Still on that Dog Matter by Reuben Abati

Last Friday, my phones rang again and again (thank God for dead phones gradually playing Lazarus), but what triggered that ring-ring was the article: "The Man Who Named His Dog Buhari" (August 26) in which I had indicated all the positive attributes of a dog and why a man naming his dog Buhari should not generate a community and legal trial or so much stress in the public space.  One caller kept me on the phone for close to two hours.

       He said he was proceeding right-away to buy a dog and name it Reuben Abati and that he would bring that dog to my neighbourhood, with the name inscribed on both sides of the dog and he would in my presence call out the dog: "Reuben Abati, come and eat, Reuben Abati, stop shouting, Reuben, stop being stupid, Reuben, you this idiotic dog!" and he'd like to see my reaction.  I laughed. He said it was not something to be amused about, because although I had argued that a dog is a man's best friend, and that in other societies, a dog is treated with respect and considered loyal and trustworthy, his view was that I failed to acknowledge the fact that in our culture, to attach the name of a man to an animal is definitely an insult. 

     His point was that Africans are not cut out for that kind of indulgence, and we have not yet, given our peculiar circumstances of development and culture, attained that stage where animals are given such reverence, or a time when Africans will build hotels for cats and dogs, have sex with dogs, adopt animals as biological children or talk about animal rights. He said in Nigeria, dogs are variously perceived as a taboo, as a dirty animal, as bush meat to quench hunger or as item for rituals. He said a lot of other things.

    "You were writing about a dog being so important in Western cultures. You should have told us what a dog is in our own culture and may be that will give you an idea of why Joe Chinakwe's action should not be treated so lightly?"

   He answered his own question.

"What you don't now is that a dog is a dirty animal in our culture. Even in the Bible, the dog is referred to as something dirty and vile, don't mind these Oyinbo people now turning a dog into something important.  And if you are wondering why Joe Chinakwe's neighbours want him dead, I need to tell you that in Islam, a dog is like a pig, a taboo.  Go and do your investigation, you are not likely to find Muslim families keeping dogs as pets. People use dogs for rituals in Yorubaland to appease Ogun, the god of iron and they eat it afterwards. In the South South, a dog is also a special delicacy for the family soup pot. And have you seen an Ondo man eyeing a dog, and salivating? Special meat. So, if a dog in America is a king, here it is a sacrificial lamb. Should anybody then give the suggestion around here that Buhari is a sacrificial lamb or an edible offering? What nonsense!"

    I kept quiet. I wanted him to exhaust his angst.

"The lesson of this whole thing is that people should avoid actions that can cause problems.  We are living in a delicate country where people are suspicious of one another. People should learn to watch what they do. That your Chinakwe knew what he was doing. He took a dog, labelled it Buhari on both sides and went to a place occupied mostly by Northerners, and Muslims, and he started parading the dog. Look, he could have been killed. And if he was killed, the next thing we would hear is that Fulani herdsmen have killed an Igbo man and his dog. Nobody will ask for the cause of the violence, or talk about what the Igbo man did. Why should an Igbo man act that way? It is obvious a good number of them don't like this government, and they have the right not to, but they should not disturb public peace, or try to frustrate this innocent man in Abuja."

      I gave a short speech about human rights and the freedom of choice, and the need to avoid ethnic labeling. He fired back, so loudly I had to move the phone a few inches away:     

    "Nobody is saying Igbos should support Buhari. But why is it that they are always the ones at the centre of every incident? When they live in your community, they want to take over. They will appoint an Eze Ndigbo, something they will not allow in the East for other ethnic groups, and they will disregard the local monarch. They have taken over a part of Lagos and claimed it as their own, but nobody else can claim any part of Igboland. Who introduced unitary government, but now Igbos are the ones saying they want Nigeria to be restructured. Every trouble in this country, there must be an Igbo hand in it. If that man and his dog had been slaughtered, the whole thing could have degenerated into an ethnic conflict."

       I made some statements about tolerance and why ethnic-labeling is unproductive. I argued that President Goodluck Jonathan was called a goat and that the goat had the name printed on it.  He didn't allow me to land.

"That was bad enough because a goat is regarded as a senseless animal among Igbos, they call it Mkpi. It wasn't a Northerner that called Jonathan a goat." 

    "They said worse things about him," I interjected.

"But no Northerner went to Jonathan's household or his community to abuse him to his face. We must talk about our culture not American or European culture. If Chinakwe had named his dog Buhari and kept it within his compound, there would have been no problem, but to carry a placard on the dog and begin to walk around with it, that is provocative. Do we write names on dogs in Nigeria? We don't. You can call your dog what you like, but don't behave in a manner that can cause problems."

     "But the police are being mischievous. They are doing eye service. They are chasing the wrong dog."

"No", he retorted. "It is their job to enforce law and order and to protect life and property. Your friend's action posed a threat to what the police stand for. What was he trying to achieve? He deserves to be jailed"

"Because he is Igbo?"

"Because he did something stupid."    

"He says he named the dog Buhari because he loves President Muhammadu Buhari"

"He is lying.  He should know that no Muslim will feel honoured being called a dog.  And why is he mentioning the President's name? A man who says his father is Alhaji Buhari, and he is aggrieved, took him to the police station. It has nothing to do with the President. He should be lucky he is alive. And being Igbo, he also knows that when you call a man Nkita in Igboland, he could take your head off in anger."

