Just Me Excerpt

8/6/2019 Just Me Excerpt

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©Copyright Arinola Awokoya, 2011The right of Mrs. Iyabo Arinola Awokoya to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted

in accordance with the Copyright Act 2001

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or

otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.



Dedication

To God Almighty who created me own image and sent me forth to the world to do my bit.I pray that I will fulfil your purpose on earth and continually abide in your presence till Iam called to be with you in glory in Jesus’ name. Amen.

To my parents, the Honourable Mr. Justice Rasheed Olabamidele Fawehinmi (rtd.) andMrs Gertrude Ebun Ololade Feawehinmi (nee Shogbola) for bringing me forth into theworld and nurturing me these past 50 years with love and goodness.

To my older brothers, Dr Olawale Oludolapo Fawehinmi and Mr. Olaitan OlugbolahanFawehinmi for sharing the journey of life with me all these years and for still being in myorbit of love and goodness.

To my husband, friend and partner for the past 25 years, Omodele Adebayo Awokoya,for allowing me wings to soar and not trying to clip my wings at all.

To my darling daughter, Omodesola Olufimihan Ajibike Awokoya for making my life afulfilment. For being my precocious bundle of joy. For making me a life-long learner as Ilearn new things through your eyes. For your verve for life that changes all things whichthreaten melancholy in my life to joy and hope. Love you lots baby girl.



Preface

This treatise contains some perspectives of my philosophy on some aspects of life and

living and attempts to grapple successfully with my existence as a unique piece of God’s

world, fathoming the import of my actions vis-à-vis my make-up, genetic and otherwise.

It is not a biography, but a peep into my make-up. It is reflection of my life past and a

gaze at the future and it is being written at the appropriate age of 50.

Maturity brings forth in every human being some constancy, some correlation to the very

facet of the matured person, such that his or her alignments become formed and set in

many particular respects and he or she becomes known for certain attitudes and

behaviours. That is what has happened to me and rather than let people speculate about

my alignments and attribute meanings, correctly or erroneously to them, I have thought it

best to present to the world “me”, “Just Me” just as I am.

I am no apologist for age and wisdom and neither am I arrogant in my person per se. I

have just got to the comfortable age in life when I can with boldness and self-

assuredness say to the world - “this is me, take me as you find me or leave me as you

find me, whichever is appropriate.”

I had thought and planned to publish the full work (my yet untitled book) from which this

excerpt is drawn on my 50th birthday which is today the 9th of May 2011, but some

intense pressure of work occupied my time these past 4 months and since I am an

ardent fan of hard work, I thank God for the provision of the work which has stalled, but

has not truncated my goal to have the complete works published in the year of my 50 th

birthday.

Perhaps conceiving using a book publication as a milestone of achievement at 50

smacks of a lack of humility and God is teaching me a lesson in such, I do not know, but

to me, part of maturity is the ability to weigh everything and put issues into perspective.

Should I have ignored my work in favour of completing this treatise or should I have got

the work done and delayed on the publication of my treatise. I chose the latter and I

believe it is the right decision. My complete philosophy will still be published in thecourse of my 50th year. That is a promise!



So what readers will get will be just three or four reflections. Some were written as far

back as 1998 while others are more recent, some are deep while some are sublime and

some others are just written for the heck of it, to poke some fun at some issues. Some

express anger and others express frustration. The full work promises to be exciting since

I have a lot to say, but presently, this publication is a teaser, inviting the reader to look

into the window of a dark room and glimpse a hint of the decorations inside. Since the

room is dark, the viewer will see just a bit and imagine the rest.

I invite readers to read with an open mind. You may get upset at some perceived

arrogance or at some seemingly obdurate views, but please understand that obduracy

and “some” pride are also part of my make-up and so in a complete coming out of “the

closet” (the armchair or sofa-bed critic type), I am as frank as I possibly can be and will

not apologise for it. I feel I have strong views on many issues and I have taken the liberty

of age to express my views in this work.

Finally the day I have looked forward to for a while has come. Today the 9 th of May,

2011. I am 50 years of age and God has ordained that I will spend the day hard at work

and that it will be in the company of Heads and Administrators of Lagos State Secondary

Schools; participants in my company-Sages Consult Limited’s Management and

Leadership Training under the Lagos EKO Project. You are appointed to be my guests

today and this is just the way I want my birthday to be. I did not want any party or

function and had planned to be out of the country on this day, but what better way to

avoid the party than to be hard at work. To me, 50 is not the time to be partying, but a

time to take stock, conduct an evaluation and then rethink action plans towards making

the remainder of one’s life to account for even better than the first part did.

You will all receive a copy of this book as my gift to you, but I expect no gift in return. On

this day also, I re- launch my three main charities and interests. I intend to dedicate the

remainder of my life to these charities and others that the Lord may appoint me for in the

future. They are:

• Culture Regard Society- Musical and Arts Society to promote the love of

Classical music in children.

• Seeking out children with high IQ and other talents who have not the means to

gain higher education and raising capital to pay school fees and maintenance

expenses during their entire time in the school. Not even setting boundaries for



their possible attainment, trusting that God who began a good thing in them will

be faithful to complete such in them and submitting to being used as a vessel to

bring this to pass.

• Serving God as a Sunday School Teacher at the Archbishop Vining Memorial

Church Cathedral (AVMCC), G.R.A, Ikeja, Lagos



Tomfoolery is dated1

I can say emphatically that I stopped being a fool ten years ago. That was precisely on

the 9th of May 2001 on my 40th birthday. Prior to then, it had been easy to thrust aside

every foolish act of commission or omission to the inexperience or foolishness of young

age. The Yoruba saying - “omode lo nse”- meaning that the act of commission or

omission was an act of childishness was most appropriate. But when I turned 40, I ran

out of that excuse because I became subject to the judgment of a unanimous world

epitomised in the saying that “a fool at 40 is one forever.” Stopped thereto by the import

of the saying, it became imperative to consider all further acts after the age of 40 in the

light of whether or not they would pass the “foolishness litmus test”. I took a decision and

did declare that tomfoolery had become a thing of the past in my life. With that

declaration I eschewed foolishness in all its ramifications from thence forward.

So it has been that in the past ten years preceding this day the 9 th May 2011, that I have

subjected every plan of mine or any act pursuant to any of my plans to scrutiny prior to

doing them or whenever they were spontaneous acts, after the fact. It became a sort of

ritual- conceive, ruminate and act, or act spontaneously, ruminate and act again either in

redress or in application of further buttressing actions.

So what then is foolishness?

A credible definition of foolishness is that it is an act done by someone who ought to

know better; an act that is devoid of good sense or judgement. This is my adapted

definition to define the foolishness of an adult. In the same vein it explains why a childcan be excused from a similar act which but for the fact that it was done by a child would

have been apparently foolish; because a child at the age of innocence is expectedly

devoid of good sense of judgement. That is why a child has parental guidance till he

attains the age of majority at 18.

There is the general understanding that when a child toddles around and falls down, he

picks himself up and he resumes his running steps always forwards towards safety,

1 Written on the 15th December 2010



usually into the arms of a waiting adult. A child never looks back to inquire as to what

made him trip, but an adult does the opposite as it should be. The adult looks back and

searches for the stumbling block that caused his fall. That again is as it should be. An

adult must learn from experience, while the child must not stop the process of

developing intellect and wisdom by subjecting his actions to too much introspection at an

early stage as no one expects him to. He is expected to go on a voyage of discovery,

knowing no fear and experiencing total freedom. And this is why the mature excuse the

actions of the child.

The child is excused because life may not have availed him of experience that the adult

has been availed of, and so he may not be expected to know better. A foolish act can be

foolish because it results from a lack of knowledge and so because a child may not have

much knowledge, the child may be excused, whereas an adult is expected to seek

knowledge in all things if he did not have them before embarking on an act which may

well turn out to be foolish. That is why the world does not forgive the foolishness of age

but forgives that of the youth.

The English language portrays the import of the word “foolish” so richly especially when

synonyms of the word are considered. The American Heritage® Dictionary of the

English Language2gives the synonyms for the word foolish as silly, fatuous, absurd,

preposterous, ridiculous, ludicrous...“These adjectives are applied to what is so devoid of

wisdom or good sense as to be laughable: a foolish expenditure of energy; a silly

argument; made fatuous remarks; an absurd idea that is bound to fail; a preposterous

excuse that no one believed; offered a ridiculous explanation for his tardiness; a

ludicrous criticism that was immediately dismissed etc.” The Yorubas also have rich

synonyms to portray the word “ode” which is an almost equal meaning of the English

word “foolish.” Ode has synonyms of; oponu, omugo, sugomu, supo sumondere, eda,

apoda etc.

The gravity of the meaning of the word foolishness so richly impacts on the person when

the word’s synonyms are considered. If you were Yoruba you would not wish to be

called an “apoda” because it almost gives an equivalent translation of the English word

“idiot” which paints a picture of a person drooling at the mouth and appearing retarded.

