My dearly beloved country. A country like no other. My mother’s country. My father’s country. My country. My children’s country. My unborn grandchildren’s country. My unborn great, great, great grandchildren ad infinitum.
It is for you I write this piece. It is for you I sing this song. You who would be 50 next year—by the grace of God. You who has been there long, long before all of us, yet they say you are just 50. Fifty years of independence. Fifty years of freedom from colonial rule. Fifty years of enslavement of ourselves.
Fifty years of struggling to get it right but not getting it right. Fifty years of prodigality, of sons and daughters who have squandered their fatherland’s wealth leaving nothing of substance to the new generation. Fifty years of a people whose fathers have eaten sour grapes and the children’s teeth are set on edge.
Nigeria, my fatherland. Land of liberty, yet land of insecurity where people live encaged. Land of the law-abiding, yet land of the lawless. Land of riches, yet land of poverty. Land of good people, yet land of wicked people. Land of honest people, yet land of the fraudulent. Land of God’s people, yet land of the devil. It is for you I write. It is for you I sing.
I sing about decadence. I sing of honesty and integrity gone to the dogs. I sing of young men with laptops, defrauding foreigners on the internet with promises of millions of dollars stolen from government and waiting to be collected at the false Central Bank of their smart imagination. I sing of Nigeria at 49, a figure that reminds me of 419. I sing of insecurity, of anguish, of kidnapping, of ritual killings, of political killings. I sing for our murdered citizens whose murderers have vanished into the mist of oblivion, never to be traced, never to be found, never to be brought to justice.
I sing about classrooms with locked doors and the teachers refusing to teach because their cup of anger is full. Their cup of anger is boiling and is running over.
I sing of a country where bribery is our national currency. I sing of policemen, turned beggars at roadblocks. I sing of judges offering judgement based on who has offered money behind closed doors. I sing of a country where injustice sits like a king over justice. I sing of students wasting the sweetness and the vigour of their youths in the idle deserts of an uncertain future. I sing of education that has been polluted like the polluted waters of the Niger Delta. I sing of rebels in the creeks, temporarily dropping their guns and waving white flags of surrender. I see disillusionment everywhere on every face. I see our citizens in Diaspora too afraid to return home, because home looks like a picture of Dante’s infernal hell.
Each October 1 calls into question how far we have come, how much progress we have made, how much we have stretched our human intellect. But each time we make our self-assessment, each time we examine our report card, we find failure staring shamefully at us like a student scoring an F. We find that in spite of all that God has endowed us with in Nigeria, there is still so much to be done and so much that has been left undone. In our result slip, there are so many Fs, so many errors standing uncorrected in our zigzag journey to the unknown future. It was the great Nigerian Juju music icon King Sunny Ade who sang years back, in his heyday: “I don’t know where this driver is driving me to. Is it forward or is it backward?”
Many a times, the military have intervened to correct our collective errors only to push us back into the deepest abyss of mess. Corrective regimes end up as disruptive calamities. And even when democracy is restored, it is marred by massive election rigging. And our troubles worsen. Oh, Nigeria, which way are we going at 50? Is it right? Or is it left?
In Nigeria today, nothing seems right. Why can’t we get our elections right? Why can’t we get our educational system right? Why can’t we get our electricity problems right? Why can’t we put our horrible roads in the right path with all the money we are swimming in? Why can’t we get our economy right? Why can’t we get our banking right? Why is our nation driving in reverse when we should be driving forward in the journey to our 50 years of independence?
In the past, Nigeria was the country to fear even on the field of soccer, but today nobody fears Nigeria anymore. Not Tunisia. Not Kenya. Not Mozambique. The “Super” in our Eagles has been clipped away and we are no longer Super Eagles. Today, we are tottering at the brinks where we stand the chance of not even qualifying for the World Cup holding right here in Africa. Oh, what a shame! Even in youth soccer where we used to tower above the world, Ghana has taken over from us as the soccer kings of Africa.
The true picture of the state of Nigeria is reflected in our soccer. Look at the Super Eagles coach and you see the picture of Nigeria’s leadership today. A coach just sitting there, helplessly, bereft of ideas, staring vacuously and unable to influence anything on the field of play. A true leader should be a catalyst, a motivator, an agent of change for good. Not a passive spectator. Look at Governor Fashola of Lagos State and you see the picture of leadership in motion. A leader like Fashola gives us hope that all is not lost.
