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POLITICS IS NOT WHOLLY LOCAL By Michael Bush The cliché, all politics is local, is exactly that -a cliché. All politics ...
09/09/2024

POLITICS IS NOT WHOLLY LOCAL

By Michael Bush

The cliché, all politics is local, is exactly that -a cliché. All politics is not local. Locally, nationally and internationally, there is an almost 50/50 balance to every politics. First though, what does it mean: all politics is local?

To be double sure, I embarked on a little research. Wiktionary threw up quite some: “The phrase ‘all politics is local’ is commonly used in United States politics. Variations of the phrase date back to 1932. Tip O’Neill, a former Speaker of the US House of Representatives, is most closely associated with this phrase, although he did not originate it.”

Wow! Interesting. And, there is more: “Andrew Gelman argues that the ‘local’ refers to the fact that politicians ‘need local skills to win the primary election that gets them into their safe seat, and they need backroom political skills in the state legislature to keep their safe seats every 10 years’. Gelman also argues, citing data for elections since 1968, that politics is ‘less local than it used to be’.”

That is it! Politics is not totally local. Not anymore. All politics is extraneously influenced.

Even almighty United States cries wolf every four years over international interference in its presidential election. Unfortunately, it always looks only in the direction of its known enemy, Russia. Alas, even less regarded so-called developing countries (which have been at the wrong end of US interference in own elections) may indeed directly and indirectly influence the US presidential ballot far more than Russia or China does. There is always the tendency for family or friends in the United States of America to want to compare notes with back home in Africa, for instance, and you cannot rule out that tilting the balance to favour either Democrats or Republicans when the votes are eventually counted.

Also, the politics of elections far transcends the candidate and the party. A good candidate can lose because of bad party politics, just as a bad candidate can win because of good party politics. Similarly, people within and without who have no vote in an election can have a big say in the candidate or party that wins or loses. You shall see it in November when Vice President Kamala Harris trumps former Donald Trump to the White House.

How then is even that US politics local? If political things are amenable in the USA, of all places, where else can politics be immune or safe? Here in Nigeria, we know of course that things are worse. In fact, here, all politics is not local at all.

The external influences on politics everywhere in Nigeria are insane. You do not need to hail from a particular ward to produce its councillor. You do not need to hail from a particular local government area to produce chairman of its local government. What about governor and president?

Lif dat ting (in the voice of Global Ba’aba, Dr Abel Damina)! It is what it is. Did you not hear my man in Abuja say the other day that he would sit in his ministerial office and set fire in any state the governor messes with him? Know now, if you didn’t already, there are many ways to set fire, politically speaking.

Just as there are many ways to catch a rat. What am I saying, sef? Apologies, it is getting clearer and clearer, that I miss one of my doings on live radio, Cup of Coffee. I am still Your Rambler Friend, remember!

Enough of the rambling though. Let’s get to it. Edo State of Nigeria on my mind. No savvy, but I have always had an interest or two in everything Edo -here is to you, Lilian.

I remember its various empires and kingdoms. I remember its ancient city (of Edo). I remember it as home of some of the largest earthworks in the world. I remember one of its founders and first Ogiso (king of the sky), Ogiso Igodo, who reigned long and with influence and popularity.

I remember he was succeeded by his eldest son, Ere. I remember they used to call their land Igodomigodo; not sure if they still do. But, I remember the Honourable Patrick Obahiagbon now uses that as his sobriquet. By the way, where’s he?

I remember my encounter on live radio with him during BUSH HOUSE NIGERIA Abuja heyday. What an interview, that was. I remember many great figures of Edo. I remember Ewuare II, the 40th Oba of Benin Kingdom.

I remember Erediauwa, the 39th Oba of Benin kingdom and his first wife, Esther. I remember Victor Uwaifo. I remember Chief Gabriel Igbinedion whose son, Lucky, became governor (and for eight years) in 1999. Likewise, I remember John Odigie Oyegun and Oserheimen Osunbor and Adams Oshiomhole and, like him or hate him, Godwin Obaseki -the current political kid on the block.

As well, I remember Augustus Aikhomu and Tony Anenih and Solomon Arase. I remember Yvonne Jegede and Rashida Bello and Elizabeth Ativie. The way my mind works, I remember University of Benin, I remember Okada Airlines, I remember Aigboje Aig-Imoukhuede.

