The Southerner Newspaper (2026)

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16/09/2025

The Southerner
Omah's Odyssey
Tuesday, September 16, 2025

A lifeline in the storm

By Esther Omah

The morning light crept into my room, a gentle whisper of a new day, but it was the notifications on my phone that caught my attention. Missed calls from Raymond and his friends, a cluster of alerts that sparked a flutter in my chest.

Little did I know, the day ahead would be a journey into the depths of sorrow, a test of the bonds of friendship, and a desperate search for hope in the face of overwhelming despair. I felt a surge of gladness, knowing that they had reached out, and I quickly returned the call, my fingers moving with a sense of urgency.

As Raymond's voice came on the line, I could sense the weight of his grief, a heaviness that seemed to press upon every word. "How are you feeling?" I asked, my voice soft with concern.

His response was a sigh, a gentle exhalation of breath that seemed to carry the weight of his sorrow. "I'm still mourning," he said, his voice cracking with emotion. "Everyone blames me for my father's death, especially my mother. It breaks me even more."

In that moment, I felt a pang of empathy, a deep understanding of the pain he was enduring. The loss of a loved one is never easy, but to bear the weight of blame and guilt on top of that grief seemed almost unbearable. I could imagine the tears streaming down his face, the ache in his heart, and the sense of isolation that came with feeling misunderstood.

As I listened to him, I felt a sense of compassion wash over me, a desire to offer comfort and solace in any way that I could. I knew that words were inadequate, that they could never fully capture the depth of his pain, but I wanted to be there for him, to offer a listening ear and a supportive presence.

In the silence that followed, I could sense the depth of his sorrow, the pain that seemed to seep into every pore of his being. I wanted to reach out, to offer a comforting word, a gesture of solidarity in the face of his grief. And so, I waited, letting the silence speak for itself, as I offered him a space to process his emotions, to grieve, and to heal.

He finally broke the silence hhe loss of my father, is a wound that cut deep, and I am compounded by the weight of blame and judgment from those around me, including my own mother. The sting of their words, like venomous barbs, is continously piercing my heart, leaving me feeling isolated and forsaken.

In that moment, I was struck dumb, my mind a blank canvas unable to conjure the right words of solace. The usual platitudes, the empty phrases of condolence, seemed hollow and insincere, mere Band-Aids on a gaping wound. I knew that "sorry" would be a feeble attempt to capture the depth of his sorrow, that "take heart" would ring hollow in the face of his despair.

As Raymond's words tumbled out, a picture emerged of a world arrayed against him, a universe that seemed determined to crush his spirit. His uncles, once pillars of support, now loomed as menacing figures, their anger and blame a palpable force that threatened to consume him whole. The weight of their disapproval, coupled with the pain of his loss, had become almost unbearable, driving him to the brink of desperation.

And then, the words that chilled me to the bone: "I might just end all of this because it's too much for me to bear." A cry of anguish, a plea for relief from the crushing weight of his sorrow. My heart racing, I interrupted him, my voice barely above a whisper. "Raymond, calm down. You will walk through this door. Believe me, su***de is never an option."

My words, I hoped, would be a lifeline, a fragile thread of hope in a sea of despair. I knew that I couldn't wave a magic wand and make his pain disappear, but I could offer a listening ear, a supportive presence. And so, I stood there, a silent witness to his anguish, my words a gentle reminder that there was a way forward, no matter how dark the road ahead seemed.

As Raymond's words cascaded forth, they were like a tempest of torment, each sentence a poignant reflection of the anguish that ravaged his soul. His voice trembled with regret, a haunting melody that echoed the depths of his pain. "I thought I was trying to stay away from my reality and console myself," he whispered, the words hanging in the air like a mournful sigh, "not knowing that the decision would bring me more hurt and pain."

The weight of his family's, relative and loved one's condemnation and judged loomed like a dark specter, casting a long shadow over his already fragile heart. Their anger and blame were palpable forces, threatening to consume him whole, like a maelstrom of emotions that seemed impossible to navigate. "Everyone wants to skin me alive," he cried out, his voice cracking with emotion, the pain and fear etched into every syllable like a desperate plea for respite.