"I stand with him. We are in a democracy. He has the right to call his dog any name he chooses."

"Yes. But he cannot use the same name to provoke people. He is not being charged for naming a dog, he is being charged for inciting hate and behaving in a manner that could breach the public peace. If he loves President Buhari as he says, why doesn't he name a child of his after the President? That is how we honour people we admire in African culture.  In your article, you were quoting white people, dead and alive, I am quoting my grandmother in the village whose wisdom is more relevant."

  "I still don't get your point.  And I think we are spending too much energy on this naming of a dog and its parade."

"We should because small things matter a lot, and small things can destroy a country. People should know their environment and behave properly. I want to see that man punished."

"I don't want him to be punished. We should aspire to make this country an open and free society."

"Of course, it is people like you who defend gay rights, abortion and prostitution. One man has  just been arrested, again in Ogun State, for stealing 18 tubers of yam (valued at N10, 000) and a bunch of vegetables (worth N50) I won't be surprised if you argue that he is exercising his right to be free from hunger. Or you may even say- that is stealing and not corruption."

"I will argue that it is a sign of the times, in the same manner in which the widespread theft of pots of soup in local compounds is a sign of the times, and in fact in the same manner in which Chinakwe's naming of his dog is a poignant political statement. When the people are hungry, angry, helpless and afraid, they will resort to codes, actions, symbols and metaphors to reflect their sorry condition and frustration. For your information, the man who stole yam and vegetables is insisting that he is not guilty! He is 30 years old and he has been remanded in prison custody."

"Good for him. We are waging a war against indiscipline and corruption." 

    Long after the conversation with this fellow, who by the way is a government official in Abuja, I came to the same conclusion that Nigeria is at a tethering edge. We are not yet a nation. We are divided by ethnicity, culture, and religion and the walls of division are so strong, only a little push could pull down those walls.  This situation places us far away from the currents of democratic leadership and limits our ability to balance primordial culture with new realities and the people's aspirations. We are at a crossroads of belief, unbelief and faithlessness.

     I had thought or read that it was Joe Chinakwe (whose name keeps changing curiously in various reports - Joe, Joseph, Joachim, Iroko- but no matter, he is at best a working metaphor) who had put dog Buhari to death, but it turns out that the dog was actually killed by aggrieved Northerners in Chinakwe's community. Chinakwe's dog is yet another Nigerian metaphor: a metaphor of extant fault-lines. That Igbo dog-owner must watch his back. If he gets roughly handled like his dog, the same policemen who have been so busy trying to punish him are likely to do nothing since in their view, he brought it all upon himself.

Reuben Abati

The man who named his dog, Buhari by Reuben Abati

The one absolutely unselfish friend that a man can have in this selfish world, the one that never deserts him and the one that never proves ungrateful or treacherous is his dog – George Graham Vest (1870)

Joe Fortemose Chinakwe, the man who named his dog after President Muhammadu Buhari is right now probably regretting his decision to honour his dog with the name of a man he considers his hero. He has been accused of trying to incite hate and breach the public peace. He has been arrested and re-arrested by the police and taken to a magistrate court, which promptly remanded him in prison until he is able to meet the conditions of his bail. He has spent days in prison custody unable to raise the N50, 000 that he has been asked to pay. His family members have only so far managed to raise N20, 000.  Even if he succeeds in putting that sum together, his life is still in danger because aggrieved persons in his neighbourhood, including a man who says he was trying to ridicule his father, have threatened to kill him, if he shows up. The police are not investigating this threat, but they seem so excited about dealing with the poor trader called Joe, for having the effrontery to name his dog, Buhari.

    To protect himself, Joseph has allegedly put the dog to sleep, or thrown it away or whatever, in the hope that once the evidence is destroyed there will be no case against him.  It is all so pitiable. Public opinion appears to be divided as to the nature and seriousness of Joseph Chinakwe's alleged felony, with some people arguing that it is definitely an act of provocation and incitement for him to label his dog, Buhari so boldly and to parade the same dog in a neighbourhood where there are many residents of Northern extraction, whose feelings may be injured or who may perceive that he is trying to make a political statement.

     Those who want him punished have therefore dismissed Chinakwe's protestation that he is an admirer of the President, or that he means well. His defenders insist that he is entitled to free speech and there is nowhere in the statutes where a man can be punished on the basis of the perception that some people's feelings may be injured, and hence, be prompted to commit murder. The law is not structured that way.

    We are dealing, therefore with ethnic hate at the lunatic fringe. Nigerians have become so suspicious of one another, and inter-ethnic relationship is so poisonous that even the littlest innocent gesture could result in mayhem. This is why many have been killed for allegedly committing blasphemy or for insulting the religious sensibilities of some people. Remember the woman who was killed by her students for allegedly desecrating the Quoran. Remember Gideon Akaluka. Remember the woman who was recently beheaded in Abuja for daring to preach the Christian gospel. We are also dealing with disregard for human freedom, and Nigeria's slip into a tragic season of intolerance. Why shouldn't Chinakwe call his dog whatever name catches his fancy?  Well, may be he should have chosen an Igbo name? But if we want national unity, why shouldn't he take a name he admires from another part of the country? 