All is not lost in Nigeria. The future is for us to change. “We have it in our power to begin the world over again,” writes Thomas Paine in his book, Common Sense. We still have our destiny in our hands and Nigeria is for us to change for good. Nigeria would change for good. It will. Whether they like it or not, we, the people, will change Nigeria for good. With everything we have, we will change Nigeria. We will topple all our “nattering nabobs of negativism,” if I may use the phrase coined by the great journalist and speechwriter William Safire for President Lyndon Johnson who popularized the phrase. William Safire just died. May his soul rest in piece.
Next year Nigeria would be 50 and we owe this country a lot. This country has done a lot for us. It deserves at least a befitting 50th birthday celebration. As individuals, we know what it means to celebrate 50th birthday. It’s something we celebrate only once in a lifetime. Many of us will not live to see Nigeria celebrate its 100th birthday anniversary. This is a chance of a lifetime. So let’s celebrate this one. Let’s celebrate Nigeria at 50. Let’s reinvent Nigeria.
Let’s start planning for it now. Let’s set up a committee to organise the 50th birthday fiesta. Let’s borrow a leaf from Ghana when they celebrated the 50th anniversary of their country with so much pomp, pageantry and an overflow of patriotism.
I was in Ghana when Ghana celebrated the 50th anniversary of their country’s independence. It was a very impressive and emotional spectacle. I watched Ghanaians all dressed up in the colours of their country, waving buntings and carrying their national flags on top of every building and every moving object. Even animals shared in the celebrations as dogs and goats and cows were decorated in the red, gold and green colours of Ghana.
Let us show the world that at least, we too love our country. This beautiful country that has given us so much in this fifty years. This country that has blessed us with the best of oil, gas, mineral resources, agricultural resources and the best of everything. This land of milk and honey. Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country, so said President John F. Kennedy of blessed memory.
Without even asking, Nigeria has done so much for us already. Don’t blame Nigeria for our problems. Blame our leaders who have stolen and stolen and impoverished the larger majority of Nigerians. Without any doubt, Nigeria has tried for Nigerians and even non-Nigerians. For once, let’s join hands to give Nigeria a befitting 50th birthday party. Let’s boogie everybody. Let’s party.
Nigeria, my fatherland, it is for you I sing. It is for you I write this piece. It is my own version of the legendary Chinua Achebe’s “Trouble With Nigeria.”
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Friday, September 18, 2009
Epistle to a young journalist (2): Journalism, Marketing And Michael Jackson
My dearly beloved young journalist. I illustrated my first epistle ‘21 Things to Study Before You Die,’ with the picture of Michael Jackson and you wondered: Why Michael Jackson?
Michael Jackson is a study in success, a study in journalism, a study in marketing and a study in the finality of man. Since this column is about journalism, let me start with how Michael Jackson connects with journalism.
Journalism (or better still, news) is about the unusual. It is about oddities. It is about the bizarre. And in his life and times, nobody embodied the art of the bizarre more than the man they called ‘Wacko Jacko.’ He was the queer one. He was the unusual one. He was the true ‘king of the tabloids’ who knew how to keep himself in the news even when there was nothing to report, who would dangle his baby from the balcony of his storey building hotel, all to get the attention of the media. Each time he sneezed, the world of journalism not only caught cold but went into frenzy. Even from his grave, Michael Jackson defines and orchestrates the news. His story is far, far from over.
Michael Jackson through his sudden death was like what is called in English literature a ‘deus ex machina’ that came out of the blues to rejuvenate the global newspaper industry suffering from circulation meltdown and near-death situation.
My dear young journalist, I want you to learn the fact that global icons who die young make good copies. Like Lady Diana, Michael Jackson, in life and death, was a good copy. And he is still a good copy. A good copy is any story that is an editor’s delight, any story that people would love to read and keep. A good copy is any story that is newsworthy.
In your life as a journalist, you must always go out in search of good copies. That is what would make you to succeed in this business. In journalism, you are as good as your last scoop. As Shakespeare would say, the evil that men do lives after them. Let me add that in journalism, the scoop that you cover lives after you. It is what people remember you by. Generations of Nigerian journalists would remember the story of a journalist by name Segun Osoba who lived by unearthing scoops. His biggest scoop was the discovery of the body of the assassinated Nigeria’s Prime Minister Tafawa Balewa in the first of the series of coups that afflicted our beloved country.
The more scoops and the more good copies you churn out, the more you stand the chance of climbing to the apex of the journalism ladder. Boy, you may be too young to remember Carl Bernstein and Bob Woodward of The Washington Post fame. Just go to Google. They were the two crack investigative reporters who uncovered the Watergate Scandal that brought down President Richard Nixon of the United States. Today, Bernstein and Woodward are legends on account of Watergate. You too can become a legend tomorrow if you work diligently. You too can make your mark.
