In defence of the Nigerian Police Force

After listening to Iyawo's show this morning I felt it was time for one person to actually stand up and defend the much maligned NPF. Now to some this might be a sacrilege as the current perception of the said Force is of corrupt gun toting buffoons and hooligans. This is based on the fact that they are either putting on a ridiculous comedy act to acquire loose change from travellers at the nationwide "illegal" road blocks or they are resorting to more vigorous means in order to extort said loose change. This can sometime result in the untimely passing of an innocent member of the general public which is totally unacceptable.

However lets put things into perspective. Let's use another example of another group of public enemies - the 419ers,  Yahoo Yahoo boys or whatever other name they are called. There is a worldwide perception that "nigerians" are all involved in this trade. Therefore as long as you are a Nigerian you must be involved. In reality I doubt if out of the 140 million Nigerians today that there are up to 50000 Internet fraudsters. This is based on some loose facts. The reason I raise this is that for the same reason we cannot continue to brand the "whole of the NPF" as hooligans. There is perception and then there is reality and sometime the two do converse as seems to be the case here. 

True there is a hardcore element that has been allowed to get out of control basically because of weak leadership. Don't believe all that rubbish where the IGP says he has ordered his men to remove the roadblocks even as you are sitting in front of a roadblock. That is mere propoganda. No Policeman wakes up and goes to the station to report in and then disappears for the day with his rifle and four other similarly armed colleagues in a police vehicle without his stations manager's knowledge or approval. And the station manager's approval comes from the area manager who has the regional commander on his neck to provide a bag of N20 notes every day or else.

But even despite this is a clear majority of Policemen that have a pride in their uniform and their duty and go about it quietly and diligently. We never hear of these ones of course just as we never hear about the university students that only use their laptops for research and studies.

I do not hide the fact that I grew up in a Police family and I have seen both sides of the coin but it seems to me that we are getting to a tipping point where all Policemen are getting tarred with one brush. I know how it feels when I go abroad and the minute it is known I am Nigerian I can see the lightbulb flicker and the spotlight of 419 er pointing my way. It is not fair to me and it is not fair to them. 

I heard today that there had been another change of command. Good. For me the last IGP was extremely ineffective and did the view of the NPF no great favours by claiming he was not aware that Niyi Rubadu had been into the country for Gani's funeral despite the visit having made both TV and newspaper headlines. Hopefully the new one will instill a sense of pride, discipline and honour that has been slowly ebbing out of the force helped by unscrupulous leaders and politicians.

Long Live the NPF.

On the radio.....

Catch me on the radio this Saturday 4th Oct. on the Smooth Book Review Show with Mandy Brown-Ojugbana reviewing two of my fave reads this year - "I do not come to you by chance" and "Harare North". The show is on at 10am on 98.1FM or you can catch it on the internet at http://www.smooth981.fm/ and click on the listen live button.

Let me have your feedback and if you have not read these books then you definitely should.

My father is slowly dying.

My father is slowly dying

he is shrinking away before my very eyes

every day he disappears a little further

takes up less space in the bed

his movement is now minimal

every breath ragged and painful

blind from diabetes

he lives in a world of darkness

but now he sees things

imagines things

remembers things

decade old memories jumbled

with things that happened yesterday

dead friends remembered

he struggles to finish his sentences

but the humour is still there

the sarcasm remains

amidst his shallow breathing and bed sores

even now he still makes us laugh. Out loud.




My father is slowly dying

he has been my hero all my life

I've spent a lifetime trying to please him

to win his love and affection

now he says he's always loved us

he asks us to stick together

he makes us promise to

look after the grandchildren

and his wife, our mother

he wants me to cut down on my exercising

his memory is obviously gone

I haven't exercised for 20 years

but I tell him no problem

I will start straight away.




My father is slowly dying

we gather round for his final words

he rambles here there and everywhere

words of wisdom mixed with nonsense

prayer mixed with odd unintelligible questions

I feel I'm looking in a mirror

sometime far into the future

we've always been too alike physically

so this is the fate that will befall me

sometime in the years ahead

I better get some joy from living

Squeeze some juices out of life

I try not to think of the near future

when his ragged breaths will cease

my sister has already cried river naija

being the eldest and a man

I have only cried a lake.



My father is slowly dying

his skin is stretched tightly across his bones

so tight it is almost translucent

shiny like it's been polished

I tell him that we love him

I tell him we will miss him

We wont know what to do without him

He has always been there for us

He smiles his secret smile

He has said his goodbyes

He'll be leaving soon

I wish him safe travels

He once told me that death was not an ending

but the beginning of another phase

for as we wave the dead adieu from this earth

so others stand at another shore

welcoming them home.