Thus it would be grave indeed to be seen as ludicrous or ridiculous.

2, Fourth Edition copyright ©2000 by Houghton Mifflin Company. Updated in 2009. Published by Houghton Mifflin Company.

http://www.eref-trade.hmco.com/

http://www.eref-trade.hmco.com/



Most defamation cases are prosecuted because the offending written piece subjects the

targeted victim to ridicule in the estimation of the ordinary reasonable man in society. If

men and women would risk further ridicule in court to ensure that their reputation is held

sacrosanct then it is madness indeed to personally cultivate a reputation of folly. And this

is the import of this piece. That there is a need to pursue attributes of wisdom and

eschew foolishness from the age of 40.

The declared age of an end to folly

Ten years gone by and writing this treatise, I decided to examine the rationale for the

age ceiling for the end foolishness? Why is it that the world is unanimous that at 40

foolishness ceases to be excusable? Why is it that before that very important agemistakes and foibles were easy to forgive?

The answer lies in the adages of various cultures. “Forty is the old age of youth; fifty is

the youth of old age.”3 The age of 40 is significant because it marks the end of youth and

begins the youth of old age as Victor Hugo said. At that age human beings have

matured, the hormones that raged in puberty have settled down nicely as pals to the

chemical make-up of the person and they no longer war against it. The intellect has

been stimulated at this age by education which had commenced from kindergartenthrough to tertiary institutions, and experience of life has been met in varied forms with

hopes raised and dashed and joys and sadness experienced. The emotions have been

stimulated and the early rush of pure unadulterated lust should have settled into love

and marriage and family life with children born that are moving towards their own heights

of emotional stimulation. These children would be looking up to the parent. Thus

responsibility for development of sound principles and morals lie with the adult and as

such the adult must leave foolishness behind lest he raises foolish children.

Another interesting thought is that at 40, a man or woman would have tried most things

and be able to ascertain which ones suit him and which do not. Hopefully all the bad

habits would have been tried and discarded. From toddler age to 40 it is usually an uphill

movement of growth, experience, more growth and more experience whereas from 40

upwards there is a period of matured growth but there could easily be a spiralling

downwards downhill if the matured mind fails to mature in the right way. Forty is the

youth of old age quite rightly because it is a time when philosophical leanings are formed3Victor Hugo quotes (French romantic Poet, Novelist and Dramatist, 1802-1885)

http://thinkexist.com/quotation/forty_is_the_old_age_of_youth-fifty_is_the_youth/144358.html


http://thinkexist.com/quotes/victor_hugo/

http://thinkexist.com/nationality/french_authors/

http://thinkexist.com/occupation/famous_poets/

http://thinkexist.com/occupation/famous_novelists/

http://thinkexist.com/occupation/famous_dramatists/

http://thinkexist.com/birthday/february_26/

http://thinkexist.com/birthday/may_22/

http://thinkexist.com/quotes/victor_hugo/

http://thinkexist.com/nationality/french_authors/

http://thinkexist.com/occupation/famous_poets/

http://thinkexist.com/occupation/famous_novelists/

http://thinkexist.com/occupation/famous_dramatists/

http://thinkexist.com/birthday/february_26/

http://thinkexist.com/birthday/may_22/





and pursued, when wisdom is listened to and appreciated, when foolishness is

unfashionable. It is a time when the person begins to be very respected and relevant in

his community and society and he assumes roles of leadership. It is an age when no one

will call a man too young to do anything. It is simply a period of relevance. It is an age

that no one must toy with and definitely foolishness in any form indicts the person and

indicts his parents as regards the training he could have received in his youth. Forty is

the age when a man is judged by society.

A wise lady once said that “life begins at 40-but so do fallen arches, rheumatism, faulty

eyesight, and the tendency to tell a story to the same person, three or four times.” 4 Forty

again thus represents the stage that the physiological processes of the human beings

starts to show evidence of deterioration. It seemed almost that it happened overnight

when I discovered that I had to squint in order to see objects that were close to me. The

first time it occurred, I was trying to pick out a particular key from a bunch and wanted to

read the label on the key. It was a shocking experience to discover that I had to move

the key further away from me. Being myopic ordinarily and used to wearing glasses for

long sight I knew that my short-sightedness was becoming more limited and I paid a visit

to my optician. Her first comment was “welcome to the forties.” She then asked how old I

was and I told her that i turned 40 about 5 months prior. It was a truism that at 40 the

body starts showing signs of active degeneration. When the body begins to fail in the

physical, the brain however kicks in and begins to mature. Which takes me to the

observation of Benjamin Franklin when he said rightly that “at 20 years of age the will

reigns; at 30 the wit; at 40 the judgement.”5

The Yorubas from Nigeria, the indigenous tribe from which I hale have a forgiving spirit

for the foolishness of youth as reflected in many of their adages. – owo ti omode ba koko

ni guguru ati epa lo ma fin je.. to forgive the wastefulness of youth, but once the person

crosses to maturity then the Yorubas are vicious in condemning the foolishness of an

adult. (look for an adage) Agba iya, Apoda…..

Declaration of death to foolishness

So I return to my declaration 10 years ago; to eschew foolishness.

4Helen Rowland quotes (English-American writer, 1876-1950) 5 Benjamin Franklin

http://thinkexist.com/quotes/helen_rowland/

http://thinkexist.com/quotes/helen_rowland/



The first habit I deliberately decided to cultivate was the practice of ruminating about

issues. A fool is foolish because he does not think deeply before acting. If foolishness

was to be far from me, then I had to develop that attribute which God had already given

me-the ability to dissect issues and analyse them bit by bit till the process leads to

informed decision making.

Before 40, I was quite adventurous and given to commencing so many activities

simultaneously. My life epitomised that of a busy bee. Every business idea was tried out

and when some failed, I chucked the failure as experience and moved ahead without

bothering about loss of time or money. I was naïve but ironically also highly

impassioned. This combination made me to suffer a lot emotional trauma in the hands of

friends and acquaintances. The naivety made me to think that people should naturally

understand me and my innermost motive which to me was so patently good. It was part

of the foolishness of my age then that made me feel that human beings would grant me

the benefit of the doubt. It was my naivety that made me to assume that human beings

are generally good natured. Whenever I was hurt by some unguarded word or critique of

my motives, I took it hard and felt it was some personal failure on my part that made

people hurt me. I never thought to understand that the world is not a fair place and no

one promised that it would be so.

Human beings are not nice normally, they have rather a selfish heart and this

selfishness leads them to dark hearted actions. You cannot trust in the motives behind a

smile, the smile could harbour satire or sarcasm or cunning whereas the natural and

normal expectation from a smile is that it is an expression of pleasantness. You also

cannot be sure of the venom in the expressed anger of human beings because some

seemingly dangerous anger could just be “shakara” while others with seemingly mild

volatility may portend deadly intention. Just as a smile could harbour dangerous motives,

anger could portend no evil greater than mere vituperation. But you will not believe it that

that same anger could lead to death as the smile could. So I learned the lesson well

never to trust the smile or the anger.

Code of Conduct to eradicate folly

Eschewing foolishness to me has resulted in the following code of conduct:

•I follow my bent always and do not and will not change my principles on anyaccount.



• Maturity may bring change in attitudes and tolerance levels to societal foibles, but

it will not lead to a change or waiver of principles on my part.

• The perceived normality of the majority will not sway me to that normality as my

normative value is derived from my personal convictions and principles and not

from the commonality of the majority’s.

• Vanities and idiosyncrasies of a derailed society which thrives on pursuing the

mundane will remain a mirage for me because it may be an ideal to others but to

me it epitomises the debasement of the rationale for living.

• Since I judge society especially the Nigerian society harshly as pursuing the

inane and the foolish in most particular respects, I should and I do expect the judgement of society about my ideals to be so judged with a similar measure.

• As I mature in age, so must I strive to mature in wisdom! To this end, I must

pursue all things the wise do, which include being distinct and distant, staying

apart from the crowd, spending time in deep thinking, cultivating sobriety,

impacting positively on society, being useful to society and more than all

focusing on things eternal knowing fully well that this world is temporal and the

temporal things are ephemeral and of lesser value than things eternal.

• I will pursue a focused and purposeful life seeing that a greater part of it has been

used in growing up, and being grown up, determined not to waste the remaining

part of it on silliness.

• In order to understand the foolishness to avoid, I must take apart always society’s

common actions that give room to some silliness and stay away from such.

• I must inspire the younger generation to pursue some of my ideals especially the

ones that expect greatness from them and because of this I must continue to

aspire to greatness in everything I do. To me greatness is not about being

recognised by the world but about being excellent in everything one purports to

do, never lacking in integrity and in hard work. Never shoddy in preparation and

delivery. Always striving for the best.

• I believe in the Nigerian child and have a passion to get them to eschew

indolence and those very factors that have handicapped Nigeria from meaningful

development these past 51 years.