In that moment, he seemed to be standing alone, exposed and vulnerable, with no refuge from the storm that raged around him like a relentless tempest. The words that followed pierced my heart like a dagger, a cry of despair that seemed to shake the very foundations of his being: "I might just end all of this because it's too much for me to bear." The desperation in his voice was a palpable thing, a sense of hopelessness that seemed to suffocate him, like a weight that pressed upon his chest, making it hard to breathe.

As he spoke, I felt a deep sense of empathy, a connection to his pain that seemed to transcend words. I felt the weight of his sorrow, the crushing burden of his guilt and shame. And in that moment, I knew that I had to reach out to him, to offer some glimmer of hope in the darkness that surrounded him. I interrupted him, my voice a gentle whisper of reassurance. "Raymond, calm down. You will walk through this door. Believe me, su***de is never an option."

My words were a lifeline, a fragile thread of connection in a world that seemed determined to tear him apart. I knew that I couldn't wave a magic wand and make his pain disappear, but I could offer a listening ear, a supportive presence. And so, I held out hope that my words would be a beacon of light in the darkness, a reminder that he was not alone, that there was a way forward, no matter how treacherous the path may seem.

The urgency of the moment propelled me into action, my fingers moving with a sense of purpose as I dialed Chidi and Fred's numbers. The phone seemed to ring out in slow motion, each tone a countdown to the moment when I would hear their voices, their words, their reassurances.

As Fred's voice came on the line, it was laced with a mix of concern and relief, like the first gentle breeze of dawn breaking through the darkness. "That's the rea*on you missed our calls this morning," he said, his words tumbling out like a river breaking its banks. "We almost lost Raymond last night." The phrase hung in the air like a challenge, a stark reminder of the fragility of life, the uncertainty of the future.

My heart skipped a beat, a heavy weight settling in my chest like a stone dropped into the depths of a still pond. The words "almost lost" echoed through my mind, a haunting refrain that seemed to reverberate deep within my soul. I felt a shiver run down my spine, a cold dread that seemed to seep into my very bones.

As I listened to Fred's words, I could feel the weight of Raymond's struggle, the pain and the fear that had gripped him. It was as if I was standing on the edge of a precipice, staring into the abyss of his despair, feeling the vertigo of his emotions. And yet, even in the midst of that darkness, there was a glimmer of hope, a sense that we had come close to losing him, but hadn't.

In that moment, I knew that I had to hold on to that hope, to cling to it like a lifeline, and to reach out to Raymond with every fiber of my being. The phone seemed to tremble in my hand, a tangible connection to the people I cared about, a reminder that even in the darkest moments, there was always a way forward, always a chance to make a difference.

Fred continued as Chidi and I arrived at Raymond's family house, a sense of trepidation settled over us like a shroud. The silence that greeted us was oppressive, a heavy blanket that suffocated the air from our lungs. We called out for Raymond, our voices echoing through the empty halls like a desperate plea. And then, we saw him, lying on the floor, his body limp and still, unresponsive to touch and sound.

Time seemed to freeze as we stood there, frozen in horror, our minds struggling to comprehend the scene unfolding before us. The world around us melted away, leaving only the stark reality of Raymond's fragile form, his life hanging in the balance. We sprang into action, our movements swift and decisive as we rushed him to the hospital, our hearts pounding in our chests like drums beating out a frantic rhythm.

The hospital became a blur of beeping machines, sterile white walls, and the soft murmur of medical professionals working tirelessly to save Raymond's life. The minutes ticked by like hours, each one a countdown to the moment when we would know his fate. And then, the news we had been praying for: Raymond was alive, his fragile thread of life still clinging to hope.

As I screamed and requested the address, my voice was barely audible, a raw expression of fear and anguish that seemed to rip from my very soul. The words tumbled out in a rush, a desperate plea for answers, for reassurance, for a lifeline to cling to in the midst of chaos.