In my first epistle, I enjoined you to study the past masters in your field if you want to achieve excellence. Michael Jackson understood that law. He studied and learnt from the past masters in the field of music and show business. Past masters like Jackie Wilson, James Brown, Little Richard, Elvis Presley, the Beatles and everybody he needed to understudy. He was a voracious listener of music. In those days, as his brother Marlon told the world at that funeral concert, Michael would disguise as an old man and walk into record shops to buy lots and lots of CDs.
In dancing, Michael Jackson acknowledges Jackie Wilson and James Brown as his greatest influences. He says of Jackie Wilson: “In the entertainment business, there are leaders and followers. And I just want to say I think Jackie Wilson was a wonderful entertainer.” He paid this tribute when he was receiving a Grammy for Thriller in 1984 as the best album of the year. Thriller ended up as the best album of all times. So, what is your own Thriller? If you die, what would you regard as your greatest achievement in this life? What would you love to be remembered for?
When James Brown died, Michael Jackson had this to say of his “master” J.B.: “Ever since I was a small child, no more like six years old, my mother would wake me no matter what time it was if I was sleeping, no matter what I was doing, to watch the television to see the master at work. And when I saw his move, I was mesmerized. I had never seen a performer perform like James Brown, and right then and there I knew exactly what I wanted to do for the rest of my life because of James Brown.”
One day, a new king of pop would emerge to pay tribute to Michael Jackson as the past master that showed him the way. Such is life. Someone must blaze the path for others to follow. In my career, a newspaper legend called Dele Giwa was my master, my mentor and the man who showed me the way to go in journalism. I thank him wherever he is today.
Now, my son, don’t limit yourself to journalism, if you want to succeed in life. Be multi-disciplinary. Learn everything there is to learn. Learn management. Learn marketing. That is why I wrote those two voluminous books, one on management and the other on marketing: 50 NIGERIAN CORPORATE STRATEGISTS and NIGERIA’S MARKETING MEMOIRS. Those two books changed my life and my thinking for good. From those books, I got to learn that life without marketing is lifelessness. It’s hollow. It’s emptiness. It’s darkness. It’s like winking in the dark to a girl, to use that famous analogy.
Michael Jackson knew marketing and he benefitted from its knowledge. Sensing his marketability, Pepsi used him many years ago to fight Coca-Cola to a standstill. He became the face of the new generation called the “Pepsi Generation.” With Michael Jackson, Pepsi outsold Coca-Cola which made Coca-Cola to panic and to introduce a “New Coke” formula which failed in the market and plunged Coke into deeper quagmire. My son, study marketing and you would never regret it. Do you remember the times when Michael Jackson’s caught fire when shooting the Pepsi advert?
Michael Jackson is a study in branding. Even in his songs, you can hear a master marketer at work. Here is an analysis of Michael Jackson’s lyrics from a marketing perspective:
Wanna Be Starting Something tells you to be innovative when you are coming out with a new product. In marketing, the rule is: innovate or die. Always innovate. Be a step ahead of the competition.
Rock With You tells you to get close your customers and to rock with them. Excite them. Thrill them. Build a long lasting relationship with your readers, with your customers. That is one of the commandments of marketing.
Got To Be There. Have a vision in life. Have a goal. Have a purpose. Have a dream. And strive to attain that dream. Strive to be there.
Don’t Stop ‘Till Get enough. Aim higher and higher. Aim for excellence. Don’t stop until you attain your set goal, your vision, your whatever. Don’t give up. Don’t stop as you jump the hurdles of life. Life is an Olympics. You must keep on jumping. You must keep on raising the bar until you hit your own Thriller.
Beat it. In the competitive marketplace, the enemies are out to get you. They’ll kick you, then they beat you. Then they tell you it’s fair. Michael Jackson tells us in life and in marketing, “no one wants to be defeated. Everybody wants to stay alive.”
Man In The Mirror. Everybody wants to create a world beater, but before you do it, you have to start first with looking at yourself in the mirror and knowing exactly who you are and what you can offer. Change yourself before you can change the world, Jackson says.
We Are The World. Globalize. Make the world your benchmark. Aim at world standards in everything you do. Aim to rule the world. This is a song of compassion enjoining us to give to the world, to give to the poor. After all, we are the world and we are children of one God. Our responsibility is to make this world a better place than we found it.
