Daily Independent (Lagos)
McNezer Fasehun
3 November 2008
column
When in the thorny days of military dictatorship, Wole Soyinka found himself in prison custody for what was alleged to be his role in betraying the cause of the Federal Army to the Biafran rebels, the torture and agony he and others went through led to his writing the book The Man Died.
Although military dictatorship of the early 70s was nothing compared to its heavier cloud that would overshadow the land in subsequent decades, Soyinka's suggested mantra was that every citizen owed himself or herself a duty to have the photograph of a dictator beside his dining table where at the end of every meal he could virtually throw the slop of the meal at the photograph with a curse!
"I believe that the moment that power is deemed culpable in any way, each family should in place of, or after its regulatory morning prayers, make a ritual of throwing their breakfast slop at the pinned-up photograph of the symbol of power before going out to earn a living under an insupportable system. Every morning religiously...".That was vintage Soyinka. That was in the early days of military dictatorship in Nigeria.
Worse dictatorships have come and gone. We are now under democratically elected governments. At the three tiers of governments- the central, the state and the local governments- up till sub-local government ward, people in power canvassed for votes and were elected into offices. They were supposedly not self-imposed messiahs; quite so when we are not considering election rigging. Yet everyday the citizens have nothing to show for electing them into offices other than punishment and excruciating sorrows as they drive on the worst roads that can be found anywhere in the world.
Nigerian roads are hellish and scandalous. It does not matter how well mechanically assembled an automobile is, when it gets to Nigerian roads things must fall apart in it. Take a drive from a suburb of Lagos known as Iju, for instance. A drive from Agege to Ishaga and further down into the neighbourhoods that were misbegotten in that they are neither in Lagos State nor Ogun State is a drive to the kingdom of hell. Not only would your tyres and steering wheels be quaking the following day, your bone joints must have been beaten silly just by sitting in the car. When you wonder aloud if there are local government chairmen or councilors voted into office to look after the affairs of the place, the people would probably respond that they heard the Ogun State Government in this case Otunba Gbenga Daniels, under whose territory the place falls, has never been to the area. Yet the local government would never say they would not collect Inland Revenue since the Governor had never been to the place.
Other than the Inland Revenue collected by these parasitic government agents, the monthly allocation accruable to the local governments goes into their private coffers which they spend in sending their own wards abroad for medical check-ups or further studies. To them it is booty well-cornered. It is a way of having their bread buttered from the spoil of office. They, upon such windfall would go to church or mosque to testify of the blessings from their ill-gotten wealth. They ride in the best of cars. They live in the choicest area of the community. Their children attend the most expensive schools and universities around.
Yet everyday the masses are waiting for hours for the bus to come, everyday the masses are cramped inside tight-fitting vehicles, every time they are juggled up as they travel on crater-filled roads. The heavens themselves record that in eating from their ill-gotten wealth, they are eating the bread of sorrow. Guiltiness, as Bob Marley would say, rests on the conscience; they eat the bread of sorrow. Every drop of sweat arising from the torture of traveling on the torturous roads occasioned by the kleptomaniacs in government is a measure of the curse on the individuals who have the responsibility of discharging the duty of governance, but have woefully failed to do so.
The citizens, the voters, owe it a duty to collect their hand bills or posters when they are canvassing for votes, keep same and make a pin-up of their photographs upon winning the election. These are the breed Soyinka believed we should have their pin-up photographs thrown the slop of their breakfast at the place of or after their morning devotion, religiously. They deserve our disaffection and ill-will. They are the pests we must rid the society of.
My fear however is that some days in no distant future, the masses would one day close-in on ward councilors, local government chairmen and other government officials to unleash their anger and frustration. The history of revolution has shown that the masses revolt spontaneously when their tolerance of misgovernance is stretched to the limit. They would hardly have second thought of the consequences or what may be the fall-out of their action. When they read in the newspapers daily how millions, billions and trillions are filtered away in controversial circumstances and it does not seem to translate into a better condition of life for them, then something will surely give someday.
It is my sincere counsel to colleagues and friends who want to venture into politics in the next dispensation to gauge the public mood before they make attempts. It is written all over the faces of the Nigerian citizenry that it may no longer be business as usual in another political dispensation. Again as the legendary Bob Marley would sing: "You can fool some people sometime; but you can't fool all the people all the time. (And) now you see the light; you (got to) stand up for your right...".
Yes military intervention is old-fashioned and has never helped the cause of the common man. But time is around the corner when government functionaries would be brought to judgement for all acts of omission and commission while in office. Our people may just wake up one day to say that the ravening clouds shall not be long victorious, they shall not be long possess the sky, and may just choose to say: Enough is enough. We hope today's buttered bread will not turn to bread of sorrow for our brothers and sisters, the politicians.
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