Salisu Suleiman.
The ability to forget is one of the most
important, if least acknowledged gifts of man. It is because we are
able to forget things that we can go one with life, putting aside
memories of lost ones as well as painful recollections of events that
would otherwise make the very act of staying alive a struggle, and life,
a running agony.
But while the ability to forget has its
benefits, not many people learn lessons from life’s experiences. Some –
either because they are essentially dense or deliberately obtuse –
choose to dare fate. How else can one explain the actions of the
president’s wife, Mrs. Patience Jonathan who thought it fit to close
Nigeria’s capital down for an entire day, in what basically amounts to a
brazen continuation of the campaign for her husband’s reelection?
For someone, who by her account, only
just managed to come back from the dead after multiple surgeries and
relapses, it seems that Mrs. Jonathan has not learned any lesson from
that experience. Or it may be that the gift of forgetfulness has
obfuscated her reasoning faculties. For anyone who had anything
meaningful to do (like reporting to work to earn legitimate livelihoods)
in Abuja, last Thursday was a commuter’s hell. The impunity with which
major roads were closed off is a pointer to what Mrs. Jonathan would do
if she were to remain in the villa beyond 2015.
As it were, many observers would say
Mrs. Jonathan never really stopped campaigning after 2011, but has only
changed styles. About two years ago, her attempt to share bags of rice
in Abuja ended in fiasco when about 20 Nigerians were trampled to death
in the mad struggle that ensured. She has been on a ‘thank you’ tour
since the last election, distributing food items, clothing and cash at
every stop. Her message: There is more where this came from. Reports
suggest that each of the 30,000 women that participated in the Abuja
jamboree with a mint-fresh bundle of N100, 000.
If Nigeria were a different country, we
might ask where and how Mrs. Jonathan gets the huge funds to oil her
‘generosity’. Did the first lady win a jackpot, or is the jackpot
personified in President Jonathan? Did she get an oil license or is she,
like her husband, a ‘godmother’ of the oil thieves in the Niger Delta?
But those questions would be incredibly naïve, considering that the
President’s septuagenarian mother, who could not buy shoes for her
children only just recently, donated a multimillion naira hostel to the
Federal University, Otuoke.
Whatever the sources of the funds that
the president’s wife is using for her nationwide political inducement
and from which his mother built and donated a hostel to the university,
the conspiracy of silence in the media, civil society and even some
opposition parties would only lend moral authority to this mentality of
‘it is my time, and there is nothing you can do about it’. The first
lady might mistake the silence for a mark of approval and take even more
blatant liberties with public funds. Perhaps, with this level of
extra-budgetary, or is it unbudgeted expenses, it should not be
surprising that President Jonathan’s government has consistently failed
to implement budgets even with unprecedented borrowings.
If Mrs. Jonathan could stop and reason
for a while, she would reflect on the examples of other equally
domineering wives of presidents and how they ended. Perhaps, even the
president would learn a thing or two from former president Ferdinand
Marcos of the Philippines. His wife, Imelda was a manifestation
everything a first lady shouldn’t be. Though from a deprived background,
she met and married politician Ferdinand Marcos who later become the
president of the Philippines.
As first lady of the Philippines for
over 20 years, Imelda Marcos held several government positions in her
own right, including governor of the metro Manila area and later served
as a minister. (Mrs. Jonathan is now a permanent secretary). And just
like Nigerians, while many Filipinos lived in poverty, Imelda Marcos
became known for her lavish spending, including her famed ‘3000’ pairs
of designer shoes (What it is about poverty and shoes?) In the end,
Imelda and her husband fled the country, where he died. If that example
is too distant, she should simply ask herself, ‘Where is Turai, today?’
Since the title of this piece was
inspired by Olu Rotimi’s Our Husband Has Gone Mad Again, I might as well
end it by quoting Nobel laureate Wole Soyinka, who wrote, in a thinly
veiled reference to the first lady, “Unlike crude oil, which can be
refined, you can extract a hippopotamus from the swamps, but you cannot
take the swamp out of the hippopotamus”. This may explain the futility
in attempting to counsel anyone that is so completely at home in the
muddy waters of presidential politics, power and patronage in Nigeria.
No comments:
Post a Comment