On Life and its Many Facets6

Virtually everyone at one time or the other has had to ponder on the essence of life. I

know that I have. I have several times wondered at my very existence. Why am I here on

this side of the divide? How was the decision made to send me to earth? Was it the will

of my parents or just the will of the Almighty being fulfilled through them? I chose to

believe the latter, for surely the act of procreation engaged in by my parents did not

assure them of the features I would have despite the genetic contribution. I am very

different in features and characters to my siblings. I am a unique me. So definitely the

uniqueness must have been the handiwork of a superior being. So on getting to the

earth and seeing the many steps that must need be taken to grow and the difficulties it

was bound to happen, that several times in the course of life, I would have to question

the rationale of being forced to come to the earth especially as no one enquired prior to

the putsch for my opinion.

But it is the same quandary that we all find ourselves in. We are all equal in that regard

that we get to earth and have to live and make the best of the situation. There just is no

sense in crying over spilt milk as it were because cry or not, you are forced to live in the

world until the time appointed for you to take a bow off the stage. We will grow whether

we like it or not. Infancy will give way to toddler time and the terrible twos and threes will

pass, the kindergarten days will grow to primary and secondary and puberty will perform

its usual tricks on our bodies and minds and then we start the adult life where we now

are the real architects of our fortune and/or misfortune as we choose.

We will grow whether or not we like it. It is compulsory. Time cannot be stopped and so

the only allowance is whether we grow properly nourished or malnourished in all

regards, body, mind and spirit. Whether we grow to maturity or not? Whether we make

significant contribution or we remain mediocre all through it all. And this is where our

individual attributes and “take” on life make a difference. This is where our philosophies

either distinguishes us or sets us apart for nonentity.

6 Written on the 16th of December 2010



I am a woman of faith but not someone you would refer to as overtly religious. By that I

mean that I do not wear my belief in a physical form, proclaiming to the world what I am.

Just like in most things, I run against the grain in this wise. You will not see posters and

stickers in my house or on my car telling the world what faith I profess. You may even

find that I do not overtly talk about my faith in public especially in a debate, but I do hope

that many will be able to testify to the fact that I am a Christian from their interactions

with me. That is my expectation; that I shall continually bear fruits that let people identify

me as a believer.

I believe strongly that there is a God who directs the affairs of human beings. I believe in

salvation and that there is judgement as a fact. It is a simple thing that I can easily and

logically comprehend, that you cannot live your life as if there would be no recompense.

No matter how smart you may think you are there is always a point of reckoning. So I

watch others live as if there is no supreme being out there taking stock of their nefarious

deeds. Alas!

The platform upon which I practice my belief is that of Christianity and I strongly believe

in all the foundational principles and tenets of the Christian faith. I believe in the trinity

based doctrine of Christianity. Having said that, I also say that just like Biblical Job, one

of my strongest philosophies in life is epitomised by Job’s statement that “even though

He (God Almighty) slays him (Job) substitute for me, yet will I worship Him (God

Almighty).7”

With the constancy of Job, I depend on God Almighty and I confirm that though he slays

me, yet will I trust in him, (Job 3:15.) This is a high expression of faith, and what we

should all labour to come up to-to trust in God unreservedly that when things seem

totally abysmal, when adversities reach unbearable stages, when the world and all in it

seem against us, when it is an uphill task to take the next step or live through the next

day, when literarily though he slays us, we can trust and abide that God knows best and

he is with us and will see us through. I am thus well pleased with God as a friend even

when he seems to come forth against me as an enemy, (Ch. 23:8-10.) I must believe

that all shall work for good to me even when all seems to be against me (Jer. 24:5) for

this is the essence of my faith. My faith is one in which I must proceed and persevere in

the way of obedience, though it cost all that are dear to me in this world, even life itself,

7 Job 13: 15-17



(Heb. 11:35.) I rejoice in God even when I have nothing else to rejoice in, and cleave to

him especially when adversities threaten to make finding succour in him unthinkable. In

my dying hour I sincerely believe that I will draw from Him living comforts.

Because of the profound faith confession, I am able to face all life’s challenges and even

embrace them, because if I must stand on my faith then I must be able to live the faith

which promises that I am with you even to the ends of earth. I must be able to count

everything as joy, even trials and tribulations. Yes, there have been trials and tribulations

in these 50 years of mine and I expect more because God promised me that trials and

tribulations will come, yes. Make no mistake about that. God’s words are emphatic- It

says “when you walk pass through the waters, they shall not overflow thee, when you

walk through the fire, you shall not be harmed, for I am with you”. God said when and

not if. The Christian faith is a faith based on trust and belief and obedience. We will be

tested as Christians otherwise we will not grow in maturity as Christians. If we are not

tested, God has no measure to weigh our faith by. Those whom he trusts, he tests and

those who withstand the test and are overcomers he promotes even to higher work.

I have laid a foundation for this piece on my faith in God and hopefully this will explain

my philosophy on life. Since this piece is however not my biography (I have not attained

much to feel a compelling need to write my biography), I will not give details of

adversities that I have faced in life. But again it would be very unfair on God Almighty to

even think that the few anxious moments or hiccup moments I have experienced in life

have been adverse. They succeeded in just making me stronger in my faith. They did

not take away but rather added value to me as a living being. They made me into a more

humane creature able to appreciate all God’s children and able to be empathetic to other

people’s issues.

This then is my take on life:

Many say that life is a journey but I say that life is a road. A journey has a beginning and

an end, but it focuses mainly on those two milestones; the beginning and the end- the

birth and the death. On a journey all you are focused on is reaching the end of that

journey, but such a focus may be myopic or restrictive, it may make the traveller avoid

danger; turnaround from difficult terrains; fail to test his limits or fail to soar; because of

being overtly conscious and careful that the end of the goal is to reach a journey’s end. I



see life rather as a road that must be traversed to reach a journey’s end. I focus more on

the road because it is the way that leads from the beginning of the journey to its end.

The road signifies the most important facets of life, the twists and turns along the way,

the dangers lurking on the path, the hills and moles and valleys, the surprising corner on

top a climb, the cascading downhill rides, the crossroads which affords choices but gives

no indication as to which would be beneficial. The surprises, the beauty on the way, the

trauma and hazards, the unexpected accidents, the sad tales of accidents met which

involves us personally or which do not but touches our humaneness.

A wise friend and brother contributed this logic when I discussed this concept with him.

He said that on most obituaries the summary of a man’s journey is written as two dates

with a dash in between – e.g (Chief Obafemi Awolowo: 1909-1987). While these dates

are significant, what a loss to society if the life and times of such a great man is reduced

to those two dates when all the achievements are contained in the small figure-the dash

in between. The dash period represents the road the man travelled, the various things

that happened in his life and leave us with such wonderful philosophical insights.

Life indeed is a road. It is the road that you traverse to reach your journey’s end. It is not

just a journey. The journey is the end, which to all mortals means heaven. No one ever

thinks of ending up in hell.

With this view about life being a road, it is more amenable to discovery. Life’s facets are

the many discoveries you meet on the road, the contrasts and contradictions; the beauty

the ugliness of scenery, people and ideas. The insecurities, the excruciating poverty on

one hand put against the vulgarity of some affluence and riches of some people, the

man made troubles and the vagaries of nature, global warming occasioned by emissions

and felling of trees against tsunamis that rage unannounced wiping out people in their

thousand in the course of mere days. All these make the road less than boring and

definitely eventful and man’s ability to traverse the road and pitch his wits and energies

against opposing forces all make for interesting collision incidents. I have experienced a

few of these many facets of life. I will touch on some and some I will not bother with.

Looking back on life with benefit of 50 years hindsight, I see so many of the roads that I

have traversed. When you are travelling, you need a map and/or compass, today’s

technology has produced the Tom Tom (a little genius equipment that talks to you and



directs you to your journeys end) I believe it takes the fun off the travel. But luckily, Tom

Tom or none, atlas and maps aside, human beings still miss their way and have to

retrace their travel back to familiar terrain from which they would then reassess positions

and evolve new strategies to get on the right path once more. Sometimes when they are

lost, they need a guide to help them through some paths and sometimes the guide

misleads them, but one way or the other, eventually, most reach the end of the road and

can look back and tell the story of overcoming.

I have had one atlas and a few main guides through my 50 years sojourn. The Bible has

been the book of law and philosophy that I consciously have made my atlas and in it I

have never lacked knowledge and wisdom to traverse my road. At a young age growing

up in the Roman Catholic strict religious faith that was my mother’s and mine for a period

of 25 years till my marriage in 1986 to an Anglican, the Bible did not play such a

significant role in my life. I knew only the tenets of the Catholic faith through the

Catechism that I learnt in Catholic boarding schools from age 7 till age 15. The strict

adherence to catholic norms of worship brought discipline of worship. Mass was every

day of my life for the most significant parts of my life but the Bible did not come alive until

I started to go through some adversity early in marriage and remembered that strength

comes from inner convictions. My “religiosity” kicked in to search for and find that inner

conviction and derive the strength from Jesus who became my lord and saviour in 1988.