Off The Wall. Michael Jackson tells us in this song that we should not forget to enjoy ourselves after working so hard. Let’s learn to relax. It’s not all work, work, work. He sings: “So tonight...gotta leave that nine to five upon the shelf...And just enjoy yourself. Groove. Let the madness in the music get you. Life ain’t so bad at all...If you live it off the wall.”
Now, you can understand why I illustrated my piece last week with Michael Jackson’s photograph.
*Mike Awoyinfa is on Facebook and on Twitter.
Michael Jackson is a study in success, a study in journalism, a study in marketing and a study in the finality of man. Since this column is about journalism, let me start with how Michael Jackson connects with journalism.
Journalism (or better still, news) is about the unusual. It is about oddities. It is about the bizarre. And in his life and times, nobody embodied the art of the bizarre more than the man they called ‘Wacko Jacko.’ He was the queer one. He was the unusual one. He was the true ‘king of the tabloids’ who knew how to keep himself in the news even when there was nothing to report, who would dangle his baby from the balcony of his storey building hotel, all to get the attention of the media. Each time he sneezed, the world of journalism not only caught cold but went into frenzy. Even from his grave, Michael Jackson defines and orchestrates the news. His story is far, far from over.
Michael Jackson through his sudden death was like what is called in English literature a ‘deus ex machina’ that came out of the blues to rejuvenate the global newspaper industry suffering from circulation meltdown and near-death situation.
My dear young journalist, I want you to learn the fact that global icons who die young make good copies. Like Lady Diana, Michael Jackson, in life and death, was a good copy. And he is still a good copy. A good copy is any story that is an editor’s delight, any story that people would love to read and keep. A good copy is any story that is newsworthy.
In your life as a journalist, you must always go out in search of good copies. That is what would make you to succeed in this business. In journalism, you are as good as your last scoop. As Shakespeare would say, the evil that men do lives after them. Let me add that in journalism, the scoop that you cover lives after you. It is what people remember you by. Generations of Nigerian journalists would remember the story of a journalist by name Segun Osoba who lived by unearthing scoops. His biggest scoop was the discovery of the body of the assassinated Nigeria’s Prime Minister Tafawa Balewa in the first of the series of coups that afflicted our beloved country.
The more scoops and the more good copies you churn out, the more you stand the chance of climbing to the apex of the journalism ladder. Boy, you may be too young to remember Carl Bernstein and Bob Woodward of The Washington Post fame. Just go to Google. They were the two crack investigative reporters who uncovered the Watergate Scandal that brought down President Richard Nixon of the United States. Today, Bernstein and Woodward are legends on account of Watergate. You too can become a legend tomorrow if you work diligently. You too can make your mark.
In my first epistle, I enjoined you to study the past masters in your field if you want to achieve excellence. Michael Jackson understood that law. He studied and learnt from the past masters in the field of music and show business. Past masters like Jackie Wilson, James Brown, Little Richard, Elvis Presley, the Beatles and everybody he needed to understudy. He was a voracious listener of music. In those days, as his brother Marlon told the world at that funeral concert, Michael would disguise as an old man and walk into record shops to buy lots and lots of CDs.
In dancing, Michael Jackson acknowledges Jackie Wilson and James Brown as his greatest influences. He says of Jackie Wilson: “In the entertainment business, there are leaders and followers. And I just want to say I think Jackie Wilson was a wonderful entertainer.” He paid this tribute when he was receiving a Grammy for Thriller in 1984 as the best album of the year. Thriller ended up as the best album of all times. So, what is your own Thriller? If you die, what would you regard as your greatest achievement in this life? What would you love to be remembered for?
When James Brown died, Michael Jackson had this to say of his “master” J.B.: “Ever since I was a small child, no more like six years old, my mother would wake me no matter what time it was if I was sleeping, no matter what I was doing, to watch the television to see the master at work. And when I saw his move, I was mesmerized. I had never seen a performer perform like James Brown, and right then and there I knew exactly what I wanted to do for the rest of my life because of James Brown.”
One day, a new king of pop would emerge to pay tribute to Michael Jackson as the past master that showed him the way. Such is life. Someone must blaze the path for others to follow. In my career, a newspaper legend called Dele Giwa was my master, my mentor and the man who showed me the way to go in journalism. I thank him wherever he is today.
Now, my son, don’t limit yourself to journalism, if you want to succeed in life. Be multi-disciplinary. Learn everything there is to learn. Learn management. Learn marketing. That is why I wrote those two voluminous books, one on management and the other on marketing: 50 NIGERIAN CORPORATE STRATEGISTS and NIGERIA’S MARKETING MEMOIRS. Those two books changed my life and my thinking for good. From those books, I got to learn that life without marketing is lifelessness. It’s hollow. It’s emptiness. It’s darkness. It’s like winking in the dark to a girl, to use that famous analogy.