      Ali Baba, the ace comedian, like many others, has come out strongly in defence of Chinakwe saying he actually has a dog in his house named OBJ, and that is quite direct because only one man bears that sobriquet in this country, and neither OBJ nor his kinsmen have asked Atuyota to leave Yorubaland. One of the most famous pictures online is that of a goat named Goodluck Jonathan, with the name written on both flanks of it.  President Jonathan's wife was also once (July 2013) referred to as "shepopotamus" by Nobel Laureate Wole Soyinka, and before our very eyes, President Olusegun Obasanjo, donated, to a conservation sanctuary, a chimpanzee, which he named Patience to make a point obviously.

      The parody at the time was unmistakable. We all drew humour from all of that. What we seem to be dealing with right now, however, is the absurd deification of a name on ethnic and partisan grounds. It is curious that the Nigeria Police is devoting to the trial of Chinakwe, a feverish amount of energy that we have not witnessed with regard to more statutorily relevant offences. This hullaballoo over the giving of a dog a name that has led to its hanging and the likely punishment of its owner is one distraction too many. We are above all else, dealing with a storm in a tea cup, occasioned by a culture shock, and our underdeveloped understanding of the relationship between man and animals.

      Chinakwe says he chose the name Buhari out of admiration. And he may well be right, and he would have been right, and there would have been no problem if he was living in Europe or North America. But he lives in a country where animals have no rights and no recognition other than as victims of human predators, and a dog in our culture is to be treated as an instrument or as meat for the soup pot. Elsewhere, a dog has earned its reputation in mythology and actuality, as a man's best friend. The root of this is that a dog is considered the most beloved, the most loyal and the most dependable of all animals. People use dogs to guard their homes, to keep away intruders, even to play with children and as companions in the home. There are many stories and legends about the loyalty of dogs. Hawkeye is the name of a famous dog who lay next to the casket of its owner who died in active service as a US Navy SEAL.

     There is a film, "Hachi, a dog's tale," starring Richard Gere, about Hachiko, a dog who greeted his owner at the train station everyday and after the owner died, the dog went to the same station for nine years. Recently, I posted on instagram the picture of a dog in Santa Catarina, Brazil, Negao the dog, whose owner died eight months earlier and the dog remained outside the hospital awaiting his owner's return.  In the United States, a police dog has been given a state burial, draped with national colours in appreciation of its loyal and meritorious service to the nation. Many centuries ago, Homer wrote in Odyssey, about a loyal dog, Argos who waited for Odysseus until he returned. 

       The established normal is that a dog can be trusted more than a human being.  And this is why in other parts of the world, when people name their dogs after celebrities, they are actually paying compliments and showing respect.  World figures like Elvis Presley, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Louis Vuitton, Mandela, Clinton, J. F. Kennedy and others have had their names given to either cats or dogs, and it is no big deal. Admirers transpose their feelings from man to animal. Joseph Chinakwe may actually be saying that President Buhari is a loyal, trustworthy, supportive, dependable and companionable Guardian of the Nigerian estate. It would have been a different thing perhaps if he had given that name to a tortoise, a rat, cat, a fox, or a chimpanzee. But in a country where every animal is considered a prey or a lower, spiteful creature, using the metaphor of a dog could be risky as the Chinakwe case has shown. In Nigeria, we treat animals badly, and we don't consider anyone a friend, man or animal. We are vengeful, mean and suspicious. We are so scared we are even afraid of domestic and domesticated animals.  

      In other societies, animals are treated with greater respect and in the United States for example, the life of a dog is far superior to that of a human being in Nigeria.  I have written about this twice: In "A Dog's Life" (1996), I reflected on the life of a dog owned by Stanley Meisler (God bless his soul) and his wife, Elizabeth Fox, my hosts during my journalism programme at the University of Maryland, College Park, United States (1996 -97). I was shocked that the dog had a room of its own, a proper room, not a kernel, and whenever that dog fell ill, we took him to a dog hospital and Stanley bought drugs.  I saw that dog living the life of a king, better catered for than many Africans.

      I wrote another piece titled "A Hotel for Dogs" (July 23, 2006) about a five-star hotel in Bethesda, Washington, which attends to dogs as customers, and where dogs enjoy a life of luxury. Established in 2003, by PetSmart Inc., by 2006, there were 32 hotels of its type in the United States and the then spokesman of the group, Bruce Richardson, had boasted that by 2010, the plan was to have 240 such hotels across the United States. We are talking luxury, 23 USD per night, 33USD for a dog suite, as at that time, all pre-tax, plus provisions for pooch ice cream.  In general, Americans spend about $40 billion dollars a year on household pets. I guess that is more than Nigeria's annual budget even by today's relative standards.

    And so, what are we talking about? An American dog is a big man in Nigeria by all standards. But because we eat dogs and treat all animals badly in this country, in fact we have no regard for human beings (consider the hundreds that get killed, raped, kidnapped daily and nobody cares), we are bound to be incensed that anyone would name a dog after a deified political figure.  Joe Chinakwe's sins should be forgiven, albeit there is no morality in law, but the Nigerian judiciary should not expose itself to further ridicule by lending the weight of the law to such partisan trash that makes no sense. There are far more important issues requiring serious attention in this country today. 