For the new school, I remember Ijeoma Josephina Otabor. Stop wondering who that is, please. Learn to know people a little beyond the surface. That is your 27-year-old Phyna.

Edo State is too much, too rich, past and present. However, my dear good people of Edo, be calming down. You have so much bragging rights but, don’t you go throwing them in our faces. Or, we would be forced to remember Lawrence Anini et al.

No way! After all, which state is without black sheep; let them cast the first stone. Mine, Akwa Ibom, never points the finger. Akwaibomights are good, like that.

Back to Edo and to the present. I remember again Godwin Obaseki and Philip Shaibu. Not too long ago, both men unconsciously got this space dedicated(?) to them. The erstwhile two friends got a little penlashing the way they played their succession politics.

While one deployed what seemed a draconian style, the other came across as too ambitious and seemingly disloyal. Well, politics is like that. The bystander never knows for sure the volume of water that has passed under the bridge complete with the undercurrents. At the end of that phase, both men fought like … at the market.

Because all politics is not wholly local, even non-Benin people (as Edo people are called) across the world jumped in to have their say. Yes, things had since quieted but the vibrations and reverberations are still palpable. The world is meanwhile focused on Edo as it picks a new governor in two Saturdays. Please step forward the top three contenders: Dr Asue Ighodalo of Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) and Senator Monday Okpebholo of All Progressives Congress (APC) and Olumide Akpata, esq. of Labour party (LP).

As an outsider, and even a PDP and Tinubu man, I never gave Dr Ighodalo any chance. Probably because of the very unnecessary political scuffle between Gov. Obaseki and his deputy, Mr Shaibu. But, all that changed the last fortnight. All politics is too fluid: changes happen on a per second basis.

Why did former governor, Sen. Adams Oshiomhole, godfather of the APC governorship standard-bearer, descend so low against Gov. Obaseki and wife? I remember interviewing Comrade Adams Oshiomhole, then President of Nigeria Labour Congress, for three hours on live television in Uyo, a few years before he would run for governor, and all I want to forget now is how starkly Nigerians change once in power. I mean, Senator Oshiomhole cannot be the same Comrade Oshiomhole who terrorised President Olusegun Obasanjo, as he then was. How can a distinguished senator of a federal republic be so careless, so classless, so insensitive, so puerile, so ungodly, in speech, and publicly?

And, the Edo first Lady -Betsy- had the time to respond. She did not need to dignify those unsenatorial comedown verbals with such intimate details. Those who know knew that we heard nothing of what Sen. Oshiomhole thought he said. Mature people know never to contemplate let alone support mockery.

If there’s something Mrs. Obaseki or her husband said or did to instigate the comrade senator, it still doesn’t make it right that it is he who reacted and by mocking them. Mockery is satanic. Mockers are losers as we shall see in Edo on Saturday, the 21st. That is one.

Two, I recently mistakenly watched a video clip by Dr Asue Ighodalo, the PDP man for Edo governor. My, my, my. He sounds so like a governor. I do not want to start any war, but the man sounds really different and great and unique.

And, his pedigree makes him the man for the job. Educated in Nigeria and in London, he grew up in Ibadan with his parents who were both top civil servants. His mother was the first woman to be appointed Permanent Secretary in Nigeria in 1968. He is a partner in Banwo & Ighodalo, who are into corporate and commercial law practice in Nigeria (with offices in Abuja and Port Harcourt), founded on the 1st of February 1991.

The lawyer’s core practice areas are corporate finance, capital markets, mergers and acquisitions, banking and securities, foreign investments and divestments, energy and natural resources, privatisation and project finance. In all of these areas, Asue possesses diverse transaction and regulatory experience. His firm is regarded not only as one of the leading corporate and commercial law firms in Nigeria but also as the leading law firm in capital markets as well as in mergers and acquisitions.