Michael Jackson knew marketing and he benefitted from its knowledge. Sensing his marketability, Pepsi used him many years ago to fight Coca-Cola to a standstill. He became the face of the new generation called the “Pepsi Generation.” With Michael Jackson, Pepsi outsold Coca-Cola which made Coca-Cola to panic and to introduce a “New Coke” formula which failed in the market and plunged Coke into deeper quagmire. My son, study marketing and you would never regret it. Do you remember the times when Michael Jackson’s caught fire when shooting the Pepsi advert?
Michael Jackson is a study in branding. Even in his songs, you can hear a master marketer at work. Here is an analysis of Michael Jackson’s lyrics from a marketing perspective:
Wanna Be Starting Something tells you to be innovative when you are coming out with a new product. In marketing, the rule is: innovate or die. Always innovate. Be a step ahead of the competition.
Rock With You tells you to get close your customers and to rock with them. Excite them. Thrill them. Build a long lasting relationship with your readers, with your customers. That is one of the commandments of marketing.
Got To Be There. Have a vision in life. Have a goal. Have a purpose. Have a dream. And strive to attain that dream. Strive to be there.
Don’t Stop ‘Till Get enough. Aim higher and higher. Aim for excellence. Don’t stop until you attain your set goal, your vision, your whatever. Don’t give up. Don’t stop as you jump the hurdles of life. Life is an Olympics. You must keep on jumping. You must keep on raising the bar until you hit your own Thriller.
Beat it. In the competitive marketplace, the enemies are out to get you. They’ll kick you, then they beat you. Then they tell you it’s fair. Michael Jackson tells us in life and in marketing, “no one wants to be defeated. Everybody wants to stay alive.”
Man In The Mirror. Everybody wants to create a world beater, but before you do it, you have to start first with looking at yourself in the mirror and knowing exactly who you are and what you can offer. Change yourself before you can change the world, Jackson says.
We Are The World. Globalize. Make the world your benchmark. Aim at world standards in everything you do. Aim to rule the world. This is a song of compassion enjoining us to give to the world, to give to the poor. After all, we are the world and we are children of one God. Our responsibility is to make this world a better place than we found it.
Off The Wall. Michael Jackson tells us in this song that we should not forget to enjoy ourselves after working so hard. Let’s learn to relax. It’s not all work, work, work. He sings: “So tonight...gotta leave that nine to five upon the shelf...And just enjoy yourself. Groove. Let the madness in the music get you. Life ain’t so bad at all...If you live it off the wall.”
Now, you can understand why I illustrated my piece last week with Michael Jackson’s photograph.
*Mike Awoyinfa is on Facebook and on Twitter.
Epistle to a young journalist: 21 Things to Study Before You Die
My dearly beloved young journalist—whoever you may be. I am writing this epistle to you as a guide. Everybody needs a guide and a guardian. Let me be your guardian, your mentor, your teacher, in this long, long journalistic journey.
As an old man in this profession, I have seen a lot and I am sharing with you the benefits of my experience and the little wisdom I have acquired over the years. Call it the wisdom of time.
This epistle would be written in a series. It follows the pattern of the great Apostle Paul who wrote series of epistles to the early churches. My epistle today is given a scriptural anchor from 2 Timothy 2:15. It reads:
‘Study to show yourself approved unto God, a workman that needed not be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth.’
The key word in this verse is: STUDY. As journalists, we are workers constantly studying, constantly working in the field of knowledge and constantly “spreading” or “dividing the word of truth” as Apostle Paul puts it in his letter to his protégé, Timothy. As we all know, news is the “word of truth”! The Scripture as I have just quoted tells us that God approves the endless search for knowledge through studying: “Study to show yourself approved unto God.” And the Scriptures also tell us: don’t be “ashamed” to seek knowledge.
As journalists, we are students of life and students for life. We study so that we can be in the position of opinion leadership. We study to sharpen our brains the way physical exercise strengthens the body. Remember the saying that a sound mind makes a sound body.
Studying gives us information and information gives us knowledge and knowledge gives us wisdom and wisdom gives us everything—power, wealth, influence, everything.
I have deliberately titled this piece ‘21 Things to Study Before You Die.’ It is not as if you want to die or I want you to die. What I really mean is to provide you with the 21 strategic things, from my perspective, that you need to study, if you want to succeed in life and in business. They are as follows:
1. Study the laws and the secrets of success in business and in life.
2. Study case studies. Study what has worked in other environments and see how you can apply them to your situation, to your business.