     But in case nobody understands that and Mr Chinakwe and his counsel find themselves in a tight corner, they should put out a disclaimer and say their dog, living or dead, is filing for a change of name. That is perfectly within their rights to do. And should they find themselves in any other difficult situation, they have my full permission to rename the dog, Reuben Abati. But should you, dear reader consider this a bad name you wish to hang, you also have my full support, partnership and friendship to offer your own name.

       If that will put an end to this circus over the name of a dog, and set Joseph Chinakwe free, and also remind us that we are in a democracy, please, help and so be it. By the way, I hear Chinakwe and his sympathisers finally managed, after a fund-raising appeal, to raise a sum of N90, 000 to perfect his bail bond and that he is now out of detention. Would somebody in a responsible position just put an end to this joke and let us focus on serious issues? 

Reuben Abati

Paying tribute to O. J. Abuah by Reuben Abati

Life is all about memories. It is the only thing we are left with when flesh and spirit depart the earthly plane, and we can do no more than remember the life of the departed, through memories of times and moments shared, and their deeds in their lifetime. I received a phone call and a whatsapp message announcing the death of Justin Abuah, popularly known to all and sundry as O.J. Abuah, and the world seemed as if it had stood still for a few minutes.  He was one of my media officers when I served as President Goodluck Jonathan's Special Adviser, Media and Publicity and as official spokesperson; after the retirement of another dependable officer, Musa Aduwak, he replaced Aduwak as Director of Information in the department. I left him behind in the Villa in 2015, hale and hearty, an asset to the department, an efficient, service-oriented, disciplined, and devoted civil servant who could be relied upon at all times for high quality delivery.  And now they say he is gone. Last Sunday. Just like that. It is painful, shocking and sad. OJ, what happened?

       I had some difficulty initially adjusting to the ways and habits of civil servants when I got to the Villa in 2011. I found them too laid back, too conspiratorial, and always on the look out for reward, or what they call motivation. But what I found most exasperating was the lack of initiative. Coming from the private sector, I was used to members of a team doing their part and not waiting to be directed, knowing that any delay could affect the rest of the team and the quality of service delivery.  But I met a situation whereby civil servants believed they always had to be directed to carry out even the same routine tasks that they undertook daily. 

 "SA, you didn't give me any instruction"

"How? You and I discussed this matter and you know what to do, you do it everyday."

"You didn't tell me to go ahead"

     I always felt like hitting the roof. I didn't see any reason why a media assistant had to be reminded to take a podium to a presidential event, microphones, batteries, or why a photographer or cameraman needed to be reminded of pre-announced events, or why an  information officer could not use the initiative to prepare drafts. I used to get worked up and I would scream: "civil servants, what is wrong with you people!" I was perhaps prejudiced. I had been warned as soon as I assumed office that I should not make use of the civil servants. I was advised to sideline them and bring a team of my own who would get things done. I didn't think this was right. If there is a full-fledged department in place, with paid staff, assigned different tasks, and who have been in the system forever, the best thing to do is to get them to do their work and not undermine them.  It may have taken a few months to establish a rhythm, but I eventually won the confidence of the departmental team to create a very resourceful and creative communications and media team that ensured efficient coverage of the President's activities. OJ Abuah as Director of Information and as the most senior staff, as well his predecessor, Aduwak, were most effective in helping to achieve this objective.

        OJ became the bridge between the general staff and me. I eventually figured out that apart from their love of directives, civil servants worship hierarchy. They have this inherited military era mentality that pushes them to function when they are given express orders. It was better if the order was documented, and OJ had his ways of pushing them.  This took a lot of pressure off my shoulders, up to the point that at a time, whenever I shouted "civil servants!", the staff around would also say "SA!" or "The great Abati" and we would all burst out laughing. We had great fun in the long run.  The civil servants were all individually and collectively my backbone.

       It was just a matter of discovering their talents and getting them to work: there was a lady for example who was so excellent in protocol matters who later left us, there was another who always got things done particularly during foreign trips because once she showed up, all the men around could never say No to her, we later recruited a multilingual chap who was also so good in protocol matters that the protocol department used to report him to me to keep him away from their territory, and of course the diligent quartet who monitored the print, electronic and digital media and prepared daily reports and analyses, and the army of other staff, the foot-soldiers - from secretary to drivers and boom operators- who covered every event. I want to thank OJ for his friendship and support and also for his readiness to take responsibility on behalf of the other staff whenever anything went wrong or when other departments blamed the media department for a microphone that did not work, a podium that stood in the way or photographers and cameramen blocking people's views.

         OJ had my back. He had been in the Presidency since Dodan Barracks.  He had served under different Presidents and Media Advisers. This placed him in a vantage position to avail me of institutional memory.  He could tell me what previous advisers did under certain circumstances, and the expectations of those who occupy the office of President. He also knew the intrigues within the palace, and the scent of inter-departmental rivalry. Because he had been in the system for long, nothing escaped his notice and if anything was going on, somehow he would get to know. He always tipped me off.  He drew my attention to intrigues even before they blew into the open. Let no one joke about it: the Nigerian Presidency is a nest of malevolent intrigues. And running the media and publicity department could be very much like being in a wrestling ring, because it is one job that everyone claims to know.  