In the aftermath, I felt lost and alone, a stranger in my own world. "No one was in the house," I thought, the words echoing in my mind like a haunting refrain. I hadn't even gotten to see my parents, to speak to them about my way, my feelings, my fears. I had just vanished, lost in the chaos of the moment, searching for a lifeline to cling to.

The pain of that realization was a palpable thing, a weight that pressed upon my chest.

15/09/2025

The Southerner
The LYNX EYE
Monday, September 15 2025

Against Dangote, NUPENG has no case

By Taiwo Adisa

While writing on this issue in her Funke Egbemode on Wednesday column in the Nigerian Tribune of September 10, my sister and prolific essayist, Funke Egbemode, chose to speak in parables. She talked of Dangote and his two wives and how the senior wife is refusing to perform her duties while placing a ban on the second wife from doing the same. A sort of turbo-engine trouble for the husbandman.

However, with the Department of State Services (DSS) intervening in the feud on Tuesday, sanity seemed to be on the horizon, as the differences between the National Union of Petroleum and Natural Gas Workers (NUPENG) and the Dangote Petroleum Refinery attempted to foist fuel scarcity on the nation once again.

Following the truce brokered by the top echelons of the DSS, the strike already embarked upon by members of NUPENG was called off. That was on Wednesday. By Thursday, however, the drumbeats from NUPENG had started changing. The union had again reverted to the language of threats, leaving the possibility of the disruption of the fuel supply chain a reality. There is no debate that such is not a burden Nigerians would want to bear at this time.

The DSS knew that, and that informed the decision of its directors to put in all the energy to avert the earlier push by the union.

Now that the chicken is coming home to roost, the time has come to open the veil with which my sister, Egbemode, deodorised the broil. We must now go beyond the parables and look at the union and Dangote in the eyes. Eyeball-to-eyeball, as they say.

Let me start by stating that only the generation of Nigerians born either shortly before or immediately after the historic June 12, 1993, election would not know what it is to have the union called NUPENG bare its fangs. That union, under the leadership of the legendary Comrade Frank Ovie Kokori (now late), led the struggle for the actualisation of the annulled June 12 election in the fiercest manner anyone could think of.

The union brought the nation to its knees under the regime of the man who used to hide his eyes behind dark glasses, late General Sani Abacha-a man who ruled with a real iron fist-making Nigeria a pariah nation.

Abacha’s brutality knew no bounds. The streets of Lagos witnessed his rage first-hand, and his legacy was well evidenced in the long list of the jailed, hounded, exiled, assassinated, and bombed activists of that era. With bare hands, Kokori and his comrades at NUPENG faced the dreaded Abacha and brought the government to the canvass.

Nigerians, both the cowardly and the valiant, hailed Kokori for his patriotism and for daring to square up with the lion right inside its cage. Though he suffered personal deprivations, Comrade Kokori had shown us all that when NUPENG sneezed, the nation’s petrol dollar economy must beware, or else it runs the risk of recession.

So, when the union called NUPENG threatened to ground the nation’s fuel supply chain last week, choosing to harass Dangote Refineries for refusing to allow its workers to join the union, a lot of adult Nigerians who remembered the nine-week strike embarked upon by the union from July 4, 1994, quickly urged caution.

The leadership of the DSS in Abuja also got the message and mobilised all the parties to achieve a truce.

But the NUPENG of 1994 is a different variety compared to the NUPENG of 2025. Times have changed, and things have also changed. Prof Wole Soyinka wrote The Man Died, and that is exactly what happened to the union.

The man in NUPENG died over the years. It has transformed from the lion-hunting Kokori era to a cockroach-hunted weakling, whose mission in the oil industry is difficult to decipher. Right now, neither the centre court nor the middle of it is holding together in the realm of NUPENG. From the glorious era of fighting the devil, the union is seeking to degenerate into a band that terrorizes the helpless and the innocent.