3. Study the latest research findings and the latest knowledge in your field or your business. Study your business closely.
4. Study the ways and habits of successful people. Stephen Covey has written along this line in his famous book, The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People.
5. Study the biographies and autobiographies of great people.
6. Study the Book of Quotations and you would be wise and educated.
7. Study the Book of Failures and learn from it. Learning from failure can help you succeed. It teaches you what to avoid.
8. Study the success stories of men who began with nothing and became wealthy.
9. Study the past masters in your field and study your superiors.
10. Study your market, your customers and your product and services.
11. Study your competition—his product, his strategies and everything.
12. Study what makes you sell and what doesn’t make you sell in the marketplace.
13. Study the feedback you get in the marketplace, from your customers and your critics.
14. Study in your own study. Have a library where you have all the time to think and meditate on your life and your business.
15. Study yourself. That is, know your strength and weakness, then follow your heart and gut instincts and you would never be wrong.
16. Study human beings and you would learn a lot. Study the world around you. That is how we journalists get news—from studying people and places.
17. Study the Internet and make full use of it, because a lot of information lies out there in cyberspace which can make you prosper.
18. Study the affairs of the world, the affairs of your country and the affairs of your locality. A journalist is a man of affairs.
19. Study good writers and discover new ones. The ability to appreciate good writing is the stepping stone to being a good writer. Get excited when you see good writing. There are just few writers that excite these days. The rest is sheer tedium. Sheer boredom. Good writers don’t bore you. They usually don’t write too long. But bad writers write and write and write.
20. Study the little things that make the BIG difference in life. Study little children, because out of the mouths of babes and suckling has thou ordained strength. (Ps 8:2)
21. Above all things study the WORD of GOD and meditate on it day and night and you would never lack wisdom. To succeed in life and in business, you need to read often this wonderful book of wisdom which contains everything under the sun.
(This piece is an adaptation of a talk I gave at a retreat for some managers and journalists. I’m downloading it and sharing it with you, hoping that you would find it useful.)
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
An elegy for Gani: ‘Greet your friend Dele Giwa!’
Thank you God. What else do I do than to thank you God for Gani’s death? And Gani’s life too. Thank you for the gift of life. Thank you for the gift of this unique human being whom you gifted us then plucked away from us at the ripeness of season. Thank you for Gani Fawehinmi at 71.
Thank you for this transparent man in this transparent casket. This man now lying down in the deep sleep of eternity. This man sleeping undisturbed in the everlasting siesta. This man sleeping the sleep of a runner who had run a good race and is crowned with the green cap of victory. This man sleeping the sleep of a fighter whose head was bloodied many times but remained unbowed to the very end. This man sleeping unbowed to repressive tyrants who beat, tortured and locked him inside the walls of every prison in Nigeria.
This man sleeping in the sadness of his unfinished business of Nigeria still left in tatters after all these years of his one-man fight to liberate Nigeria from the shackles of poverty, from injustice, from the greedy few who have looted and are still looting the nation while the masses are enchained in poverty.
This man arrayed in celestial white robe matched with the green cap of his beloved Nigeria and whose body is being showcased for beggars to pay homage. When beggars die, no comets are seen, says the great William Shakespeare in Julius Caesar. Gani was not a beggar but he was a friend of beggars. He was a man of means who sacrificed his life to fight for the needy. The blind and the voiceless all came in to pay their last respect to their hero. This man who is the last of the true Nigerian heroes. A man for all seasons and a man for all reasons. A man of valour. A leader. A fearless leader who led from the front to face soldiers and policemen, charging, armed with their guns and tear gas to terrorize angry demonstrators fighting for their rights to a better Nigeria. An orator who would confront and convince anti-riot policemen and soldiers sent to kill, to lay down their arms. He would ask them: “Are you not Nigerians too? Is it not for you and for your children that we are fighting this oppressive government?”
God, thank you for this great man whose end is a grim reminder to us all that life’s tortuous journey ends not at Charlie Boy’s Bus Stop but at Death’s Bus Stop.
Thank you for this great tree that has fallen from the poached forest of our sick fatherland. In times like this, I go to the poets for inspiration and consolation. It was the great poet Maya Angelou who wrote in her collections of poems, ‘CELEBRATIONS: RITUALS OF PEACE AND PRAYER’ that: “When great trees fall, rocks on distant hills shudder, lions hunker down in tall grasses, and even elephants lumber after safety.