The Bible was and still is the most credible atlas. But the Bible also has given me a

guide on the road of life in Jesus Christ. I challenge anybody to find an alternative guide

that can surpass the wisdom for life that the Bible offers its students. I am an avid reader

of theology and philosophy and have read so many religious books but none of them

have the central theme that the Bible has which is that we have a guide to eternal life,

Jesus Christ, the way, the truth and the life. And the simple truth about Christianity is

that it is a child centric faith. You just must believe in God as a child with all the

innocence of that state of mind, where a child trusts unwaveringly. A child’s pure

innocence makes him or her to believe the words of adults. It is the same childlike faith

that Christianity wants to believe in the words of the Father, to love and trust

unreservedly that God is the one who leads through life; that we are His, the sheep of

his pasture and that like the good shepherd that Jesus is; He leads us rightly to the

Father. I can relate to this kind of love, because I have had a second guide all through

my years in my earthly father.



My second guide is my earthly Father. I have had a relationship with my father based on

adoration and complete love as a child when I knew not much wisdom. But as I grew up

I began to notice that my earthly Father had faults because he is human, but faults or

none, I have loved my father for ever which to me means since I was born and as he is

still alive still I love him and will continue to do even when he is no longer visible in

human form. I also have believed implicitly in the assurance of his love for me. My father

would never hurt me and would never lead me astray and he never did. Till today I still

have that abiding love. What were his teachings that have stayed long with me—the

value of hard work to life and possessions, the value of an incorruptible existence-the

value of training children using resources that are not tainted with corruption-my father

always said-no bribe money was used to train any of his children and so he believed so

much that none of his children would ever turn out bad and none of us did. We all

graduated credibly and some most incredibly indeed!

My earthly father is the Hon. Justice Rasheed Olabamidele Fawehinmi (rtd). He was the

first man I was introduced to and became my scale for measuring the essence of men. I

am afraid he became my measure for how men ought to behave and I am afraid that

throughout my life I weighed the actions of most men I met by my Father’s

characteristics. If you were lazy, then you immediately fell short of expectations, if you

made promises and failed to deliver on them, you fell by another notch, if you slept too

much, you were in real danger of complete obliteration from my orbit of respect and if

you did not persevere in knowledge and seeking to gain more, if you were flighty and full

of silliness, If you did not read intellectual books after graduation, if you were not neat in

dressing and in appearance if you were indolent if you were irresponsible and given to

lasciviousness, then you were not worthy of my interest.

I know that I sound arrogant in this treatise but since this is an attempt by me to

understand the forces that shaped my philosophies, I am giving myself as well as my

readers a peep into the world that shaped me. I admire my father even as he is now in

his 83rd year on earth. I admire his intellect and wit and his insights into wisdom of the

world. I admire the fact that he has a conscience, which stops him short all the time from

doing things that will result into hurt for his wife (my mom) and his children. I may not

always agree with his actions, but I always understand where he is coming from in taking

those actions. I always know that the actions are thought out and that they were without

malice aforethought.



I have also been lucky to have a third guide in my mother, that solid unshakeable

woman of faith and courage. Her single minded purpose has been her home as her

orbit. Everything about her life ever since I was born was to keep her home secure. I

learnt a lot of life’s wisdom from her. My mom has a quiet fortitude and steadfastness

about her and great dignity indeed. She was and remains a fervent fan of every member

of her family and the greatest champion of her husband. My mom when her energy and

youth prevailed was as fierce as a lion when anything or anybody threatened her cubs.

All life’s struggles and trials were taken as granted. My mom’s only weapon was her

Rosary and her psalms. Her foray into deeper prayer intercessions led her to embrace

some of the Cherubim and Seraphim (an influence derived from a maternal aunt of hers

whom we all called Mama Aladura or Mama Lawanson) attributes of memorising and

reciting the psalms but never once did she waiver from the Catholic faith. Even now that

my mom is aging and going through some tense health moments, her abiding faith in

God remains steadfast. My mom never talks about death, is not preoccupied with the

things that are not hers to decide, she still has the quiet fortitude that bears it all. My

mom takes her medication without fail, does not lament her many pains and just takes

on every day as they come with equanimity. My mom’s anger never turns into flames.

So these two earthly guides have contributed to the “me” that is known to the world.

I have had many friends throughout the 50 years sojourn, but most of them will regard

me as an enigma. I have regard for them but I am not overt in my affections. I am

extremely introverted when it comes to emotional entanglements and so many do not

understand this trait in me. I have a near complete aversion to socialising and because

of this I do not have a great many meeting points with friends. (More of my philosophies

about socialising later on in this book.) So many friends over the years have felt ignored

and abandoned and have in turn given me up to the point that hardly now do I even get

invitations and that suits me just fine. At 50, I have earned the right to declare to the

world that “this is me, just me”

I can be called any name that is not savoury and it won’t matter to me, but none of my

friends or adversaries would ever call me anything other than hardworking and on that

treatise I stand and with heaven’s assent on the day I turned 50, my God fulfilled a wish

of mine and provided a full dose of hard work to mark the day.



The Barbarian Justice8

The Theatre:

Enter the “Righteous”, screaming in a frenetic manner. He has just been robbed of his

possession. The priceless jewel is a motorcycle, nicknamed in infamy by the people as

“Okada.” As the “Righteous” screams in the public place, very near a motor park, he

finds an “eye” witness who believes he can identify the thief, and off the officious witness

goes on an “Okada” in hot pursuit of the villain. The “Righteous” jumps on another

“Okada” and they both chase after the hapless villain. A mob gathers round the alleged

scene of the crime and ponders on what had occurred! The mob listens hard to the gist

of the story told to them in “vivid” terms by an officious bystander who witnessed the

chase but not the theft and the mob grows progressively indignant. The mob is made up

of “Okada” riders and jobless would-be passengers. The mob is here christened as “The

Righteously Indignant”.

As the Righteously Indignant waits, someone on yet another infamous “Okada” arrives atthe motor park with a tale that an “Okada” thief had been caught just one kilometre away

from the park. The Mob immediately adjudges the person caught as the thief and go

after him with the intention of doing him physical body harm or at worst killing him.

8 Written circa 1998



The next scene enters with the Righteously Indignant, already murderously inclined, and

all arriving the stage on “Okadas”. In less than five minutes about 50 to 80 motorcyclists

arrive on their “okadas”, each rider bearing at least one passenger. A mob of about 100

to 160 gathers at Golgotha, the place of murder. The owner of the allegedly stolen

“Okada” is overwhelmed by so much support. He is unable to talk, he just moves away

from the mob. He is so relieved to have got his priceless jewel back that he could even

afford to be forgiving. He suggests half-heartedly that he would rather take the man to

the Police Station. The mob is irked by his words, and threatens to deal with him for

being “yellow”. The Police Force is vilified in very strong terms.

The mob condemns the thief to death by roasting. In a twinkling of an eye, someone

finds an old tire, the man is overpowered, the tire is thrust via his head to his torso, his

body is doused with Petrol and he is set ablaze. The mob is elated and they scorn the

burning “villain” and continually add more used tires to the flames until the villain

breathes his last.

The place of the execution was at a junction of a major road in the Ikeja environs of

Lagos State, and the day was a Saturday. Commuters passed throughout the hours of

trial by ordeal that the man underwent. A long traffic hold-up ensued. However a lot of

the commuters would have been oblivious of what was happening, for the “Okadas”

formed a barricade of men and machines around the Villain. The place was just a few

metres away from a major Police Station, in fact an Area Command. No Policeman

appeared on the scene. A few metres away in the opposite direction was a police check

point with the officers busy at the work of the day, checking vehicle particulars and

watching out perhaps, for greater thieves than an “Okada” thief.

The next day brought awareness to most commuters. It was a Sunday and they were

confronted with the charred remains of what then was confirmed to be a human being

perched on some burnt up tires, some bones sticking out in a manner grotesque. The

commuters all go to Church and some are sad and upset at the sight, but some feel

some righteous satisfaction. Without benefit of information, they justify the mob’s action.

There were just too many thieves around and Nigeria needed so much to be rid of

rogues and villains. At about 11 a.m that day, some ringleaders in the murderous mob

return to Golgotha. They are still angry at the soul of the Villain though departed. So they

douse more petrol on his dead body, devoid of a soul and they burn him anew on



Sunday. The ringleaders spot a police vehicle approaching and in seconds they all

disappear on their “Okadas,” confirming that they were aware that they had done wrong.



Analysis

Did the Villain deserve to be murdered by the Righteously Indignant? What manner of

trial was he subjected to? Who ascertained that the Righteous actually owned the

“Okada”? Who were the witnesses to the theft and were their testimony subjected to

cross examination to test for veracity? Was the Villain allowed the benefit of calling

witnesses in his defence? When he was condemned to death by roasting, did the Mob

allow him an allocutus (a plea for leniency), did the mob listen at all to his pleas? Where

were the police as the inferno raged? Had he been taken to court, he would not have

been sentenced to death, because his offence would have been punishable by just jail

term. He could have become reformed in jail. Society may even have become happy at

his reformation. He could have fathered children that would be of immense benefit to the

family. Perhaps his act of theft was his first one? Perhaps he did it out of desperation of

hunger? No one gave him a chance of repentance. No one gave him a chance to live.