If the above will not expressly capture the face of NUPENG as presently constituted, I don’t know how else you want to define that union in the face of the feud between it and Dangote Refinery over the issue of unionisation, through which the body is seeking to punish hapless Nigerians with fuel scarcity.

The Dangote Refinery had announced months ago that it was launching a special fuel supply arrangement that would eliminate discriminatory fuel prices at the pumps across the country. It was launching 4,000-strong CNG-powered trucks that would lead the direct supply of fuel to marketers across the country. It's something that would tantalise the business-minded. You don’t need to invest in trucks and also battle with the shenanigans of the drivers, motor boys, and all that to run a filling station.

Nigerians have been waiting patiently for the refinery to start the much-advertised fuel supply, but along the line came the NUPENG distraction. NUPENG members would go on strike because Dangote Refinery was disallowing its staff to join their union!

And like play, like play, a pyjama is turning itself into an a*o ebi for grand occasions. Pronto, a strike had been announced, and before our very eyes, NUPENG was turning what should be an occasion for joy into utter sadness.

I’ve read the contents of the Memorandum of Understanding (MoU) entered into by Dangote Group, NUPENG, the Nigeria Labour Congress (NLC), the Trade Union Congress (TUC), and the NMDPRA.

The kernel of that agreement was that unionisation is free and that Dangote Group would not obstruct the desire of any staff to join the oil workers’ unions. On Thursday, the union raised the alarm that it might resume the suspended strike because the refinery was obstructing the implementation of the MoU.

According to the union, its grouse with Dangote Group began with the accusation that the refinery was attempting to bar drivers of its 4,000 compressed natural gas trucks from joining any union. It was also alleged that, contrary to the freedom of association guaranteed by the 1999 Constitution and international labour conventions, the refinery’s management and MRS, owned by Sayyu Dantata, had compelled drivers to sign undertakings not to join oil and gas unions.

Though we also heard that the Dangote Group had gone ahead to form a local association for its workers, there are no complaints from the affected workers that their rights or freedom of association were being violated.

I think we must look at the NUPENG in the eye and tell them to come down from this high horse of unionism and face the reality of today’s Nigeria. They should also be told to either resolve to work for Nigerians or forget any recourse to mindless activism. As much as the ideals behind unionism are good, we can’t also in our right senses compel anyone to join a union he or she doesn’t want to. The 4,000 truck drivers or is it 60,000 workers Dangote Refinery said would be directly employed in the process have not in anyway expressed displeasure that they are being maltreated in their workplace, so why is NUPENG engaged in anticipated cries, especially as we are unaware that a majority of (if any) the Dangote truck drivers are suffering from what the medical people would call hyposecretory condition or the dry-eye-syndrome.

Contrary to the claims by NUPENG, the Dangote Petroleum Refinery on Thursday came up frontally against the union, accusing it of peddling “wholly inaccurate” submissions in the feud. The refinery stated its commitment to labour rights while asserting that membership in trade unions is a voluntary right.

It stated: “Assertions that drivers are compelled to waive union rights are categorically false. Allegations of union suppression are unfounded and appear to be part of a broader narrative aimed at discrediting private sector progress,” adding that: “Far from threatening livelihoods, this initiative is expected to create over 60,000 direct jobs and many more indirectly. We launched about 4,000 CNG trucks and created jobs. Dangote did not take anybody’s job."

I think the allure of securing check-off dues from the 60,000 staff the refinery claimed would be involved in the CNG initiative is already tilting the NUPENG chiefs into overdrive, making them see nothing other than the use of a sledgehammer to kill an ant. If workers of Dangote refuse to join NUPENG, I don’t think they would have violated any law in the land, after all, the Nigerian labour laws have been liberalised so that any other group can come up with alternatives to NLC and TUC and get registered.

How long did it take Chris Ngige, as Minister of Labour, to get his lackeys in the universities to register a body called CONUA to rival ASUU, in the heat of Buhari’s government’s push to break the Academic Staff Union of Universities? Here is a NUPENG, which has seen Nigerians suffer severe indignities in the hands of oil marketers and governments in relation to fuel scarcity, imaginary fuel subsidies, and all that, and has kept quiet in the last two decades.

