a sound political and intellectual discourse with Dr. Ugorji, I took off to keep up with my appointment as initially planned. Dr. Ugorji, a linguist, and medical director of Los Angeles Department of Health Services is another political junkie. He welcomed me and offered me and seat. He asked "what kind of drink" I would like. "Water or soda will be fine, precisely lemon drink if soda," I said to him. Generous, humorous and frank, he admitted I was a rare gem based on my thought-provoking articles and confidence regarding the way I speak. It was a long debate as we talked into the night while his kids went to bed. It was the eve of the ridiculous and embarassing National Assembly elections of Olusegun Obasanjo's dubious administration. And, all in all, it was the usual Friday evening when the otimkpus, the alarmists gather to make some noise in a series of pepper soup joints around Los Angeles.
Somehow, that evening, I allowed Dr. Ugorji to do all the talking while I sipped my soda listening attentively. He spoke at length his disgust with Achike Udenwa's inept and corrupt administration in Imo State and the many wonders found in the Igbos of the Diaspora and their chieftaincy titles. He talked about the schools we left behind and its deteriorating conditions, and why nobody is doing anything about it since the missionaries and ndiocha, the white people left us alone to figure things out. He talked about secession bid for autonomy by every hamlet in Igboland and how it created a big divide in the Igbo nation. He talked about the scramblers and opportunists erecting mansions and "palaces" on dusty alleys with no street numberings. He complained, too, about the pogrom and civil war comparing the Igbos with the Jews which really caught my attention in all that he was saying.
"Igbos have nothing at all in common with the Jews," I would say. "Nothing at all, no comparison and not even close." First, despite quarrelling among themselves, greed, envy and hatred do not exist in the Jewish nation. Their pop-culture dating back from the Biblical days is still intact and viable. They know Adolph Hitler was evil and "never again" would the most blood soaked event in humankind be allowed to take place. A five year old Jewish kid, growing up learns in the Synagogue, day care centers and faiths in the Torah that "to forget is to proclaim Hitler innocent." Ask a Jewish kid who the father of the modern Jewish state is and he or she will be quick to tell you.
In contrast, the Igbos have quickly forgotten the evisceration of a pregnant woman, the widespread bloodletting, the "Asaba male death march and drowning," Benjamin Adekunle's proclamation of shooting at every moving creature in Igboland and other horrible cases of that nature, finding solace having an affair with a people who never acknowledged what they did was evil and must not be entertained. Just like the Diaspora Jewish kid who has learned about the Holocaust and the state of Israel, its migration and persecution over the years, a Diaspora Igbo kid and second generation immigrant to be exact, ask who the Igbos are or who is Francis Akanu Ibiam and you likely would hear "never heard of him." Or speak Igbo to these lost generations and you will hear "I don't get it, man!"
But ask this kid or a number of Igbo Diaspora kids who Lebron James is. One hundred percent of these kids will be quick to tell you without guessing that he is the number one ranked High School basketball sensation from Akron, Ohio. He will be recognized by all. To a point and so disturbing some Igbo intellectuals do not want their kids to speak Igbo in public. What's all these for?
Ugorji was pissed and admitted exhaustion of all options in Igbo renaissance. "Does it mean we are finished?" I would ask.
"Enyi amaghim," --my friend, I don't know, Ugorji would distressingly respond.
Of course, we are finished and being weary of pointing out that we have no "adversaries" and enemies but ourselves, we who have caused every divide within our kith and kin tailored to the desire of our enemies should be blamed for the present state of the Igbos. I left Ugorji's house with the never-ending excruciating pains I have beared all my life looking at the sorry state of the Igbo nation.
My evening was in order and I looked forward to the very big occasion about to take place the next day. Earlier, Ugorji and I discussed about the big event, Mbieri gala night. He offered me a high table for the upcoming event, and knowing the story of the dog named "Jack" I declined and promised to show up as usual, to observe and report.
On Saturday April 12, 2003, many invitations and fliers sat on my study desk, and many occasions of the cultural order were taking place the same day. There was Onicha Igbo Cultural Association fundraising event, Okwahuman Association of Southern California Special Easter Dance, Eko Club California, Nkwerre Association of Southern California, Amaigbo Cultural Association, Mbieri Community Association of Southern California Fundraising and Launching of its first almanac, South High Car Wash Crusade to raise fund for the football team and many other socio-cultural events. I checked my calendar and had marked Mbieri Community gala as my first point of call in all the cultural order.