“When great trees fall in forests, small things recoil into silence, their senses eroded by fear. When great souls die, the air around us becomes light, rare, sterile. We breathe briefly. Our eyes, briefly, see with a hurtful clarity. Our memory, suddenly sharpened, examines, gnaws on kind words unsaid, promised walks never taken.”
Gani was a great tree fallen. Gani was the lion of the legal trade held in awe by lawyers and judges alike. Gani was the god of thunder, breathing fire, arguing hard in the court of law in the quest for justice and righteousness. On the Day of Judgment, he would know how to argue when he meets his Maker. He would not even need to argue, because his good works on earth would speak for him.
Thank you God, for this man of peace now sleeping in peace. It was the Good Lord who said: “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the sons of God.” Gani was a peacemaker.
Again, the Good Lord said: “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” Gani in his life and times fought for the enthronement of righteousness but he was persecuted and reviled.
Without any doubt, Gani was a prophet. A prophet with honour among his own countrymen. Many years ago when he visited me in my days as the editor of the Weekend Concord, I told him in my welcome speech that: “God needs you.” Indeed God needed Gani to cry out in this wilderness call Nigeria, a land of plenty turned into a wasteland of sheer prodigality. A land blessed by God with oil and rich mineral resources that should make us live in comfort for many generations to come, but instead we live in hell, surrounded by the waters of poverty.
In the waters of the Niger Delta and everywhere in Nigeria today, you see riches, poverty and deprivation living side by side. The rich minority live in splendour while the poor majority wallow in abysmal poverty. And Gani cried.
Gani wanted a Nigeria where hunger, poverty and ignorance are banished for good. But he died in this unfinished business, ravaged by cancer. As you read this column, may cancer and incurable diseases of any sort not be your portion in Jesus name. And me too, the writer of this column. Me and my family. May cancer and incurable Egyptian diseases never be our portion! Thank God Gani has gone to rest, free of the agony and tortures of cancer, the big, fatal enemy. One day, one fine day, even cancer would be subdued. Man would find answer to cancer’s cure. Yes, Lord, you will find us the medicine, the ultimate solution to all incurable, terminal diseases that have become a final death sentence to the innocent and the guilty alike. Lord, speak your healing words to the world and set us free from all infirmities. Open the eyes of our doctors, our scientists, our researchers to the mysteries locked in your wisdom. Only you can cure cancer. Only you can cure AIDS. Only you can banish all sickness that have become our afflictions. Even doctors say so.
The very last time we met, Gani was such pathetic figure. He spoke in a weird falsetto that was not his voice. The body was Gani’s but the voice was not his. It was such a pity to hear him talk. The voice of the voiceless had lost his ultimate weapon. The drummer could no longer drum. The trumpeter could no longer blow his trumpet. Things had truly fallen apart and Gani was no longer at ease. He was no longer himself. And Gani without a voice is as good as dead. In the words of my colleagues Femi Adesina and Dimgba Igwe when we visited the Fawehinmi family on Tuesday, Gani died over a year ago. Yes, he died the day he lost his voice to cancer of the lungs.
God we thank you for Gani’s life and Gani’s death. The good that he did would live after him. The fire of his legacy would burn forever in our hearts like the flame of the Olympics. Gani was an Olympic runner crowned with the green laurels of a better Nigeria where equality, justice and prosperity reign for all. May this man sleeping sleep in peace.
Goodnight Ganiyu Fawehinmi. Goodnight our great lawyer. Goodnight and greet your friend Dele Giwa.
Thank you for this transparent man in this transparent casket. This man now lying down in the deep sleep of eternity. This man sleeping undisturbed in the everlasting siesta. This man sleeping the sleep of a runner who had run a good race and is crowned with the green cap of victory. This man sleeping the sleep of a fighter whose head was bloodied many times but remained unbowed to the very end. This man sleeping unbowed to repressive tyrants who beat, tortured and locked him inside the walls of every prison in Nigeria.
This man sleeping in the sadness of his unfinished business of Nigeria still left in tatters after all these years of his one-man fight to liberate Nigeria from the shackles of poverty, from injustice, from the greedy few who have looted and are still looting the nation while the masses are enchained in poverty.