Here is a union that has kept its lips sealed even as the nation wasted billions of hard-earned monies on moribund refineries in Port Harcourt, Warri, and Kaduna Here is a body that has remained indifferent to serious allegations of sleaze hanging over the managers of the dead refineries all these years.

Trying to flex muscles with a Dangote Refinery at this time is more of a misplaced bravado. Why can’t the union’s leaders engage the workers of the refinery and sell to them what they stand to benefit from being members of NUPENG? Why try to arm-twist the refinery to enrol its workers by fire by force? It would have been a good thing if we had continued to feel the impact of NUPENG in our lives after the heroics of Kokori and co, in 1994, but a body that kept silent in the face of multifaceted tyrannies suffered by the people cannot start receiving applause when it suddenly proclaims itself a messiah.

If NUPENG wants the ordinary Nigerians to take it seriously, it should batter the people less with the noise of its check-off dues and union stickers. It should play concrete roles in the lives of the people, the nation’s economy, and all that. Seeking to levy allegations that are rooted in emotional blackmail against a Dangote Refinery, which many have come to see as the liberator of the oppressed thus far, can only adorn that union a cloak of shame.

14/09/2025

Saturday Southerner
Another View
Saturday, September 6, 2025

Taribo West's misplaced cry

By Uzodinma Nwaogbe

At the burial of Nigeria's former Super Eagles goalkeeper, Peter Rufai (Dodo Mayana), his playmate and former international star, Pastor Taribo West cried out against the poor treatment meted out to former internationals and their family members.

He was particularly angry that the Federal Government of Nigeria did not play any role in the burial of Peter Rufai.

Though, it has been refuted by the Nigeria Football Federation. The NFF claimed they visited the family of the late star as a show of concern when they learnt of his demise.

West cried and cursed that none of his children would get his support wanting to lay their boots for the country. That is his choice, though. But he should know that Nigeria is a country not in short supply of talents. They are in quantum.

However, it is shocking that such outburst and comment could come from a man that has benefitted hugely in materials and finances, no matter how little from Nigeria each time he and his colleagues played for the country.

Taribo West and his colleagues owe Nigeria gratitude for exposing them to international limelight. It is very obvious that without wearing the country's Green White Green colours, they would not be where they are today.

Nigeria made these stars. Several of them are presently multi millionaires with investments here and there. They have national and international contacts and exposures. How many policemen/women or soldiers have such opportunities?

Again, I think Pastor Taribo West spoke from the position of, Me, Myself and I. He spoke from the standpoint of a man who sees himself and his profession as more important than the others.

What in real sense does Pastor West want from the Federal Government for himself and his colleagues? Is Taribo West and his constituency the only group that have laboured to serve Nigeria?

The Lagos State Government, according to media reports gave the family of Peter Rufai to cater for the burial of the late star. Was that not a show of care? Did Pastor West send a message of gratitude to the State Government?

Are our sports men and women the only citizens contributing to the development of Nigeria?This Preacher of the Gospel should think before speaking out because of the religious position he occupies today. He is now a religious role model that represents Christianity at all times.

Many members of his Church will often want to seek his spiritual intervention in critical matters. I guess he should be able to teach them to appreciate little mercies and breakthroughs from God.

It is sheer Grace of God that they made it to the top eleven. They are, of course not the best legs in the country. It is good for one's country to show appreciation to men and women who did the country proud in world events, not just in sports.

Many Nigerians, including me are not happy with our political leaders' governance style but it is not enough to deny the country. God in His infinite Mercy has planted us here to make our individual contributions to building this great country called Nigeria.

Starting from 1980, from my reckoning, Nigerian governments have stepped out to appreciate our sports men and women who had won laurels. That does not include their salaries and allowances most times paid in dollars.