Traditional outfit wearing doormen, beautiful looking children rehearsing at the back corner for the occasion's special dance, uniformed Mbieri women cheering on the aisle, the hippies roaming around and cocking eyes at one another, the flowing gowners showing their stuff, Veronica serving her delicious dishes and uniformed Mbieri men tending bar, it looked like one of those Brazilian carnivals and Big Easy's Madigras, populated by men and women who had been invited to the "fundraising event and launching of 1st Mbieri almanac."
I popped up late in the evening and was greeted by one of the occasion's organizers Nze Odunze Igbonagwam who had sold to me one of the event's tickets. Before my arrival, I had called Oghuma to meet me at the ballroom of Hollywood Park Casino in Inglewood, California and collect a ticket I reserved for him sold to me by Dr. Ugorji. Oghuma, however, could not make it to the show due to other special engagements elsewhere in the Los Angeles area.
The evening was all showman and local celeb Solomon Egbuhuo's doing. For the last several years, the one and only MC in Igbo cultural events around the Los Angeles area has organized and mceed occasions to help various communities raise funds for worthy causes despite the widespread scandals of keeping funny books. Egbuhuo, a businessman and promoter of local music ensembles loves showbizness and the attention it gives him.
Noted deejays Ike and Jasper spinned while the folklore musical group Umunna of Los Angeles did their own thing--the Mike Ejeagha akuko na egwu, folklore kind of stuff. It was electric. It was much, much better than the spraying money in your face and high fives of the notorious Coque Brothers.
Meanwhile, I had taken up a seat in the ballroom and had gone to the menu section to help myself with what the caterer Veronica had prepared for the event. I served myself a concoction from Veronica's menu table--rice, fried plantain, anu ewu (goat meat), moi-moi, fried fish, vegetables, kpof-kpof (call it donut if you like), okporoko, (stockfish) and you name it, I had it all. I sat at a corner with a couple of hometown buddies to do justice to my concoction, my own combination. Dealing with my dish and watching what was going on, Los Angeles area renowned MC Egbuho introduced UmuIgbo USA, uniformed and tantalizingly hot to perform for the evening.
As the second generation immigrants were ushered in to perform what has been rehearsed and choreographed for months, UmuIgbo USA arrived on stage in a standing ovation after the president's opening remarks which preceded Nigeria and America national anthem, making me ponder and questioning about Igbo "national" anthem. Perhaps that was beside the point since all that mattered was Mbieri fundraising and launching of its first almanac. The sensational group walked into the ballroom across the cobbled square, through the hallway, and onto the stage. Turning to the crowd, they bowed and sang. All eyes turned on them cheering and saying a new generation has arrived the shores of America. They were marvelous, up and adequate to the occasion.
Then followed formal opening of the floor by the high table coupled with "processional" entry of Nd'Mbieri in the kind of egwu ure, recalling my memories to the days of egwu umu ada and joyous festivities when culture was still intact. After the procession and dance, Umunna of Los Angeles performed live with breaks between songs. Every attendant shimmied to the beat of the band's original folklore, "making people happy and keeping the crowd dancing." Umunna's music gave me a feel for egwu agba ochie, the real vibe in the heydays of egwu onwa, moonlight plays, folklore and highlife music, and not the ridiculous money campaign, spraying money in your face performed by the ilk of Coque Brothers and the changed Stephen Osita Osadebe.
Then again, the president's speech and "launching, launching, launching," the time for charity and kind gestures, donations and vice versa. While donations and pledges were being made, a whole lot of shaking and hugging was going on, men and women snapped pictures while happy little children ran all over the place. It was a good feel of community. It was the feel of culture made whole and not "even the sum of parts" as Nobel Laureate Wole Soyinka once put it.
I can't describe how much my spirit was lifted. It looked like my boyhood days when we played the hide and seek game during conventions like this, and our parents will be sneaking out to the porch and everywhere looking for us. I left the ballroom totally satisfied that "culture is not parts, it is a whole and an entity."
"Them changes," and as it happened, I suspended my rock classic freaky behavior listening to Peter Frampton, Boston, Rolling Stones, Uriah Heep, The Allman Brothers Band, Thin Lizzy, Eagles, Aerosmith, AC/DC, The Doors, Beatles, David Bowie, Van Halen, David Lee Roth, U2, Rick Springfield, Journey, Rare Earth, Grand Funk, Pat Benatar, Triumph, Bad Company, ZZ Top, Blue Oyster Cult, Foreigner, Rod Stewart, Genesis, Deep Purple, Black Sabbath, Middle of the Road, Men at Work, Bob Miga's Strangers, John Cougar Mellencamp, Bruce Springsteen, Don Henley, Kim Carnes, Bob Seger and dedicated the month of April and May to the music of Paulson Kalu, Celestine Ukwu, Ali Chukwuma, Prince Nico Mbarga, Ikenga Superstars, Eddie Okonta, Ofo, Ozoemena nwa Nsugbe, Harcourt White, Peacocks, Rex Lawson, the old Osadebe, and Bright Chimezie for "culture is not parts, it is a whole."