      People whose responsibility it wasn't wanted to arrange media interviews, manage the President's appearance, organize his public speaking, take his photographs, record his speeches, and determine how speeches and press statements should sound. Someone even came up with what became known as "the space theory", meaning anybody could do anybody's job, once they could create a space to do it.  It got so challenging at a point, and on one occasion, a cleaner accosted me early morning and told me: "Oga Abati, you are working hard, I see you for television, I no know say you sabi speak English like that. Make you dey talk more hen. But dis your staff and journalists…" I didn't know what to say in response.  But in the face of it all, OJ helped to protect the integrity of the department.  He was loyal and dutiful.

        He not only knew the system, he drew my attention to many rules and regulations. If something could not be done, he would bring out the rules book and state the position of government. In the end, I left the matters related to civil service rules and regulations to the civil servants and stayed with professional and technocratic aspects of the work.  Every outsider who finds himself in a political position in government needs a man like OJ. He was nobody's sycophant. He would tell you as it is. He had a critical mind, but he was nevertheless fair-minded and constructive, and there was no reason to doubt his loyalty to government and country.

         He was above everything else, intellectually gifted.  He had been a journalist before joining the State House media department, and he remained a damn good reporter and editor. He had a nose for news and a sense of what can work or not in a media copy. He wrote well too, his prose was spare but precise, his sentences were clean, his thoughts were clear. OJ could discuss literature, politics, history, geography, economics and a wide range of other subjects. We spent hours in my office whenever our schedule was light, debating issues in a friendly atmosphere. In the course of duty, I also met many knowledgeable and experienced civil servants, men and women who toil daily to keep the Nigerian system going, but who are often unheard and ignored. OJ was one of the most impressive. He was an ideal information officer, talented and experienced, mature and disciplined, knowledgeable and smart. It was not surprising that he passed his promotion examination in 2014 and became a Director.  I consider his death a major loss to the department and the Nigerian civil service.

      Gifted as he was, he was nevertheless a very quiet and impeccably gracious man, to be found moving quietly close to the wall, as if he did not want to be noticed in his regular, stylishly spacious batik caftan.  Even if he was angry, you would hardly hear his voice.  He was self-effacing almost to a fault, and he was intensely private. It was always difficult to reach him after office hours or on weekends, but whenever he was around or available, he got the job done beyond the call of duty and earned everyone's respect.  He never talked about his family – the closest I got was when we went to a bookshop in New York once and he bought books for his son whom he said was studying in the UK. He did not invite anyone to his house.  Nobody knew which church he attended or whether or not he had ceremonies to which he invited guests. Some of the staff even thought he was queer. If he was in pains, he never showed it. If he was ill, nobody knew. He was just himself. People like him are difficult to replace. He was the type of man who would never have asked for a tribute, but he deserves this and more tributes to come. So sad, he is gone…

The Parable of the Husband's Cane by Reuben Abati

One other outcome of our democratic experience since 1999 is how demanding and insatiable the Nigerian voter has become, and because political office holders and the professional political class are yet to fully decipher and understand the implications of this, they continue to make similar mistakes and draw the same responses from the same public that voted them into power.     
       I have no better illustration of this than the manner in which the critics of the incumbent administration at the centre are beginning to sound exactly the same way they sounded about two years ago under the Jonathan administration. Check the social media, some newspapers, and listen to the conversation on the streets. The personnel in power have changed, there is a new party in charge at the top, but public conversation has gone back to its old ways. Questions are being asked about the meaning of change and the dividends it has brought to the people.

      Some commentators are openly apologizing for voting President Goodluck Jonathan and the People's Democratic Party (PDP) out of power.  Some fierce supporters of change and the All Progressives Congress (APC) are openly voicing their regrets. And as was the case under President Jonathan, there are hilarious skits online, mixing song, drama and dance, making fun of the new dispensation and its architects. More than one pro-change and anti-PDP newspapers have had cause to do scathing editorials, including the very newspaper that was the anchor-point for change in 2015.

       Many of the affirmations are relatively the same: the President is a good man but he is surrounded by incompetent people who have their own agenda, so they say, or that the Ministers are not doing their job and right now, there is a loud protest against the ability of one Minister to manage something as simple as taking a sports delegation to the Olympics. The number of people calling for the man's job is growing. Oftentimes, it is also said that communication is the problem.

       I used to hear that a lot. And it was always as follows: The President's team is not communicating his policies properly and in one year, while a lot has been achieved, nobody is show-casing those achievements (!), as if communication is a bullet. But these are the same stories that we used to hear. All kinds of experts are all over the airwaves voicing opinions about how best to run Nigeria, and promises that have not been fulfilled and an economy that is causing raw pain.  Not even the President's wife has been spared: her wrist-watch, her handbag, and even her grammar (!) - this formed the substance of a pedantic attack by a self-confessed Buharideen. It really looks as if there is now a formula for criticizing the Nigerian government.