In 1980, the Green Eagles, as they were then called, lifted the African Cup of Nations. They were compensated by the then President Shehu Shagari government financially and materially. Some state governments and individuals lined up to gift them more money and other items.

That has continued till date depending on who is in power and the style of generosity he wishes to adopt.

Recently, the Super Falcons and D'Tigress won gold medals in their various championships., The President, Bola Ahmed Tinubu promised them thousands of dollars, houses and awards for every member of the two teams. Some states followed suit.

As usual, this does not include their salaries and bonuses throughout the competitions. As much as we may sometimes frown at the government, we cannot also afford to put things in proper perspective.

Pastor Taribo West must come to the realization that there are men and women contributing quite enormously in the service of the country than our sports men and women. These group of Nigerians are hardly honoured or appreciated. They are rather treated shabbily, disdained, impoverished and most of them die wretched while their families suffer.

The Nigerian teachers are a typical example of the worst paid in the country, despite the great service this sector offers in nation building. No headmaster/headmistress, principal or Professor in any Nigerian school and institution can buy a car with his or her one year salary. These men and women in our classrooms, whether in elementary, secondary or tertiary levels are treated with ignominy and abandonment.

Teachers are builders. They are trainers. We all passed through the hands and tutelage of teachers at one point or the other to arrive at the enviable positions we occupy today. But quite unfortunate and disappointing in Nigeria, we treat that profession with total inconsequentiality. We abandon our groomers and cause them to die in penury.

As I write, there are soldiers who have not seen the comfort of their homes for six months running. They are in the battlefield with insurgents and terrorists to keep Nigeria moving. Some get killed and maimed for life. How much is their salary and allowance?

It is the same with our Police, and other security agencies. They are out in the cold and hot weather because of you and I. They are there so we can sleep soundly yet, these men are never paid or compensated handsomely. But in this same country members of the National Assembly smile home monthly with millions.

Some of these security personnel get killed or maimed in active service. They are never remembered. Their families are forever forgotten and in some occasions denied of their bread winner's financial benefits.

Some days ago, my Comrade and friend, Omoyele Sowore led a group of retired police officers to Louis Edet House, in Abuja, to press for the payment of retired Police officers' entitlements. Are these not Nigerians who served the country meritoriously? They put in their blood, risked their lives, denied their families comfort for years in the service of their fatherland. But here they were starved of the little funds that is their rights. How do they continue their lives outside service?

Let us approach any Nigerian soldier or police officer to tell you his salary, allowance and welfare package. You will shed tears. Men and women who are in the battlefield, their monthly package is not compared to even a state legislative aide. It is not the country but our leadership that has refused to organize the country to favour all.

Pastor West should be grateful that he and his colleagues were paid beautifully during their days. Our medical doctors, nurses and other medical staff are not well paid. The Nigerian Medical Association and Nurses are always at loggerheads with the government for not fulfilling payment agreements reached. Taribo can go and verify from the doctors or nurses. It is woes, complaints and disappointments from these groups. For sure, you cannot compare the service of medical personnel to that of sports men and women.

These are people who daily risk their lives in saving others. The case of Dr. Stella Adedavoh, the woman who died to save millions of Nigerians from dying of Ebola. What did she or her family get from government? Where was Pastor Taribo West?

Nigerian sports men and women have been recognized and paid better than most professions in Nigeria. Yet, they are not the only group working for the greatness of the country. They should also come together to be of help to their sick members and families in need and not always expect government to be their cash cow.

There are Nigerians in the forefront for building a peaceful, united and prosperous country. Some are in public service and others in the private sector. Late Chief Gani Fawehinmi, Dr. Beko Ransome-Kuti, Chima Ubani and others worked so hard in their private capacities for a better society. How were they compensated?

There are those alive contributing immensely for a better Nigeria. They are not recognized but rather hauled abuses, arrested and detained.

The other day I passed through a road, and I saw fellow citizens manually digging the gutters and drainages so water can flow freely. How much are they going to be paid? When they fall ill, who will care for their medical expenses?