On my way home, egwu agba ochie, old school became my new cultural order as I flipped Nkengas in London CD with the masterpiece "Asampete Special" entertaining me all the way. "Culture is not parts, not even the sum of parts, it is an entity." I remembered that!
This article was exclusively published at BNW Magazine in April 2003
Ambrose Ehirim
No question, Los Angeles has emerged as a cultural model for cities all around the globe. Take a ride on Crenshaw Boulevard to Leimert Park and you will find out it has become synonymous with the African American cultural community. Hancock Park and La Brea Avenue is an identity of the Synagogues and Jewish cultural and arts centers. East Los Angeles identifies with the Chicano cultural and labor union communities. On Venice Boulevard toward Venice Beach, the samba-playing Brazilians entertain in their usual colorful and flamboyant manner. Where can I identify my own cultural order?
On April 10, 2003, I checked my messages arriving home from the stressful and bumper-to-bumper bottleneck Los Angeles streets and freeways traffic with calls from loved ones, my brother, my niece, my church pastor, my daughter's teacher, Dr. Edmund Ugorji, telemarketers, my childhood buddy Eugene Onyeji, my classmate at college Ardis Hamilton who was at All Progressive Grand Alliance (APGA) launching as my guest, my good friend and renowned journalist Austen Oghuma, community leaders meeting, Los Angeles African American Political Forum and many others too numerous to mention.
I played back the calls. I returned and missed some of them. Among them, the call from Dr. Ugorji of which I left a message. He returned back my call and spoke of my incommunicado, and among other things, delightedly invited me to his house for dinner, the next day. I honored his invitation and told him I would pop up at 7:30 PM, the scheduled day. After my conversations with Dr. Ugorji, I called Oghuma whose fascinating political debate takes us into the night. Debates on why Biafranigeria shouldn't break up, and debates on why I insist Biafranigeria has no business being a "one united nation." And, too, debates on why Olusegun Obasanjo should keep keeping on in leading the nation at its critical era.
However, it was the eve of Mbieri Community Association of Southern California fundraising event and launching of its first almanac that I kept up my word to pay homage to Dr. Ugorji for dinner. On my way, I stopped by Four Seasons Market run by Dozie Ozoemena to check the week's fliers-fundraising events, wake-keeping, launching, naming ceremonies, baby showers, cultural dances, graduations, weddings and the latest in local politics before my final destination of the said evening. At Four Seasons, the fliers and political junkies hung around. It was usual and typical of my expectations as the Zik ekwuo aru ahia mgbede gatherers were at work doing their thing, saying what they don't know and what they do know sometimes, the kind of "tabloid press" you see at the newsstands, and the kind of trash talks you encounter at barbershops..
It was really nothing new to see the loquacious ahia mgbede gatherers, evening market gossipers in their same old ways talking big and rubbing shoulders of what's new in town. Talks like "Nna, inugwo?" Asi na Jerry gburu ozu, oloputara brand new zero-mileage Hummer H2" (Man, have you heard it? It is said Jerry launched a brand new zero-mileage Hummer H2) was the cultural order. One even asked me "what are you driving now, Hummer?" I was not moved knowing the way ndi be anyi, our people operates which is worrisome for the fact that our values and popular culture is being wiped out ever since the "Push Factor" began, the political, economic and socio-cultural conditions that made us flee our native lands in search for a better life.
Nevertheless, in order not to spoil my evening and looking forward to a sound political and intellectual discourse with Dr. Ugorji, I took off to keep up with my appointment as initially planned. Dr. Ugorji, a linguist, and medical director of Los Angeles Department of Health Services is another political junkie. He welcomed me and offered me and seat. He asked "what kind of drink" I would like. "Water or soda will be fine, precisely lemon drink if soda," I said to him. Generous, humorous and frank, he admitted I was a rare gem based on my thought-provoking articles and confidence regarding the way I speak. It was a long debate as we talked into the night while his kids went to bed. It was the eve of the ridiculous and embarassing National Assembly elections of Olusegun Obasanjo's dubious administration. And, all in all, it was the usual Friday evening when the otimkpus, the alarmists gather to make some noise in a series of pepper soup joints around Los Angeles.