He was just executed by people who in more material respects were worse than him. He

was a thief, they were murderers.

The most pertinent question is this: What kind of renegade society allows such barbarian

justice? Note the use of words here. Barbarian justice as against barbaric justice.

Barbaric addresses the justice, whilst barbarian addresses the people meting out the

justice. Barbaric justice is justice indeed, as some would believe, it is just the execution

process that they consider to be barbaric. In this wise the consideration could be that

perhaps the villain should have been electrocuted, given the lethal injection, shot by

firing squad or hanged, rather than burnt in an inferno. The consideration in barbaric

justice would have been towards not offending the sensibilities of the citizenry. Barbarian

justice however, which is what concerns us here is justice of barbarians.



Remember them, the barbarians, they talk in thousands, the barbarians, they are

riotous, they are an epitome of confusion, the barbarians are. Remember what

Shakespeare said about them in Coriolanus; they are curs, ambivalent and vacillating

lily-livered beings who must work together as one with the strength of many. They do not

like peace nor care for wars. No one can trust them, they are neither friend nor foe, they

have no allegiance, none to their kith or kin or kindred. They do not even know who their

kith or kin is. They owe allegiance only to mood swings. They will hail today and crucify

tomorrow. The horde has been around since the time of our Lord Jesus Christ. They

were at Golgotha executing our Lord with their ambivalence and they are still around

keeping society in Nigeria backward. May the Lord save us all from the wrath of the

Righteously indignant unleashed.

Who can be judged right by barbarians? Imagine a scenario in which an infamous

“Okada” rider hits your vehicle from the rear and it is your ill luck that he and his

passenger are flung unto the road. Lucky for him and you that both of them are alive!

Who is vilified? Clearly it is you, after all, you are the deeper pocket, the richer party, the

oppressor. In a few seconds droves of “Okada” riders surround you and you are

adjudged guilty. No one calls the police, and no one points out to the “Okada” rider that

he is the guilty party and that he is lucky to be alive. You may be lucky to escape with

just being swindled of “settlement money” or if you are unlucky, you could get your car

smashed to smithereens and at worst you could be maimed or killed. That is the

essence of barbarian justice. Justice meted out by barbarians. Barbarian justice does

not accord to sense or reason. It is sheer non-sense.

Other questions arise: What ails the Police? What hinders the administration of justice in

Nigeria? Is it intellectual incapacity? Is it infrastructural inadequacy? Ponder a while.

Would more vehicles made available to the Police for use suddenly whip-up in them

sentiments of commitment to duty? It is doubtful? Would more pay erase the juicy taste

of “family support”? If perchance the police become efficient, would the judiciary and the

prison system become efficient? Will judges wake up from lethargy and start

adjudicating on cases with dispatch? One doubts!



The problem in Nigeria is not infrastructure inadequacy or inadequate remuneration. The

problem is in the character of the Nigerian and Nigeria. A people bastardised for long by

deceitful leadership cannot but take to deceit as fishes take to water. A total of fifteen

years of uninterrupted unscrupulous military rule has begotten a people without scruples.

A nation without NEPA (oh, I forget, PHCN) can only imbibe the culture of darkness,

which is the harbinger of all things evil and ignominious. A people without constant water

supply cannot understand cleanliness. A people whose hearing have been impaired by

constant noise of generating equipment through decades cannot but be hard of hearing

and cannot hear the still voice that preaches and offers redemption. Also, a people who

live amongst total chaos; disorder on the roads, disorder in town planning, disorder in bill

board advertisements, cannot admire orderliness and seek in anyway to be orderly.

Something must give in Nigeria, and it must be an attitudinal paradigm shift. Leadership

must change its mindset to that of accountability to its people. Education must be

functional and it must start again with moral injunctions and admonitions. We must go

back to deriving commandments and a code of behaviour based on fairness, equity and

good conscience. We must resolve one and all to make Nigeria work. We must question

the suffering we are all made to endure in Nigeria and reject it as not our lot. NEPA (yes,

before we address PHCN, let us go back to the root of failure which was not in ECN but

in NEPA) must work and water must be available to all. Our roads must be without rough

patches. We must re-create a nation where the rule is of law and not of barbarians and

where even the villain is entitled to his day in court.

The Villain did not deserve the self-conceited righteous indignation of the rabble. The

Villain did not deserve death by roasting, and we the citizens do not deserve to reside in

a society that does not value humanity.



Uncle Bola’s Death and My Cocoonof Delusion

It was well over a month after Chief Ajibola Ige, Attorney General and Minister of Justice

of the Federal Republic of Nigeria was brutally murdered that I wrote this piece.

Chief Ajibola Ige fondly referred to by many, as Uncle Bola’s was a truly remarkable

person. It took a month into the brutal murder before I was able to face the fact of his

demise. In that one month I deliberately refused to read the papers and listen to the

news for fear that my cocoon of delusion would be broken and the pain allowed into my

heart. Call it cowardice or delusion or some sort of escapism, but to me it was

therapeutic. If I refused to believe that my hero was dead, then perhaps he really wasn’t

dead and the whole dreadful drama playing itself out in the country in December 2001

was only a dream, which the nation would soon wake up from. (It was a similar escape

route I took to escape the horror of the ADC plane crash at Ejirin because my friend, an

air hostess had been on board of that ill-fated plane.)

But day in and day out the nightmare remained the same, it was still true that Uncle Bola

remained dead, felled by the bullets of some assassins yet to be named. My cocoon was

finally broken early in February 2002 as an information came that finally permeated my

coldness. My husband who had always had more courage than me on matters such as

this relayed to me that some high up authority in the Anglican Communion to which my

family belongs had said that; had they known that Uncle Bola belonged to the

Rosicrucian Group, they would not have allowed any of the funeral rites in his honour to

take place in the Anglican Church.

The dam, which had been caged in my soul, broke and I finally wept. I wrenched out my

heart and tears overwhelmed me for several hours. I managed to control myself

intermittently, but continuously the intermission got broken. I wept and wept and wept.

My own dear Uncle Bola! To be so disgraced! It was adding salt and pepper to an open

sore. A poultice to the tear in my soul. It seared my soul and scorched my heart. Why

judge him? In fact who could be his judge? He was so upright and honest and forthright.

Who can judge him I pondered fiercely, he was so fair- minded? Did Uncle Bola seek



any post in the Anglican Communion? If he had been asked whether he belonged to the

Rosicrucian sect or a secret society, he would have admitted it and argued his case out?

But I daresay Uncle Bola did not have to confront his secret society issue in the church

because he never aspired to be a priest or serve in the church. And he had no hand in

the planning of his own funeral, the Anglican Church itself voluntarily took on the funeral

of such a great man that they were proud of.

So what then can be said? Was the Anglican Communion wrong in its statement? I

cannot judge and will not make an emphatic statement. If the dictates of the church

forbids secret society membership from its adherents, that must be right in the eyes of

the church. But putting things into perspectives means realising that many people took

steps in the past they may not have been aware would lead them into bondage. Many

may seek to leave secret societies and may not be able to exit by the very nature of the

oath of bondage they would have subscribed to in ignorance of age. Christianity is all

about repentance and forgiveness and charity of spirit. No one can stand blameless

before God, hence the open door policy of Christ with the offer to all - that if we confess

our sins, God is faithful and just to forgive us and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

Putting the incident into more perspective, we can only mimic God on earth, we can

never judge the way the Almighty does. Look into the old testament and witness some

judgements of God on the enemies of the Israelites and you marvel at the complete

annihilation of some of their foes and take a look at the redemptive judgements on David

the adulterer and so many others in the new testament and you realise that the measure

of human judgement and that of God’s judgement are not equal.

I am an Anglican myself and I find that no matter what anyone may say about Chief Bola

Ige, he remains an icon I will forever be proud of and would forever also be honoured to

have known in person. Uncle Bola can never diminish in stature in my eyes. That was

the great man, friend to all, and one who truly loved humanity.

I remember how easily approachable Uncle Bola was at a small family reception held by

my big brother, mentor and Senior partner at Sages Consult (my office) - Dipl.-Ing.

Oluwole Komolafe for him. They (Uncle Bola and Mr Komolafe) had become acquainted

only through their love for reading. My friend, an avid reader of Uncle Bola’s column in

the Tribune had met Uncle Bola at a function in Cadbury Nigeria Plc where the former’s



wife was employed and had exchanged pleasantries with him after which their shared

interest in literature. Mr. Komolafe gave Uncle Bola a book he had authored 9 After this,

Uncle Bola insisted on visiting Mr Komolafe at work and later at home.