      Every excuse that is given by government is met with the riposte that the government is burning its goodwill with the people, or that someone should just help and change the narrative.  Jonathan-bashing is fast becoming unfashionable, the critical mass including those who marched for change are asking for new tunes.  And I am far from gloating. But certainly, this love-them-today-despise-them-tomorrow did not start with the Buhari government. I am actually trying to make what I hope will be considered an essential point about the burden that Nigerian politicians have to bear. In a number of public interviews and interactions recently, I have argued that it is not easy to rule Nigeria or any part of it.  

       When President Olusegun Obasanjo assumed office in 1999, he was the messiah who helped to stabilize the country after many years of abuse by military dictators, and in terms of policies, persona, focus and drive, he rescued the country. But the moment he picked up fights with his Vice President, and later got embroiled in the politics of third term self-succession, his support base began to grow apart, and he became the target of vitriolic criticism from even his most ardent supporters and benefactors. 

      We dismissed President Umaru Yar'Adua who succeeded him very quickly as "Baba Go Slow" even if his failings were excused on the grounds of ill-health and the shenanigans of an Aso Rock cabal. President Goodluck Jonathan's ascendancy in 2010 was driven by the activism of the civil society and both genuine and bathroom constitutional experts who insisted that the Constitutional rule on succession in the event of the death of the incumbent must be respected. Thus, he became Acting President and he later won an election, on his own steam in 2011, to become President of Nigeria. For many Nigerians, his coming to power helped to make one point: that Aso Villa is not the birthright of any ethnic group, that the rule of law is superior to the rule of men, and that the final decision about who rules this country at any particular period rests with the people.  It didn't take long before the same people began to attack the Jonathan Presidency, goaded on by a vicious opposition at first, until the people themselves took ownership of the rebellion against their own revolution.

      In 2015, they supported President Muhammadu Buhari, whom they had voted against in three previous elections. Somehow, there has been a touch of melodrama to the Nigerian Presidency since 1999, and it was on that score that President Buhari became the stone that was once rejected emerging as the cornerstone of the building. In the North, his political base, and the South West, which embraced him, he became the messiah that Nigeria needed. Only the South East and the South South looked away.  But today, ironically, both the North and the West have become the home of President Buhari's most loquacious critics. Were many not held back by self-censorship and fear of reprisal, by now, the sound of condemnation would be deafening. I have described the scenario long enough, what are the specific takeaways?

       One, the same point I mentioned earlier, that indeed, it is not easy to rule Nigeria. It does not matter how well-meaning and principled you may be, there would be people who would put you under enormous pressure and in trying to please one group and not the other, you would end up creating a basis for criticism and attacks. These pressures come from ethnic groups, family members, old school mates, close friends, party members, political godfathers, old benefactors, the wife's family, or wives, in-laws, the business community, international agents, investors, existing and prospective: they all want your ears, they want access and they will mount the pressure in every way possible. Pleasing every constituency is not possible.

      No matter how hard you try to balance the pressures, you'd still be left with people and constituencies perpetually banging on the door, and they just don't do that, they run down others who are competing for your time and attention, and before long, as President of Nigeria, you could be held hostage by one or two groups, and when that happens, you displease others who in due course, become critics. Everybody is with you because of what they can get: they are investors not supporters, not even family members. The loneliest job in the world is to be President of a developing and dispossessed country like Nigeria. It presents a great opportunity to make a difference and make history, but it also comes with too many IOUs that may never be satisfactorily repaid.

        Two, be careful how you demonize the opposition. If you are in power seeking to retain it, be careful how you wield the axe against the power-seekers at the gate. If they seize that axe from you, they could behead you without mercy. Your pleas when you are at their mercy later, could fall on deaf ears. And if you are seeking power and you get it, with the people hailing you, beware, the same people could turn against you tomorrow. Their loyalty is not guaranteed for too long, at most it comes with a one-year warranty! And never ever forget this folk wisdom: the husband's cane that was used to beat the senior wife is right there on the rafters, to be recalled for the junior wife. No domestic violence intended (far from it) but if it sounds like a metaphor, well, you figure it out.

        Three, don't you ever over-promise. There is a tendency for power-seekers in Nigeria to promise heaven and earth. They design fanciful phrases, programmes, agenda, blueprints and road maps in which they assure the people, together with timelines, how they will turn Somalia into paradise within 100 days and if not, six months, but at most, one year. These are usually from persons who have no idea how Nigeria works. They know nothing either about the complexities of governance and power politics. They make the fanciful promises, anchored on an even more fanciful phrase, and as soon as the election is won, they return to their consulting firms with their bags of profit, in search of the next client and victim. It is amazing how in Nigeria, most of the leading experts on government and governance are persons who have never spent a day in a government department and have never managed anything complex in their lives.

       They arrive in a dollar-driven parachute in the middle of the campaign and they invent slogan after slogan, and strategies that leave potential disaster behind. Let's say their candidate wins, but as soon as he gets into office, he has to deal with the many lies that have been told in his name, and he finds himself at the crossroads. If he says all promises cancelled, let's be realistic, he is accused of deceit. If he says anything else, he is reminded that in the United States, where the heart of many Nigerians is, including the intelligentsia, he is told that promises have to be kept. The same people have forgotten that in the United States, politicians talk more about people-focussed policies, and not about such elementary details as the provision of boreholes, food, electricity, and roads. In a developing country, you better watch what you promise.