As you go into the dark night Father

please always remember

we love you now and always

and forever more.

And for those on the other shore

waiting patiently to welcome him

we hand him over grudgingly

please take care of him, this gentleman,

for he was truly gentle, and a man.


(p.s- he can be a bit cranky sometimes

but he means no harm.)

Teacher's Pet.

From a very early age we all learn that there are some sacred cows (even though we do not know that this is what they are called at that stage). These are the pampered pooches that can do no wrong. In school, they probably had an older sibling who protected them, or their parent or relative was the Head or a teacher, under whose umbrella they were free to commit all sorts of dastardly deeds knowing full well there would be no repercussions.

In later life daddy, mummy or someone of influence at work gave them the leeway they needed to behave like the spoilt brats they are even though occasionally the odd warning look is thrown their way when they really overstep the bounds of decency. But nonetheless the bad habits and behaviour continue because dirty looks are akin to being beaten to death with a feather. Ineffective.

This is the case of the US and Israel – surely the most pampered terrorist nation on earth. How else can you explain the continuous crimes this nation commits and gets away with if not for the fact that they know that they will be fully protected from all sides by Big Brother. We had barely gotten over the blatant assassination of a guest in a hotel room (Hamas, Hummous whatever) using the forged passports of different nations (imagine the disdain for the sovereignty of these countries which included the UK) before we are now confronted with commandos boarding a humanitarian aid ship fully armed and murdering in cold blood between 10-19 human beings.

Notice how quickly the propaganda machine swung into action with videos showing “soldier being thrown overboard” or “soldier being beaten by metal pipes”. Sob, sob. I notice there was no caption of the soldier pointing his gun at protesters at head level and firing (something wrong with their kneecaps? If all you really wanted to do was subdue them?). As of now there is no report of a single Israeli commando being killed despite the claims that the “terrorists” on board (who are quickly and conveniently linked to every Islamic terror organisation) had guns, knives and other weapons (at least they were considerate enough not to tag the “of mass destruction” on to the end of it). There was even a picture of a soldier holding up a knife to the camera. Even back in my boy scout days we instinctively knew that when confronted with a machine gun toting commando who drops out of the sky in the dead of night, a Swiss army knife is as useful as a condom at a convent. No really, we did.

So now what from Israel? The usual platitudes and excuses. “We must protect our citizens, we must protect Israel, we are the most put upon nation on earth –even with our nuclear weapons, trained army, MOSSAD. Oh woe is us etc etc. We are so generous in that we allow tons of food to be delivered to Gaza every month so those pesky children don't die etc etc.” How much longer can this go on? Can Obama really allow it to go on? Can Europe? Can China?

Who wants to bet me that at then end of it all by next month it will all have blown over and teacher’s pet will be back under teacher’s bosom. Safe and sound. Until the next time.

I don't need nothing for my troubles now.

I don’t need nothing for my troubles now
Please tell my wife and her cabal
That only the Almighty Allah can decide
And now he’s come to claim my soul
Ask her for how much she sold my pride
My dignity and life besides

I don’t need nothing for my troubles now
I’ve laid my weary head to rest
The lies, the pain, the grand façade
Please ask my wife if she did her best
To ease my pain and sooth my brow
Sneaking me back in the dead of night

As if I was a thief or louse
When it was best to let me be

I don’t need nothing for my troubles now
I hope you remember me for what I was
Before they turned me into a thing
Please don’t forgot for all I stood
Before I became a running joke
What I endured no one shall know

But now alas the end has come

I don’t need nothing for my troubles now
For in my lifetime I gave my all
To serve my home and motherland
To lead with quiet dignity and grace
But alas it was not meant to be
From ash we come and so return
I pray for Allah to rest my soul

I don’t need nothing for my troubles now
To those who rejoice at my demise
Tell them this fate befalls all men
There is still time to change their ways
To tell the truth, to face the facts
To all my children I bid farewell

My time has come and I go in peace
I did my best with what I had

I don’t need nothing for my troubles now
I don’t need nothing for my troubles now.

The Power of Electricity and the Electricity of Power.

The Power of Electricity.