A few friends were invited to meet with Uncle Bola in Mr Komolafe’s home and I was one

of those who was so honoured. We had dinner and had a rare opportunity of talking with

Uncle Bola. We were all enraptured by him. He talked on various subjects, politics,

history, the military, Nigeria as a nation, the Yoruba race, family virtues, Christianity e.t.c.

I must confess that Uncle Bola was perfect. We got him to accede to contest the

Presidency. We believed so implicitly in him. Permit me to say that I had known Uncle

Bola before that day, he was my father’s contemporary and friend and he was happy to

be re-united to the daughter of a friend. I had also known him as a lawyer in practice.

Also I undertook my Youth service in Ibadan at the time Uncle Bola was Governor and I

admired him for his inspirational talks to the citizens of the state. I loved his ability to

speak several languages. But at the reception in my friend’s house I became an ardent

follower of Uncle Bola.

Let me tell you about Uncle Bola of that day. One young Christian zealot asked him if he

thought that non-Christians would amount to anything in the Kingdom of God and Uncle

Bola replied him this way? “I cannot judge people, only the Almighty can do that…. What

I know is the Christian faith and I observe its tenets, but I cannot say that the multitude of

Moslems and other worshippers of God through other means will go to hell. I cannot say

that…. And I am not competent to say that. I live that to the Almighty to decide. What I

know is people and I relate to them in that light. I love them and believe that there is

good in all of them. When they fall, they should be given an opportunity to redress and

change for the better. I believe in the ultimate good of all.”

I am not sure I quoted Uncle Bola verbatim, but this essentially is the import of what he

said. Uncle Bola loved people and believed that all men had innate goodness. That was

the Uncle Bola that I knew, the man whom all the people respect. Even the robbers gave

him honour. It is a known fact that they return things they steal from him the minute they

realise the identity of he who they stole from. That was the measure of Uncle Bola’s

integrity that no one wanted to offend him. The Uncle Bola I knew is the man who was

received with respect by the National Assembly and given a standing ovation that I have

9Komolafe O- Sayings of the Great Masters of Wisdom



written about somewhere else. The Uncle Bola I know is the one who stood up in NEPA

and let us all know about the cabal in NEPA, which insisted that Nigeria must remain in

darkness. He was the ice-breaker in the intractable problem in NEPA. He appealed to

the peoples’ sense of judgement. Presented the facts to the people and endeared

himself more to them. He was not a failure in NEPA but a success, because he exposed

the cabal to us all.

Uncle Bola it was who even when he had been betrayed by the “Afenifere” and Alliance

for Democracy (AD) compatriots in the presidential nominations still continued to

campaign for the AD ticket in the elections. Let the truth be said, Uncle Bola was a gem,

a true pearl of the nation and his demise is a great loss to the nation.

I had always wondered why a lot of people included the phrase “the wicked have done

their worst” in obituary announcements. I had always had a cynical attitude to the phrase

believing that when a man’s time is up it is up and no wicked had a hand in it. With Uncle

Bola’s murder in the hands of assassins who pumped bullets into his childlike heart, this

was finally the time when it was most fitting to say that “the wicked had done their worst

indeed”. I played back an imaginary scene in my mind. Knowing Uncle Bola, who was a

lawyer through and through, he, would have sought to reason issues out with his

assassins before the bullets silenced him. He would have wanted to know why and who

wanted him dead and he would have sought to defend his views even at the apparent

risk of his life. Uncle Bola would not have pleaded to be spared. He would have insisted

on his point of view and would have left the assassins to their consciences. Uncle Bola

believed in the good of man and left God to be the judge of man.

During moments of intense frustration, I have often asked the Almighty why he sent me

to Nigeria when he conceived of me in my mother’s womb. But not once did I actually

despair to the stage that I wanted not to be a Nigerian. However, Uncle Bola’s death was

the first incident that made me think seriously of going abroad to live. I simply wondered

if Nigeria as a nation state had the chance of survival. Of course, I have again repented

of the thought of emigrating because no one should make me change God’s direction for

my life and since the Almighty sent me to Nigeria, I will remain a Nigerian till He calls me

to His bosom.



From the drama that played out in the Oyo State judiciary where the accused persons

appeared before a court which seemed so on the surface but was comprised of several

elements lacking of serious adjudication, it seemed obvious that Uncle Bola’s

assassination was politically motivated and we all know that such murders are never

solved in Nigeria. The trial ended up with no convictions.

The fact that the accused persons were set free triggered the death of Hon. Justice

Atinuke Ige (Uncle Bola’s wife) through a heart attack or a stroke, I am not sure which.

What an irony! That the lady of justice who served the nation up to the Court of Appeal,

and her husband, the Chief Law Officer of Nigeria, the Attorney General of the

Federation, came for justice in the judicial system of Nigeria and got injustice! What a

terrible evil has taken root in Nigeria. What a colossal disgrace for the nation.

I as a Nigerian have had no justice from the system. In criminal cases, all Nigerians

demand justice. It is different from a civil suit where only the plaintiffs (the individual

claimants) are the ones demanding justice. In criminal matters, the entire society has

been wronged and they collectively demand justice and that is why the suit is filed by

The State against (Vs) the accused person. When we, the people do not get justice from

the system, society has suffered further debasement and we all collectively have been

abused.

So what remedy is open to me as an aggrieved party in the murders of Chief Bola Ige,

Chief Alfred Rewane, Dele Giwa, Funsho Williams and a host of others when the State

fails to deliver justice. I can only resort to another kind of justice which if mine to use- the

justice used by my kinsmen from Ondo town, in Ondo State of Nigeria- the justice of

sending out curses on the unknown culprits and asking God to avenge the deaths of the

departed patriots. It may seem puny, but I am praying that our collective thoughts and

curses to them will go forth to accomplish what we want:

Let curses rain and abide with all assassins, all those who have a hand in political

killings and all those who are part of the planning and implementation committees of evil

in the Nigerian political terrain. Let them not find peace till they die and let their lives be

miserable unless they confess to their evil deeds and face justice. Let all those who

rejoice secretly at the death of Uncle Bola for their own political gains also not find

peace. Let God arise and scatter the enemies of Uncle Bola especially because they are



the enemies of the nation and of democracy. Let God arise in this nation and bring about

justice. Let God be the judge of all.

Some reflection on the Nigerian politicalarena

What manner of people are Nigerians? Why murder your political opponents? How do

you ever feel victory when you silence an opponent? Who then do you contest against

and who have you tested your strength against? What kind of empty victory is won

against a dead man? Why must you serve a nation at all costs that it will cause you to

commit murder? What drives people to kill?

Final thoughts

Uncle Bola deserved the elaborate funeral he received. Period! Nothing should mar his

memory. I understand and appreciate the views of the Anglican Communion, but I refuse

to see Uncle Bola’s larger than life image diminish in any way by some actions he may

have taken sometimes ago in his life. Let’s face it, a jailed politician returned only

recently from jail and celebrated his return with a thanksgiving service in church and thechurch joined in the celebration. Was that wrong? I dare say not. Even the father of the

prodigal son rejoiced at the return of his wayward son in the Bible. That is the essence of

the forgiving Church which Christianity is! What of that church which received the spoils

of theft in form of tithes and offerings and refused to return it to the Police despite

knowing that the giver had admitted stealing the money from his employers! So many

things are wrong. The world is jaded, I am jaded. We are all seeking to ascertain our

morality anew and standards of morality are changing albeit, sadly.

Uncle Bola I salute you and say rest in the bosom of the Creator who you loved and

emulated throughout your life with your permanent and continued display of integrity.



It’s a Parrot and Dog Affair at

Number 13(An excerpt of this piece was published in the Guardian Newspaper under Pet life- Dr. Tunji Nasir’s Column in 2010)

The House is called Number 13 and the neighbourhood is in Adeniyi Jones area of Ikeja,

Lagos. The parties are a grey African parrot named Serena and a white Samoyed breed

dog called Chelsea.

Prior to Serena’s advent, Chelsea the dog reigned supreme; the cynosure and delight of

all eyes and pet of a 13 year old female teenager and her parents. Chelsea’s fluffy

whiteness was a marvel to all and in total agreement with her looks Chelsea was dainty

and always managed to keep clean. She also had a twinkle in her eyes and a little bell

around her neck which announced her majesty’s presence long before she arrived any

place. All was at equilibrium until Serena came into their lives.

Chelsea could tolerate Serena at first because she did not speak and only spent time

squawking in an irritating manner. But all that changed when Serena stopped being

serene and uttered her first word. You guessed- the injury was first bestowed on

Chelsea because everyone heard Serena call her name “Chelsea, Chelsea”, and having

tried it and seen the commanding effect it had on the named dog, who jumped out

happily believing she had been summoned by her owners, Serena continued adding

insult upon injury.

Soon Serena learnt other words and one by one she called everyone’s name in the

family and even laughed the same way the master of the house did.

Serena became a strong supporter of Arsenal and joined in the lamentation dirge

whenever her favourite football club seemed to be losing a match. She also joined in the

jubilation screech whenever the club seemed to be lashing the opponent.