       Four: don't rely on your political party. The same political party that brought you to power can disappoint you.  Incidentally, we are not running a parliamentary system of government.  Your own party members have Macbeth-like ambitions and that makes them disloyal. They don't quite want you to succeed except if that will make them look like potential successors. Your constituency is the Nigerian people. Difficult as they are to please, and habitually angry as many of them are, it always pays in the long run to listen to them. And when you don't feel like listening, provide leadership that inspires trust, and you won't fail.

Reuben Abati

Tales from Rio by Reuben Abati

In some other countries of the world, a bronze medal at the Olympics is not something to be talked about or celebrated. Not even silver is satisfactory sometimes, just remember that look on Russian athlete Yulia Efimova's face as her arch-rival, Lilly King of the United States took the gold in 100m women's breastroke swimming. Nothing but gold is good enough – afterall, the Olympics is the biggest showcase of human talent on the planet and a demonstration of man's capacity to express himself or herself to the limits and excel. In the US for example, there is an obsession with gold at the Olympics, this being an extension of the average America's patriotism-driven belief that the United States is the centre of the universe. The US has the largest number of gold medals in Olympics history.

      "Go for Gold" is the classic Olympics slogan, but we have also seen in the on-going Rio Olympics, episodes after episodes and tales of human ingenuity in addition to memorable events: so much hardwork and dedication - Michael Phelps winning three gold medals and still counting, so far bringing his total Olympic gold medals to a record 21, Uzbekistan's 41-year old Oksana Chusovitina participating in her seventh Olympics as the oldest gymnast on parade, and making it to the finals, 19-year old American Simon Biles putting pure genius on display in the gymnastics, team refugees participating for the first time in the Olympics,  Kosovo winning its first Olympic medal (gold!), a marriage proposal on the field showing love is more important than gold, well, an Egyptian, Sara Ahmed won a trail-blazing historic bronze in weightlifting, the mighty falling – Novak Djokovic, Serena Williams and Venus Williams crashing out of tennis, Chris Froome coming up short in cycling, and on the side lines,  BBC female presenter, Rebecca Adlington reaching out under the table to squeeze Mark Foster's thigh,  and on the minus side, the organisers getting China's flag wrong, mixing up national anthems including Nigeria's, complaints about living conditions at the Rio Olympics village, and on the streets, a marvelous opening ceremony, and a generous display of Brazilian female nudity, and on the dark side: young Brazilian hoodlums, robbing visitors of valuables with such unpatriotic brazenness. It is less than a week, so far, but the tales are of characteristically intriguing and historic dimensions.

     But again, we must not forget this: the Olympics is about the victory, and about national glory and pride. To win the gold, a country must be prepared, and its athletes must be prepared to show the excellence, the resilience and the courage that is the hallmark of the event. When the issue is not about gold however, it is about, on the humanistic side, the kind of courage in the face of adversity demonstrated by British athlete Derek Redmond at the 1992 Barcelona Games, when he tore his hamstring and simply refused to give up, reaching the finish line of the semi-finals, hanging on his father's shoulder. The Olympics since the first modern one in 1896, has been about the human being and the many possibilities of human aspiration in the face of challenge.

    Nigeria has participated in the Olympics (the Summer Olympics) 15 times, 1952 -2016. And over that period, this country of over 180 million people, has been able to win 3 gold medals (Chioma Ajunwa, 1996, Dream Team 1996 Atlanta Olympics, Men's 4 x 400 metre relay team, 2000 Sydney Olympics), 8 silver, and 12 bronze medals, making a total of 23 Olympic medals. No cause for despair. After all, we are better than some 73 countries, which have never won a single Olympic medal, countries like Somalia, Chad, Swaziland, Oman, Palau, Benin, Belize, Cape Verde, American Samoa, Equitorial Guinea, Central African Republic, Congo, Malawi, Mali, Palestine, Nauru, Lesotho and Oman.  My take however is that we could have done much better, if this had been a different country, if successive governments had paid more attention to sports as a tool for international glory and achievement.

      Our poor record is the cumulative effect of the failure of the Nigeria Olympics Committee, the lack of political will in government at all levels to promote individual talent in sports on a sustainable basis, and the Nigerian disease: last-minute syndrome which means everything is done at the last minute, things that other countries spend years and resources preparing for, we wade in at the last minute and expect that miracles would happen. Major breakthroughs in sports in Nigeria as in everything have been either through miracles or individual sacrifice. Our sports community, active and retired, is made up therefore of angry and frustrated men and women who feel that they have been used and forgotten by their country, the serving ones are so poorly treated they even sometimes wonder why they are still wearing Nigeria's caps. At the Rio 2016 Olympics, there is a Lawrence Okolie and a Christine Ohuruogu on Team Great Britain and yet another Nigerian running up and down for Italy. Nigeria has got talent. Point.