All the traders especially our women who are on our roads all day and night to ensure the availability of commodities in markets are also in service of fatherland, working for the peace and progress of one Nigeria. Pastor West should not be under the illusion that he and his colleagues alone tapping the round leather deserve the greatest honour and accolades. Others deserve such too.
After all, we are all Nigerians.

14/09/2025

The Southerner
The LYNX EYE
Monday, September 8, 2025

Why does FG play deaf to ASUU and others?

By Taiwo Adisa

A back-and-forth ensued between the Academic Staff Union of Universities (ASUU) and the Minister of Education, Dr. Tunji Alausa, in the last days of August 2025. Alausa was to fire the first salvo when he dismissed ASUU’s persistent claim that the Federal Government had breached the agreement it had with the union.

While speaking to journalists in Abuja, Alausa said that what the government had with the union were mere proposals. “The documents ASUU has been referring to as agreements were just proposals that were never signed,” he had stated on Thursday, August 28.

Almost immediately, ASUU President, Prof. Chris Piwuna replied to the minister, accusing the government of lacking a proper culture of record-keeping.

He stated that ASUU’s demands go beyond allowances, adding that the union had often pushed for improved salaries, better conditions of service, enhanced university autonomy, and comprehensive reforms in the education sector, among others. He also questioned the continuity between successive administrations in the ministry.

Less than 24 hours after the initial declaration, which prompted ASUU to start preparing for the ‘mother of all strikes’, the Minister of Education realised his mistake and retracted his earlier position.

In a statement titled: “Clarification on Minister’s Statement Regarding FGN-ASUU Agreements,” which was signed by the Ministry’s Director of Press and Public Relations, Boriowo Folasade, Alausa acknowledged that the 2009 agreement between the Federal Government and ASUU was an officially signed pact.

He added that efforts to review the agreement, including the Nimi Briggs Committee, which produced a draft agreement in 2021, and the Yayale Ahmed Committee set up by the Bola Tinubu administration, have not produced a conclusive agreement.

The statement read in part: “When the Honourable Minister stated that there had been ‘no new signed agreement’ with ASUU, he was referring specifically to the 2021 draft Nimi Briggs document, which has not been formally executed. The Ministry, therefore, reaffirms that the 2009 FGN-ASUU Agreement remains the last formally signed agreement. The 2021 draft serves only as the latest framework for discussions.”

The minister, however, proceeded to institute a technical committee to perfect issues between ASUU and the government, while assuring that the government was determined to resolve the 16-year-old impasse with ASUU through what he called “sustainable and constitutionally backed measures.”

Though in one breath, an ASUU member had described the minister’s decision as “keeping them taking syndrome,” the development has, however, provided the much-needed breather that could enable the Tinubu government to keep its desire to avoid strikes by the university teachers during its tenure.

That desire is what many would call an uphill task. Not because it is not doable, but especially because no government has attained that feat since the Ibrahim Babangida days in 1992. I was able to write my final exams when ASUU struck, driving students into a prolonged strike that changed the course of many.

Since that historic strike, every successive administration has had one problem or the other with ASUU, academic unions of other institutions, and the non-academics as well. The Umaru Yar’Adua/Goodluck Jonathan government in 2009 believed it had struck gold when it signed off on the landmark 2009 agreement with ASUU, but the implementation of that agreement has been an issue ever since.

So, when the Minister of Education first announced that there was no agreement between the Federal Government and ASUU, he could be pardoned because many waters have passed under the bridge. But one would have to ask, why does the Federal Government perpetually play deaf to ASUU’s demands?

Why is it so difficult for the government to implement agreements freely entered into with the university teachers? The answers to those questions and every other one that revolves around the FG/ASUU imbroglio are not far-fetched. I will borrow the words of Senator Enyinnaya Abaribe, the Senator representing Abia South in the red chamber, who was asked to appraise the problems with the Power Sector.

Remember, Senator Abaribe is a veteran chairman of the Senate Power Committee. He simply answered the question posed to him by saying: “For all have sinned…” his response was rooted in the biblical book of Romans 3:23, which says: “For all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.”