Serena quickly became the favourite pet. It was a delight to hear her mimic names and

do so at the appropriate times. A “hello” sounded anytime anyone held a phone around

her or was speaking on the phone. Once the doorbell sounded, both Chelsea and

Serena would start barking and it was difficult to differentiate their voices. The driver

stood in awe every time his name was called out as he passed by Serena-“Wasiu,



Wasiu” showing truly that Serena was now able to identify people by their names. Even

grandma was saluted with “mama mama.” The daughter of the house was called in two

different ways- “Desola” the way Daddy called her and “Daise” the way mummy called

her and it was said at the exact time that she passed by.

At number 13, the rivalry continues but Chelsea appears right now to be more mature

than Serena and she just ignores the infernal bird. She does not jump to her name when

it is called by none other than her human benefactors anymore. Serena on her part is

not in the least peeved that she does not command the same respect from Chelsea as

before. She has found other parties to torment and her newer favourite words include

“Iyabo” “Awox” and “Scamp”. The first two names are those of her owners Mummy of the

house and the nickname of the Daddy of the house and the third name is that of the

newest dog, a female Alsatian breed whose favourite delight is to gaze at Serena

longingly and praying for a mishap that would bring the infernal bird out of her cage, that

she may have her for breakfast or dinner.

The import of this piece is to advise all of us to take time out to smell the roses and

appreciate God’s many creatures so that our lives may acquire deeper meaning. Health

and well-being can be promoted by our choices and one of those choices is to have fun

with nature. The parrot is a loving, albeit mischievous bird, while the dog is a loyal friend

and ally. But the fun and excitement they bring to a household is un-measurable.



The Nigerian Rich and their

Cheat IdiosyncrasyOne evening, I sat down to another time of reflection on the parody of the actions of

human beings. The pretentiousness of man is unparalleled. Righteousness is worn like a

cloak and it seems often that man proclaims to the world “I am righteous, see how

righteous I am” Man goes on to list his acts of righteousness and regales you with

instances where he gave to the poor and built houses for the needy. Man seems to know

instinctively what acts of kindness justifies him as being righteous before witnesses. He

tells of his contributions to the church building in his local church in the city as well as his

church in the village. He tells of no other contribution to any other church. The church

builder’s motto is that charity begins at home. Forget the fact that he the real motivation

is the desire for recognition from the people in the churches where he is known. It is

more difficult to be righteous before people who do not know you. The “righteous goes

on to give details of some launching organised for some needy cause or other where at

the event he contributed generously. In feigned modesty the “righteous” then brings out

the magazines or journals where his grand act of generosity is acclaimed and in the

greatest ironical display, he tells you that you are the only one who is so blessed as to

have the magazine shown to him. Na lie- he says that to every single person he shows

the magazine to, and he has shown it to many.

My eyes have seen it all. The average Nigerian “rich man” wants to be known and

respected by all. He demands respect from all. He cultivates respect and when he

believes he has seen some semblance of germination of respect, he tends it and watersit to bring forth more respect.

Let us examine the characteristics of a typical Nigerian rich man. He is a personification

of acquired respect. The paraphernalia of this acquired respect are as follows: first, he

builds a house in his village, and then he gives a village chief some money for the

conferment on him of some chieftaincy title. The title bestowed on rich men range from

the sublime to the ridiculous. Imagine a young man of thirty who caught no whiff of war

in his entire life, (since he did not even witness the Biafran war) is named the Jagunmolu



of somewhere, usually some obscure village where no hint of war could touch, and

another is named the Ajagunna of somewhere or Apagun (Killer of wars). Some titles

deal with some feats other than war feats, they portray the man or woman’s importance

in the town or how high the King rates him or her. These titles range from Otunba,

Bobajiroro, Bobagunwa e.t.c.

The foregoing examples have been drawn from the Yoruba tribe of Nigeria. The Ibos

from the east of Nigeria have taken the gauntlet and have decided to “out” award the

Yorubas in the question of Chieftaincy titles. The irony of this is that history teaches us

(unless history is wrong or was written by the white men in colonial days) that the Ibo

society is an egalitarian one not given to too much leadership or monarchical culture.

Some (ibo titles) onwatiliora, nwanikeliora, Eze, Igwe, Obi Eze ego e.t.c explain their

meanings,

Armed with the said title, which ranges as I have said from the sublime to the ridiculous,

the rich man purchases a new wife and a new car, the order of the purchases may vary,

but these two purchases are made. Then follows a spending spree unrivalled anywhere

else except by people in the category of egomaniacs! The purchases are usually

wasteful, there would be at least seven cars in a rich man’s household, one for him to

ride when he is to be chauffeur –driven, another for him to drive by himself when he

seeks nightly pleasures in anonymity. There is at least one state of the art car for the

dear wife, two multipurpose utility cars for the household, one to take the cook to the

market and one for general errand running. There would be one great car to take the

kids to school and one driver or two devoted to this chore and if the kids are in several

different grades and in different schools then there might well be up to two cars for the

school runs. The kids also would have one “pleasure” car to be used by the teenagers in

University.

Cars are not the only property the rich man has a surfeit of. He has several televisions in

the house, as many as there are rooms and crannies in the house. He has a swimming

pool although no one in the family can swim. He has clothes for every occasion and for

no occasion. He buys and buys and just keeps on buying. The wife starts where he

stops and acquires gold in bars as well as trinkets, precious jewels are not excluded at

all. The children follow in the footsteps of the parents and buy all modern technology



they do not need and sure can do without, IPADs, IPODs, Blackberry, Macbook, Sony

Playstation, Nintendo Wii, Walkmen and CD players.

All these spending jamboree go on and on and the rich man does not stop at any time to

wonder how on earth the poor people survive without any of these luxuries. But forget

the poor people, and consider the life of missionaries like Mary Slessor of old who

survived the harshness of the terrain and culture and native traditions and barbaric

religion of the Calabars to bring Christian salvation and modernity to the ancient

Calabar. Consider the present frugal existence of modern day missionaries who still

manage to impart training and knowledge to persons in the villages with less than

minimum standards of living. Remember the Roman Catholic Nuns who give become

celibate and yet look after many children.

The Nigerian rich man or woman does not impress me at all, because experience has

shown that more often than not, the average Nigerian rich man/woman is a cheat. He

preys on the people. His riches are acquired usually devoid of honesty in all

ramifications. The Yorubas have this very apposite adage “Isale oro o l’egbin”. This

means that when you look deep into a man’s riches the beginning is never really devoid

of some dishonesty or insult meted out on him. To most rich people, money is to be

acquired at all costs. The end justifying the means and the means are usually downright

dishonest. In order to keep acquiring more of the same and perhaps to also retain what

is already in hand the rich man perpetually seeks to cheat even the poor. Let us take a

look at the life of some so called rich people I have had the misfortune of observing

although for fear of reprisals in form of libel suits I will not have the boldness of

identifying them by name but I will tell their stories.

These accounts are all hearsay because I did not experience them personally:

The first one is about an exceptionally rich lady, who works for an oil company and also

engages in business as well. She does not honour her words and conveniently claims

she forgot ever making any pledges. She regularly mistreats domestic servants and

delay workers’ salaries.

There is also the case of a particular rich woman or the wife of a rich man who did not

pay December Salary in one year to the staff until worker’s resumed on the 12th of



January of the following year and yet had a party during the period to celebrate the

home coming of her children from America. She had told the workers that she had no

money to pay salaries and the workers and their respective families had a very gloomy

end of year holiday while the rich madam celebrated in style.

There is a third account of another rich man I know who loves wines and is a

connoisseur of wines. He could spend great sums to keep friends entertained with these

very expensive rich people’s drinks but his favourite pastime is to owe workers their

salaries. He habitually owes salaries.

I know also of one devoted or should I say fanatic Catholic who goes to Mass every

morning. She attends the Holy Cross Cathedral Mass every day and travels at least 3

kilometres to get there daily. She would accuse her cook/steward of stealing something

or the other from her home. These accusations came regularly in the last week of the

month when salaries were due. The poor cook/steward would spend the next two weeks

defending his honour and his salary of course would be delayed during this time. By the

time there are three accusations in a row, the cook would leave and abandon some two

months’ salary. The routine would start with the employment of another cook.

Yet another typical “big” madam with her house help- The accusations were always of

theft and always towards the end of the month. Some of the accusations were delivered

with grandiloquence- She would insist that the house-help stole her curtains and her

spoons and cutlery (which she called crockery) and she would insist on using the

hapless girls’ salary to defray the cost of the allegedly stolen items.

I remember fondly , the Madam who would shop and buy “special” substandard fish for

the maid and yet in the same shopping spree, buy special expensive fresh fish for

herself and family. This same maid is expected to clean her fish and often cook it for the

family. She had a maid good enough to prepare a meal for the family but not good

enough to partake at the feast. Perhaps one tiny fish could have been given to the maid.