Oh how sweet it is. Oh what wonderful feeling. Oh what a wonderful day. I am filled with good spirits. I woke up this morning and stretched and yawned like the cat that got the full fat cream with sugar on top. What has led to this state of delirium. A very simple thing. But profound no less. We have had electricity almost constantly for the past two days. You might say to yourself "and so?". Well considering that in the past year we have been mostly reliant on generators and you can understand my sense of euphoria. Oh yes we have had occasional glimpses of that thing called light. But that has always been a tease. Never full current but that bastard child called low current that destroys your electrical items, barely illuminates a light bulb far less carry fans or air conditioners and also tends to set your house on fire (which is what happened to us).

But for some perverse reason we have been blessed for the last two days with "light". Let's not go overboard here. It is not the full current one would expect in a civilised country but hey, here it is Sunday morning and I can actually make toast for my breakfast. Off the National grid. NEPA. PHCN. Whatever.

Oh I am giddy with joy at this simple thing that in other places are taken for granted. I feel strangely normal. I want to wear some new clothes knowing I wont have sweated through them by the time I stepped out of the bedroom. I can connect to the internet without having to pollute the environment to do so. I can have a shower without silently poisoning my neighbours. I can send to the village for another wife (pending the consent of Iyawo although terms and conditions will apply) on the basis that she can move into a house with almost full current. Tell her people she will never suffer in darkness. Oh I am giddy with excitement. The possibilities. Maybe I will open a manufacturing plant in the backyard. Not sure what we will produce but what does it matter with all this electricity flowing through the house. Oh this Nigeria is a funny country. You sack the Minister for Power and the power supply improves.

The Electricity of Power.

All over the land in direct contrast to my giddiness there will be people who will feel like someone has switched off the lights. They who once were so illuminated and incandescent will now be standing in somewhat duller environments. These people are the recently sacked Ministers who will find that all of a sudden they are also running on half current. Not fully abandoned by friends and acquaintances, in the event that there is a recall on the cards, but certainly not awash with current. This is the way of the world.

From the minute the sackings were announced the crowds will have diminished, the noise abated, the convoy disappears, phones becomes silent, they become (almost) human again. Now they will find out their real worth. For some of them there will be no way back (thank goodness and good riddance). For some it will be like all their "intelligence" had disappeared as where once all they had to do was open their mouth to hold their audience in thrall they will now find out that when they speak now it is like they have gum disease. So it is with the electricity of power. Enjoy it while it lasts. Once it is switched off it's good night and beddy byes.

Looking for clues..

I was very touched last week by the story of the lady that was killed by the whale at Disneyland in Florida. I pondered on this tragedy for quite some time and wondered what could have been done to prevent it. I tried to look for some clues that would have given a hint as to the potential for this sort of tragedy. After much consideration I decided that I would have to put it down to the language we use and the way we use it to describe things.

So for example I tend to avoid vicious dogs. See how the language comes in handy there. Look at it again. Vicious dogs. Let's take another example - Serial killer. Another one to avoid at all costs. It's all there in the name. Oh how our forebears through the generations were so perceptive and accurate with these things. Ok another one. Extreme sports. See for me sport does not need to be extreme. I am more than happy with normal sports - like watching TV. If I want to be extreme about it then I get up to change the channels rather than using the remote -either the one with batteries or the ones that eat my food otherwise known as children.

So back to this poor lady and the killer whale. Spot the clues in that one. You spotted it straight away right? If you were meant to play and fondle the thing surely our forebears the Romans would have named it something like playful whale or tickle my tummy whale or such like. But killer whale? Which means they must have spotted something right? Maybe the first guy didn't but by the time the thing has eaten ten or twenty Romans someone would have stood up in the parliament and said something along the lines of "£$% this. I cannot take it anymore more. From this day forward that beast will no longer be referred to as Tinkerbell. I decree that henceforth it be referred to as a killer whale". Someone never told them at Disneyland.

Which brings me nicely to our Minister for Information who proudly and loudly announced last week that on a matter of national and even international importance - the status of the Yard man- she has no information. Nothing. Nada. So again I went back to the drawing board and banged my head on it. I took a long hard look at her title and pondered how it must feel to be a MOI without I. Is this the sort of thing you stand up in public to announce? Surely that would be reason enough to resign? Throw in the towel? How can you continue? Why not just keep quiet? Keep the lack of information to yourself? Unless you were grandstanding of course. Playing to the gallery. Sending the market women into raptures with your high moral standards and your superior intellect. Over and above the other members of the Cabinet. Meanwhile there are rumours of a major reshuffle in the Cabinet by the Acting President.

Anyone spot the clues there?