      But we do not know how to use, nurture or encourage those talents. There are probably thousands of Michael Phelps in the Niger Delta who can swim from creek to creek, Olympic style, but who are busy carrying guns and looking for cheap wealth; if you go to the Mid-West, there are probably hundreds of girls who can swim better than Lilly King, Yulia Efimova and Katinka Hosszu put together, but all that talent is probably being wasted in a thigh-raising whorehouse in Benin or a city in Italy, because the Ogbe stadium is ruined and nobody has bothered about discovering the natural flying fishes in that part of the country. When I see the Olympic gymnasts doing their thing, I think of the many talented young girls in Nigeria, who due to lack of opportunities are busy putting their lithe, capable sporty bodies to other uses. Developing the sports sector does not require too much imagination: you just need to start, catch them young, groom them, give them opportunity. That is why a 16-year old from Chile can stand out in archery, and a 19-year old teenager from America, Simone Biles, can be an embodiment of human perfection.  We have the people, the potentials but…

     We are most certainly not prepared for big events that require state planning. It is particularly ironic that we have done much better as a country in the Paralympics – 22 Gold, 11 Silver, 12 Bronze since 1992.  You can interpret that literally, I don't want to spell it out and offend the valiant men and women who have done us proud in that alternative Olympics. What is painful is that Segun Toriola, seven times Nigerian Olympian had warned us quite early that the preparation for this year's Olympics is the "worst Team Nigeria in Olympics history." Underline the word, "worst", and it looks like he is right.  Before the Olympics, we heard the embarrassing story that Nigerian athletes going to the Olympics- 78 of them, 49 male, 29 female, participating in eight events (we seem trapped here!) had been asked to go and fund themselves, cap in hand. To worsen matters, the Sports Minister, the Sports Ministry and just about anyone who needed to use their brains, started sounding like Emperors.

      The Nigerian soccer team, called Dream Team VI was stranded in Atlanta, Georgia, USA, and the Minister's informed response was "who send them there?" The teams trip to Brazil was postponed from Friday to Monday, to Tuesday and to Wednesday, no money, no support. The Dream Team eventually arrived in Brazil on the wings of charity: Delta Airlines had to airlift them free. They arrived a few hours to their opening match, jet-lagged, without allowances, hungry, and with a coach, Samson Siasia, who had also not been paid for five months, and yet the boys went ahead, to beat Japan, 5-4. That is the spirit of the Olympics. Dream Team VI, (we really like to dream!) has since qualified for the quarter-finals, and they may well surprise the world. No one expects that they would, maybe the Nigerian government (which likes to reap where it has not sown), but whatever happens, those boys and their coach are heroes already, and should they manage to win any medal, that medal should be presented to Delta Airlines, not Nigeria, and when that is happening, Solomon Dalung must not be anywhere near the room. Well, they say he has apologized, but must we run Nigeria's international appearances on the basis of apology?   

    That is what we are doing. Better-focused countries are celebrating gold medals, we are here celebrating courage in the face of adversity: the biggest story we would probably take out of the Rio Olympics. Besides the Dream Team VI, I have seen very enthusiastic comments about how Segun Toriola is a seventh time Olympian in table tennis, and how Nigeria has produced the first African to qualify for the Quarter Finals in table tennis in the person of Aruna Quadri, and the first Nigerian rower, Chierika Ukogu.  Ms Ukogu had to sponsor herself to the Rio Olympics. She had to beg for funds, and travelled on the wings of charity too. She qualified for the quarter finals and got Semi-finals C/D ranking and we are now all so proud of her, but deep in her heart, she would know that the country she promoted so much at the Rio Olympics, does not really care for her. And that is sad. There was also the Nigerian basketball team. They put up a valiant fight for love of country, but I doubt if any one of them is home-made. When will Nigeria begin to make its own athletes and geniuses, and not leave its responsibility to pure chance and accidents?

   I salute the courage of all the badly treated and frustrated 78 Nigerian athletes currently fighting for our country at the Rio Olympics. They are patriots and they are all deserving of our appreciation for their faith in Nigeria despite the odds, representing Nigeria, in badly sewn track-suits. They may not win any medal- we understand! We would still be proud of them. It is their type that reminds us that indeed, there is still a country and for that alone, we must be grateful.

Reuben Abati

Endorsing Hillary Clinton by Reuben Abati

If there was any hope that Donald Trump would change tactics and be more restrained after winning the Republican party Presidential nomination for the November 8 US election, that hope is now lost.  The fellow has remained aggressive, incorrigibly brash and completely negative. Washington Post columnist Eugene Robinson has asked: "Is Donald Trump just plain crazy?"  (August 1).  Robinson says he is "increasingly convinced," and that Trump's "grasp on reality appears to be tenuous at best."

       The way he is carrying on, indeed Trump may need a mental fitness test soon. By now, it must be clear to all and sundry, that he poses a great risk to the United States, to democracy and the liberal world. President Barack Obama has dismissed him as being unfit to be President, he being so totally unprepared, he being no more than a bumbling apprentice seeking the highest job in the United States. A man given to melodrama and expletives such as Trump, without any respect for basic decorum and standards would make a very bad President.  He must be prevented from doing damage to the free world.

      I am however, surprised that there are Nigerians who insist that he is a better choice. I don't think so. And don't ask me why Nigerians should be so divided over another country's election. The truth is that America's Presidential election is a world election. There are millions of Nigerians and Africans living in the United States and even greater numbers hoping to visit, study or live in the United States.  What happens in America affects the rest of the world.  If a Trump Presidency happens, we are all in trouble.