Remember that at the Lord’s feast all are equal.

There are so many instances that demonstrate the pretentiousness of the rich, that the

mind is boggled. I remember a classic one of a woman- top politician who had a

servants’ quarters that was vacant, but insisted that the house-help should sleep under



the stairway unprotected and without privacy. The house-help only got one meal a day

and such substandard meal it was. The house-help stayed on in such harsh conditions,

her motivation being that the politician madam had promised to get her employment in

the Civil service as a cleaner and she so desperate for job security among the rank of

the unskilled- waited on the promise and did her work so diligently until it became

apparent that the promise of the job was a ploy to keep her in bondage. Needless to say

it was not much longer that the prey escaped the predator.

My take on this whole issue is that the aged wisdom of “do unto others as you would

wish them to do unto you” is not understood by the rich man in Nigeria. It is nothing new.

It happened in the biblical account of Lazarus and the rich man, but remember, that the

rich man in that piece went to hell while Lazarus was heaven-bound. Alas! People just

are not given to deep thinking.

All those that are rich and those who aspire to great riches must stop to think. Where will

it get you if you gain the whole world and yet lose your soul. A wise woman, my

neighbour and friend Mrs Vynette Adesunloye once said to me- “I have never seen a U-

haul attached to a casket…ever!” Ponder on this if you will!



Men are from Mars, Women

are from Venus10

___________________________________________ (Special tribute to Mrs Gertrude Ebun Ololade Fawehinmi at 70, and to Motherhood)

Sometime ago, while in a pensive mood, I sat down and reflected on life in general: the

typical philosophical questions came up in my reverie. I tried to remember a time before

my birth, when perhaps I was still a “thought” in the Almighty’s mind. “Shall we send her

to earth?” The Almighty would have asked and if the answer is yes shall we make her a

female or a male? And then the final questions would have been into which country and

earthly family shall she be sent?

In a typical lawyer’s way of reasoning I wondered why I was not consulted at all in the

decisions to send me into the world in the first place and in sending me as a female,

after all “let all parties be heard” is a fundamental principle of fair hearing. But you do not

question the wisdom of the Godhead, you accept his decisions and walk on paths

predetermined for you to tread. But the perplexities of life made me go into deeper

musing. What I have had to question throughout my sojourn in this world is the seeming

futility in having to tread the path of a life so full of trials and tribulations, pain and

suffering interspersed with occasions of joy and success. A life filled with inconsistencies

and uncertainties, of troubles and struggles, of great expectations but often times giving

the least satisfaction. A life of perplexing complexity!

A child is born somewhere and the world rejoices, unknown to the world that child will

not make the world happy, someone must have rejoiced at the birth of Hitler after all.

Another child is born in the ghetto and the world is saddened because he is just another

hungry mouth to feed, yet the child grows up to make the world happy. Yet another child

is born into affluence, he is cosseted and loved and grows up to be a great person. But

another is born into a pauperised background and he retains his pauperised nature

throughout his life. Such are the many facets of life, but I digress, for the discourse here

10 Written circa September 1999 and published in the “This Day Newspaper of September17, 1999



is not on the futility of life’s struggles but about the wonderful specie that the Almighty

made and named “woman.”

In my musing, I reviewed womanhood and its counterpart; motherhood and I pondered

on the contradictions of the masculine specie’s perception of womanhood and his

reactions to her varied facets. Show me a man who does not revere his mother? And I

will show you a monster. In a survey conducted amongst a very few number of adults

around me on the issue; who they loved most among their parents, 100% of men chose

their mothers whilst 65% of females chose their mothers as well. Virtually all men spoke

so tenderly about their respective mothers. But the survey revealed that wives were not

so revered. I then pondered on this further:

Men love and revere their mothers, they adore their daughters and are so protective of

them and usually they love their sisters as well. The paradigm shifts when it comes to

wives. Wives are loved fervently before the marriage and then taken for granted after the

event. Then “wife” becomes beast of burden of matrimony, takes on uncountable roles in

the household; wife, mother, housekeeper (house-maid), manager, co – breadwinner

often and at times sole breadwinner, property maintenance manager, driver, nanny,

washwoman, cook, adviser, conciliator, whipping “boy”, extended family whipping “boy”,

“Woman Friday” and boxing sparring partner in an unfair bout. What I have often

wondered is this? Which facet of the female sex turns into a wife? Would the answer be

that wives are made out of men’s daughters, their sisters and that they are born by

men’s mothers. With the love men have for the other three, why are wives so over- used

and under - appreciated in our society.

Most women pass through the wife stage to become mothers and with motherhood

begins another episode in the life of the wonderful specie of human kind that the

Almighty made and named “woman”.

Joy heralds the birth of a child. The mother is tired after the childbirth but she is fulfilled.

Overwhelming love rises in her being as she sees and holds her baby to her bosom for

the first time. Unconditional love is born immediately. I have yet to see a mother who

really loathes her child. Bad or good, Mothers give unconditional love to their children.

But the Nigerian Father chooses whom he deigns to love amongst his children and more

often than not his love is conditional. A good child is the father’s whilst a bad one



naturally must be the mother’s, just ignore the very fact of his genes being very active in

the creation of that child. A child who excels in sports is suddenly a wonderful child;

forget that the father had pummelled him into pulp oftentimes for not attending to his

studies and for attempting to bring shame to his “glorious” name. Mothers also want their

children to excel, but they know that God in his infinite wisdom has given different

abilities to different children and they love so absolutely that they can find peace in the

fact that their children are happy in whatever job they engage in. A mother whose child is

convicted of a capital offence would still go on visiting him in incarceration and would still

care for him and seek to provide succour. She would have forgiven him and would do all

in her power to give him strength and dignity even in his affliction. The father would have

taken to his heels long before the conviction.

I do understand that I am seemingly stereotyping men and women. I know that there are

some men who truly love and have deep emotions and who express these emotions.

Such men express love to wives just as they do to their mothers, daughters and sisters

but I daresay that only a minuscule are on this side of the planet. Men with feelings are a

rarity in Nigeria.

Motherhood again and still more attendant hiccups, nursing a child from infancy to

toddler stage, then to young years and teenage and finally to maturity. But it does not

stop there, then the child marries and a mother becomes the loving grandmother and

takes on that role with gusto, invariably she ends up being nursemaid again to the

grandchildren. Most sons in Nigeria immediately their wives give birth to a bouncing

baby (I have often wondered why babies are said to bounce) rush home to bring

“momma” and once ensconced, “momma” takes on the role of nanny. Why would no one

stop to think about the life of toil women live? And when are they supposed to retire and

rest? Surely it should not be when they die.

Which finally brings me to the real rationale of my musings:

My mother is 70 years old today, Friday, the 17th of September 1999, and I have decided

that her toil ceases from now onwards. The Almighty has been merciful to spare her life

for this long. I will no longer be selfish and take her love and devotion for granted. I will

not rush to Ondo, in Ondo - State to bring her to Lagos every time my house- maid does

a disappearing act on me or when I am travelling out of the country. I will invite her to my



home at her convenience and pleasure and look after her like the Queen she is when

she is with me. I will strive from henceforth to bring her joy solely. I will not take my

troubles out on her.

Mummy has borne a lot for my siblings and I. She suffered injury in a car accident some

15 years ago that left her disabled in the arm. I remember Mummy’s fortitude throughout

a six or seven months’ stay in LUTH. I cannot remember her to have grumbled in self-

pity. I would have bemoaned my fate to all who cared to listen and those who did not as

well. Mummy had her disappointments in life but I never once heard her curse or regret

her life. She bore all with equanimity. Oh! The stress my siblings and I gave to the lovely

wonderful woman that my mother is; and the serenity of her composure at all times.

Mummy was resolute in her discipline. You were free to rant and rave and throw

tantrums but when all subsided, Mummy’s words were still there, to be fulfilled. She wore

us out with love so that in the long run you obeyed her. Who bought the goodies to take

to boarding house in those days? That was Mummy, Daddy’s duty was more to school

fees, Who made home -made jam and peanut butter and knitted all our cardigans so that

ours were always special? That was mummy and she is still doing it till the present. She

has just expanded her territory to include her grandchildren. Who makes home “home”?

That is Mummy. “Mummys” are made from wives and wives are made from daughters

and sisters who also are begotten of mothers and thus it goes on and on in this circle of

life.

Mummy, this tribute is to you today as well as to all Grandmothers, mothers, wives,

sisters and daughters. I read John Gray’s book “Men are from Mars, Women are from

Venus” and I agree with him totally. All women should consider this: Perhaps you have

been made at one time or the other to feel inadequate and insignificant, this is to tell you

that you are from Venus the Planet of love and beauty and that is why you have the

capacity to love. Yours is the better “self” and God loves you very much. Do not regret

ever having been sent to the world as a “mere” female. Men are from Mars the hard

Planet of war, the world is ruled by men and that is why it is such a hard world. Happy

Birthday Mum, and many more happy years to come.

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