The Senator was simply stating that all actors in the Power sector have contributed a share or the other to the travails of that sector.

If you want to answer that question in relation to ASUU and the endless brushes with the Nigerian government, you will also come to that conclusion…for all have sinned. There is blame on both the government side and the university administrators.

There is blame to be apportioned to university lecturers as well. The university is expected to lead society with innovations and breakthroughs, not the other way round. Our university teachers imbibe the master/servant operational mode by seeing themselves as civil servants on the altar of either the state or the Federal Government.

That accounted for the disposition of some to form what they called CONUA when former Minister Chris Ngige roared against ASUU.

But a key element of the problem starts from the Nigerian system, which devalues education by allowing barely educated people to aspire to the highest office in the land. A lawyer friend, who believed he would reclaim his ‘stolen’ House of Representatives mandate in the 2003 election, gave me clear insights into the Nigerian situation.

The man had filed the WAEC result of his opponent, which, of course, was ‘F9 parallel’, as part of the evidence to convince the court that the man declared as the winner by the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) was unfit to represent the people.

He was, however, shocked to the bone marrow when the Tribunal and the Court of Appeal returned the verdict that what the constitution requires is evidence of attendance at secondary school. Which means that an ordinary school testimonial is enough to qualify a candidate for any of the elective offices in the land, including the House of Assembly, the governorship seat, the House of Representatives, the Senate seat, and the seat of the president of Nigeria. With that as the foundation, the elected officers are tempted to go about with the notion ‘who education ep’.

The above is further assisted by the attitude of the intellectuals themselves when appointed to positions of power and the nature of their relationship with men in power. Rather than lead the way with their intellect and knowledge, intellectuals get into public offices with inferiority complexes that portray them as “nothing special” before the politicians.

Rather than tell the truth and exit a public office if they are disrespected, the intellectual twists and turns just to belong to the “right side of power.” I have a classical example that illustrates this scenario.

The governor of a state had invited a committee of experts to join his commissioner and other government officials to resolve a knotty issue. The commissioner in charge of the sector, being an experienced professional was expected to lead discussions.

But in one technical session, the governor just dropped an idea he had read online about the subject matter and needed further insights.

Our commissioner friend replied, ‘Your Excellency is right. ’ The confused governor turned to one of the technical committee members for input, and the expert, from a federal institution, ended up tearing the governor’s idea to shreds.

A further confused governor reverted to his commissioner, and our friend dropped the clincher: “Actually, Your Excellency is right, he is also right!”

The meeting burst into endless laughter. Of course, we all know that two opposing views cannot be right at the same time, but that is the typical behaviour of an intellectual in power. So, if you go into public office and refuse to show the executive office holder that academics have the special touch to lead the way, how do you expect the office holder to treat you specially?

I think that is the difference between the way politicians see judges and university lecturers. We all saw the way the Tinubu government handled the issue of the new salary structure for judges upon the assumption of office.

It is because the government knows that judges hold the power of life and death over politicians, thus the need for special treatment. A lecturer said last week that Nigerian university teachers earn the worst emoluments in the world. I agree with him.

Thirty-something years ago, we still met expatriates in the universities. Tell me, which Nigerian university can attract an expatriate lecturer into its system these days?

As a student in the Department of Communication & Language Arts, University of Ibadan, I was taught by Prof David Williams and Prof Sybil James. Both are from the Caribbean. Williams originally came to Nigeria on sabbatical to the Ahmadu Bello University (ABU) and was later snapped up by UI. He fell in love with Ibadan and Nigeria and eventually naturalised.

He married a Nigerian and died a Nigerian. On the current remuneration of university teachers, no Nigerian university can attract lecturers even from neighbouring Benin Republic and Togo.

If we have thus foreclosed the capacity of our varsities to earn their names as centres of universal knowledge, what are we really building for the future generation? Maybe we are saying that this country will have to keep playing the second or third fiddle to the already developed nations till Thy kingdom comes.

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