Somehow, that evening, I allowed Dr. Ugorji to do all the talking while I sipped my soda listening attentively. He spoke at length his disgust with Achike Udenwa's inept and corrupt administration in Imo State and the many wonders found in the Igbos of the Diaspora and their chieftaincy titles. He talked about the schools we left behind and its deteriorating conditions, and why nobody is doing anything about it since the missionaries and ndiocha, the white people left us alone to figure things out. He talked about secession bid for autonomy by every hamlet in Igboland and how it created a big divide in the Igbo nation. He talked about the scramblers and opportunists erecting mansions and "palaces" on dusty alleys with no street numberings. He complained, too, about the pogrom and civil war comparing the Igbos with the Jews which really caught my attention in all that he was saying.
"Igbos have nothing at all in common with the Jews," I would say. "Nothing at all, no comparison and not even close." First, despite quarrelling among themselves, greed, envy and hatred do not exist in the Jewish nation. Their pop-culture dating back from the Biblical days is still intact and viable. They know Adolph Hitler was evil and "never again" would the most blood soaked event in humankind be allowed to take place. A five year old Jewish kid, growing up learns in the Synagogue, day care centers and faiths in the Torah that "to forget is to proclaim Hitler innocent." Ask a Jewish kid who the father of the modern Jewish state is and he or she will be quick to tell you.
In contrast, the Igbos have quickly forgotten the evisceration of a pregnant woman, the widespread bloodletting, the "Asaba male death march and drowning," Benjamin Adekunle's proclamation of shooting at every moving creature in Igboland and other horrible cases of that nature, finding solace having an affair with a people who never acknowledged what they did was evil and must not be entertained. Just like the Diaspora Jewish kid who has learned about the Holocaust and the state of Israel, its migration and persecution over the years, a Diaspora Igbo kid and second generation immigrant to be exact, ask who the Igbos are or who is Francis Akanu Ibiam and you likely would hear "never heard of him." Or speak Igbo to these lost generations and you will hear "I don't get it, man!"
But ask this kid or a number of Igbo Diaspora kids who Lebron James is. One hundred percent of these kids will be quick to tell you without guessing that he is the number one ranked High School basketball sensation from Akron, Ohio. He will be recognized by all. To a point and so disturbing some Igbo intellectuals do not want their kids to speak Igbo in public. What's all these for?
Ugorji was pissed and admitted exhaustion of all options in Igbo renaissance. "Does it mean we are finished?" I would ask.
"Enyi amaghim," --my friend, I don't know, Ugorji would distressingly respond.
Of course, we are finished and being weary of pointing out that we have no "adversaries" and enemies but ourselves, we who have caused every divide within our kith and kin tailored to the desire of our enemies should be blamed for the present state of the Igbos. I left Ugorji's house with the never-ending excruciating pains I have beared all my life looking at the sorry state of the Igbo nation.
My evening was in order and I looked forward to the very big occasion about to take place the next day. Earlier, Ugorji and I discussed about the big event, Mbieri gala night. He offered me a high table for the upcoming event, and knowing the story of the dog named "Jack" I declined and promised to show up as usual, to observe and report.
On Saturday April 12, 2003, many invitations and fliers sat on my study desk, and many occasions of the cultural order were taking place the same day. There was Onicha Igbo Cultural Association fundraising event, Okwahuman Association of Southern California Special Easter Dance, Eko Club California, Nkwerre Association of Southern California, Amaigbo Cultural Association, Mbieri Community Association of Southern California Fundraising and Launching of its first almanac, South High Car Wash Crusade to raise fund for the football team and many other socio-cultural events. I checked my calendar and had marked Mbieri Community gala as my first point of call in all the cultural order.
Traditional outfit wearing doormen, beautiful looking children rehearsing at the back corner for the occasion's special dance, uniformed Mbieri women cheering on the aisle, the hippies roaming around and cocking eyes at one another, the flowing gowners showing their stuff, Veronica serving her delicious dishes and uniformed Mbieri men tending bar, it looked like one of those Brazilian carnivals and Big Easy's Madigras, populated by men and women who had been invited to the "fundraising event and launching of 1st Mbieri almanac."
I popped up late in the evening and was greeted by one of the occasion's organizers Nze Odunze Igbonagwam who had sold to me one of the event's tickets. Before my arrival, I had called Oghuma to meet me at the ballroom of Hollywood Park Casino in Inglewood, California and collect a ticket I reserved for him sold to me by Dr. Ugorji. Oghuma, however, could not make it to the show due to other special engagements elsewhere in the Los Angeles area.