This man arrayed in celestial white robe matched with the green cap of his beloved Nigeria and whose body is being showcased for beggars to pay homage. When beggars die, no comets are seen, says the great William Shakespeare in Julius Caesar. Gani was not a beggar but he was a friend of beggars. He was a man of means who sacrificed his life to fight for the needy. The blind and the voiceless all came in to pay their last respect to their hero. This man who is the last of the true Nigerian heroes. A man for all seasons and a man for all reasons. A man of valour. A leader. A fearless leader who led from the front to face soldiers and policemen, charging, armed with their guns and tear gas to terrorize angry demonstrators fighting for their rights to a better Nigeria. An orator who would confront and convince anti-riot policemen and soldiers sent to kill, to lay down their arms. He would ask them: “Are you not Nigerians too? Is it not for you and for your children that we are fighting this oppressive government?”
God, thank you for this great man whose end is a grim reminder to us all that life’s tortuous journey ends not at Charlie Boy’s Bus Stop but at Death’s Bus Stop.
Thank you for this great tree that has fallen from the poached forest of our sick fatherland. In times like this, I go to the poets for inspiration and consolation. It was the great poet Maya Angelou who wrote in her collections of poems, ‘CELEBRATIONS: RITUALS OF PEACE AND PRAYER’ that: “When great trees fall, rocks on distant hills shudder, lions hunker down in tall grasses, and even elephants lumber after safety.
“When great trees fall in forests, small things recoil into silence, their senses eroded by fear. When great souls die, the air around us becomes light, rare, sterile. We breathe briefly. Our eyes, briefly, see with a hurtful clarity. Our memory, suddenly sharpened, examines, gnaws on kind words unsaid, promised walks never taken.”
Gani was a great tree fallen. Gani was the lion of the legal trade held in awe by lawyers and judges alike. Gani was the god of thunder, breathing fire, arguing hard in the court of law in the quest for justice and righteousness. On the Day of Judgment, he would know how to argue when he meets his Maker. He would not even need to argue, because his good works on earth would speak for him.
Thank you God, for this man of peace now sleeping in peace. It was the Good Lord who said: “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the sons of God.” Gani was a peacemaker.
Again, the Good Lord said: “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” Gani in his life and times fought for the enthronement of righteousness but he was persecuted and reviled.
Without any doubt, Gani was a prophet. A prophet with honour among his own countrymen. Many years ago when he visited me in my days as the editor of the Weekend Concord, I told him in my welcome speech that: “God needs you.” Indeed God needed Gani to cry out in this wilderness call Nigeria, a land of plenty turned into a wasteland of sheer prodigality. A land blessed by God with oil and rich mineral resources that should make us live in comfort for many generations to come, but instead we live in hell, surrounded by the waters of poverty.
In the waters of the Niger Delta and everywhere in Nigeria today, you see riches, poverty and deprivation living side by side. The rich minority live in splendour while the poor majority wallow in abysmal poverty. And Gani cried.
Gani wanted a Nigeria where hunger, poverty and ignorance are banished for good. But he died in this unfinished business, ravaged by cancer. As you read this column, may cancer and incurable diseases of any sort not be your portion in Jesus name. And me too, the writer of this column. Me and my family. May cancer and incurable Egyptian diseases never be our portion! Thank God Gani has gone to rest, free of the agony and tortures of cancer, the big, fatal enemy. One day, one fine day, even cancer would be subdued. Man would find answer to cancer’s cure. Yes, Lord, you will find us the medicine, the ultimate solution to all incurable, terminal diseases that have become a final death sentence to the innocent and the guilty alike. Lord, speak your healing words to the world and set us free from all infirmities. Open the eyes of our doctors, our scientists, our researchers to the mysteries locked in your wisdom. Only you can cure cancer. Only you can cure AIDS. Only you can banish all sickness that have become our afflictions. Even doctors say so.
The very last time we met, Gani was such pathetic figure. He spoke in a weird falsetto that was not his voice. The body was Gani’s but the voice was not his. It was such a pity to hear him talk. The voice of the voiceless had lost his ultimate weapon. The drummer could no longer drum. The trumpeter could no longer blow his trumpet. Things had truly fallen apart and Gani was no longer at ease. He was no longer himself. And Gani without a voice is as good as dead. In the words of my colleagues Femi Adesina and Dimgba Igwe when we visited the Fawehinmi family on Tuesday, Gani died over a year ago. Yes, he died the day he lost his voice to cancer of the lungs.
God we thank you for Gani’s life and Gani’s death. The good that he did would live after him. The fire of his legacy would burn forever in our hearts like the flame of the Olympics. Gani was an Olympic runner crowned with the green laurels of a better Nigeria where equality, justice and prosperity reign for all. May this man sleeping sleep in peace.
Goodnight Ganiyu Fawehinmi. Goodnight our great lawyer. Goodnight and greet your friend Dele Giwa.
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