For this writer, the best part of Dr Ighodalo’s citation is the fact that he was born in Anua, about five minutes from Government House, Uyo, Akwa Ibom state. That was on the 19th day of July in the year of our Lord 1959. He truly has everything not only to win on the 21st but also to build on the foundation that Gov. Obaseki has built on. God bless Edo state of Nigeria!WHOLLY

WATBRIDGE HOTEL AND SUITES ELEVATED STAFF SAFETY WITH EXPERT TRAINING BY NIGERIAN RED CROSS SOCIETYUyo’s premier luxury ...
09/08/2024

WATBRIDGE HOTEL AND SUITES ELEVATED STAFF SAFETY WITH EXPERT TRAINING BY NIGERIAN RED CROSS SOCIETY

Uyo’s premier luxury destination, Watbridge Hotel and Suites, has once again demonstrated its commitment to excellence by investing in the safety and well-being of its staff. Known for its world-class services and serene environment, Watbridge recently organized a comprehensive two-day safety training program for its team members.

The training, facilitated by the esteemed Nigerian Red Cross Society, focused on disaster management and emergency preparedness, equipping staff with the necessary skills to handle unforeseen incidents effectively. This initiative underscores Watbridge's dedication to maintaining the highest standards of safety and service, ensuring that guests continue to enjoy a secure and exceptional hospitality experience.

With this proactive approach, Watbridge Hotel and Suites not only reinforces its reputation for class and standard but also affirms its role as a leader in the hospitality industry in Uyo. The hotel remains committed to creating a safe, luxurious, and memorable experience for all its guests.

God, I trust in you!!!
06/08/2024

God, I trust in you!!!

I have a highly sharpened instinct for survival, refined by thousands of interactions within my environment, complete wi...
21/03/2024

I have a highly sharpened instinct for survival, refined by thousands of interactions within my environment, complete with irresistible boyhood fascination.

In my early days in the University, I had some degree of influence on anyone who came around me. Whether you came as my senior or junior or stranger, you were bound to encounter my widely acclaimed disciplinary character as a leader in different faces of Students Union, and in my Church. These were attributes I never thought could be soiled or trampled by anyone, ‘never’ so I thought until one fateful Friday evening.

There was this cult clash that greeted my street that fateful evening, and brought everyone to a standstill. It became more deadly when they madly harassed a member of their rival gang who refused to cooperate by not giving them his phone.

“The rate of ill-chanting and carping became severe. This rented the air and increased the wave of violence.

One of them stabbed one of their rivals on his shoulder and struggled to repeat same on his nape but was halted by one of his gang members. The victim struggled out from their midst with a thunderous sound. He rushed into the bush, nearby, bleeding profusely.

Nobody knew how the victim's members were linked up to the event ! Not long after, troops of well-armed men in black were approaching them with their own ill chanting and carping. All of them had a touch of yellow on their outfit with different sizes of weapons. At this point, they knew no friend anymore. They took over the road and mounted squads, stopping every vehicle that came along the road. Afterwards, gunshots were heard from a distance - they were fully ready to engage in a face-off!”

It was the kingpin of each gang that met first in front, ranted to each other in deep displeasure. It was when the two leaders began to push themselves and exchange blows that other members engaged in a deadly war which turned the area into a death zone for about an hour. I watched it live at the last floor of my apartment, sneakingly though.

One of the groups lost one of their members who was in front to take the bullets. The bullets didn't pe*****te him until when a member of the rival gang removed his talisman from his waist. He died a day after their confrontation.”

No one knew how the information got to the police; they came about thirty minutes after their face-off. The police rounded up some of them.

A day after, the police came back, arrested people in the street at random, I was involved, innocently. I was taken to the police station, without any prove of my guilt; yet I followed them, hoping to be rescued immediately.

I was thrown behind bars. There I met some senior mates who in turn asked what brought me to cell. I never wanted to reply any of them. I was rather overpowered by ceaseless agonising thoughts.

To me, prestige and self-respect were paramount - the character I was displaying in the cell. I never knew all of that did not matter in cell - a personality-defied room, kitted with all manner of filthiness.

The cell President, who claimed the cell to be his apartment, ordered for a special treat on me, to awaken my morale to comply well. I was beaten in-turns by six mates and the last slap sparked phosphene in my eyes. It was after that mischievous treatment that I began to cooperate relentlessly with them. I couldn't sleep that night. It was like hell; I sat in-between criminals, gazing into the dark and foul-smelling room.

Stories were already gaining weight within and beyond, the following day, a call came from one the commanding heights of the police force...

Culled from: BURIED SECRETS

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