The evening was all showman and local celeb Solomon Egbuhuo's doing. For the last several years, the one and only MC in Igbo cultural events around the Los Angeles area has organized and mceed occasions to help various communities raise funds for worthy causes despite the widespread scandals of keeping funny books. Egbuhuo, a businessman and promoter of local music ensembles loves showbizness and the attention it gives him.
Noted deejays Ike and Jasper spinned while the folklore musical group Umunna of Los Angeles did their own thing--the Mike Ejeagha akuko na egwu, folklore kind of stuff. It was electric. It was much, much better than the spraying money in your face and high fives of the notorious Coque Brothers.
Meanwhile, I had taken up a seat in the ballroom and had gone to the menu section to help myself with what the caterer Veronica had prepared for the event. I served myself a concoction from Veronica's menu table--rice, fried plantain, anu ewu (goat meat), moi-moi, fried fish, vegetables, kpof-kpof (call it donut if you like), okporoko, (stockfish) and you name it, I had it all. I sat at a corner with a couple of hometown buddies to do justice to my concoction, my own combination. Dealing with my dish and watching what was going on, Los Angeles area renowned MC Egbuho introduced UmuIgbo USA, uniformed and tantalizingly hot to perform for the evening.
As the second generation immigrants were ushered in to perform what has been rehearsed and choreographed for months, UmuIgbo USA arrived on stage in a standing ovation after the president's opening remarks which preceded Nigeria and America national anthem, making me ponder and questioning about Igbo "national" anthem. Perhaps that was beside the point since all that mattered was Mbieri fundraising and launching of its first almanac. The sensational group walked into the ballroom across the cobbled square, through the hallway, and onto the stage. Turning to the crowd, they bowed and sang. All eyes turned on them cheering and saying a new generation has arrived the shores of America. They were marvelous, up and adequate to the occasion.
Then followed formal opening of the floor by the high table coupled with "processional" entry of Nd'Mbieri in the kind of egwu ure, recalling my memories to the days of egwu umu ada and joyous festivities when culture was still intact. After the procession and dance, Umunna of Los Angeles performed live with breaks between songs. Every attendant shimmied to the beat of the band's original folklore, "making people happy and keeping the crowd dancing." Umunna's music gave me a feel for egwu agba ochie, the real vibe in the heydays of egwu onwa, moonlight plays, folklore and highlife music, and not the ridiculous money campaign, spraying money in your face performed by the ilk of Coque Brothers and the changed Stephen Osita Osadebe.
Then again, the president's speech and "launching, launching, launching," the time for charity and kind gestures, donations and vice versa. While donations and pledges were being made, a whole lot of shaking and hugging was going on, men and women snapped pictures while happy little children ran all over the place. It was a good feel of community. It was the feel of culture made whole and not "even the sum of parts" as Nobel Laureate Wole Soyinka once put it.
I can't describe how much my spirit was lifted. It looked like my boyhood days when we played the hide and seek game during conventions like this, and our parents will be sneaking out to the porch and everywhere looking for us. I left the ballroom totally satisfied that "culture is not parts, it is a whole and an entity."
"Them changes," and as it happened, I suspended my rock classic freaky behavior listening to Peter Frampton, Boston, Rolling Stones, Uriah Heep, The Allman Brothers Band, Thin Lizzy, Eagles, Aerosmith, AC/DC, The Doors, Beatles, David Bowie, Van Halen, David Lee Roth, U2, Rick Springfield, Journey, Rare Earth, Grand Funk, Pat Benatar, Triumph, Bad Company, ZZ Top, Blue Oyster Cult, Foreigner, Rod Stewart, Genesis, Deep Purple, Black Sabbath, Middle of the Road, Men at Work, Bob Miga's Strangers, John Cougar Mellencamp, Bruce Springsteen, Don Henley, Kim Carnes, Bob Seger and dedicated the month of April and May to the music of Paulson Kalu, Celestine Ukwu, Ali Chukwuma, Prince Nico Mbarga, Ikenga Superstars, Eddie Okonta, Ofo, Ozoemena nwa Nsugbe, Harcourt White, Peacocks, Rex Lawson, the old Osadebe, and Bright Chimezie for "culture is not parts, it is a whole."
On my way home, egwu agba ochie, old school became my new cultural order as I flipped Nkengas in London CD with the masterpiece "Asampete Special" entertaining me all the way. "Culture is not parts, not even the sum of parts, it is an entity." I remembered that!
This article was exclusively published at BNW Magazine in April 2003
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