Lost on the Podium: An African Dialogue

By Onyenwe Oti

Mr. Okechuku (Bature} had chosen to be unknown, unsung and rarely seen preferring the reclusive and the hermitic, but one chilly harmattan morning changed all that. It took the visit of a rapacious land lord to throw Bature into a tailspin of reminiscence, musings and regrets culminating in an epic often convoluting dialogue dwelling on what was, what is and what next in the African continent where leadership is about every other thing but inspiration, vision and motivation.
Restrained by self censorship, he ruminates on issues of everyday life in many aspects of human existence in a completely dysfunctional system. Relying on rich African humour, satire and deep African adage couched in adult language, Bature tries to keep his sanity by trying to justify all that could be justified but the question continues to linger in his mind; why is Africa completely lost on the podium of honour?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Partridge Publishing Africa
• Release date: Nov 25, 2015
• ISBN: 9781482809381

Onyenwe Oti

Onyenwe oti was educated in Nigeria at the University of Lagos. His work experience spanned banking, the stock exchange, insurance and revenue consulting. The African condition presents a huge challenge to every African. What could be done to break the vicious cycle of ill-mannered governance handed down from generation to generation not minding the inexhaustible templates available for copying and pasting stereotypes or models of responsible governance? Lost on the podium is his modest contribution to the search for solutions as a guide and a peep into the often neglected areas of gross malfeasance in the polity. .

Book preview

Copyright © 2015 by Onyenwe Oti.

ISBN:      Hardcover   978-1-4828-0939-8

                Softcover     978-1-4828-0940-4

                eBook          978-1-4828-0938-1

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Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

CHAPTER 1

T he harmattan haze was severe. The whirlwind filled the eyes with sand and dust particles, the trees and vegetation swayed in obedience contributing to a whistling wonder. The birds in flight scampered for safety and balance, even the vultures at a nearby garbage dump temporarily stopped scavenging.

The whole compound was filled with dry leaves of various shapes and sizes; a compound that Mr. Bature often referred to as an unplanned urban forest. He resented bitterly the Landlord’s penchant for harvesting the fruit trees right behind his own three-bedroom bungalow.

The weather had seemed unusual especially for the very young ones who were experiencing severe harmattan for the first time in their lives. The farmers would be excited that it would lead to a bumper harvest. What does climate change have to do with the waning incidence and influence of harmattan especially in the South? Has this contributed, in any way, to the world’s near total dependence on agro-chemicals for food production? Time was when fertilizer was completely unheard of in Africa, but today even local farmers in the remotest villages cannot do without it. .

The fallow or shift system of agriculture that ensured reinvigoration of the soil is gone, overrun by all year cropping that has left the soil as malnourished as the farmers themselves. With more and more mouths to feed, Africa still relies on cutlasses and hoes to till the land, the huge budgetary allocations to agriculture in the annual budgetary ritual notwithstanding.

To Mr. Bature, curdled up in his bed, the cold weather brought back memories of the days gone by. He mused on the total collapse of the social system of accountability he was used to, the communal life of being each other’s keeper.

He could still recollect the effort of government at maintaining existing infrastructure and providing affordable housing for the people, the recruitment of Sanitary Inspectors and road menders as a way of creating employment through public works. This achieved the dual purpose of creating jobs and maintaining a healthy environment; all that is now history.

Those workers have become the ghost workers of today whose salaries end up in the pockets of uncivilized government officials. The public works department has been replaced with portfolio and political contractors everywhere; people who could collect the full face value of a contract without executing it.

Bature was in a different world when the wife came to announce the presence of the man they preferred to refer to as the oppressor.

Papa Junior, she inquired; this one you are curled up like a frightened mongrel I hope all is well. It is daybreak and he is here.

The time of day is immaterial when it is him. He is always here, let him in.

Before entering the room, the Landlord adjusted himself as if to prepare for a quarrel knowing that his visits always provoked one. By this time, Mr. Bature had equally tried to be composed enough for the meeting which he anticipated as always would end in a vexatious fracas of sorts.

‘Good morning, Sir", Mr. Bature greeted.

Good morning Tenant Bature, he answered surveying the sofas as he always did each time he entered Mr. Bature’s living room, he swayed from one seat to the other before deciding to stand for the discussion. Mr. Bature swallowed the scorn. He did not begrudge the Landlord. He is entitled to his opinion and definition of success and failure. The chairs still bore the scares of Junior’s years of toddler liberty; he is now nineteen years of age.

Don’t bother yourself; the discussion will be brief he told Mr. Bature who had wanted to offer an alternative seat.

I must thank you, Mr. Bature said, for the very fruitful meeting we had with you two weeks back where you promised among other things to peg the house rent at the current levels for some time.

Thank you very much Mr. Bature for recollecting the gentleman agreement we had in that meeting. Two weeks in the life of a man is a very long period. In two weeks anything can happen, anything including death. Having observed the moratorium for two weeks, I think it is time to put into effect the long awaited or delayed rent increase. Since your rent will expire by the end of the month, it is better to harmonize the rents payable in the estate; with effect from the end of the month therefore, your rent will be three hundred and fifty thousand naira per annum. (Naira, the Nigerian currency)

I have heard you Mr. Landlord, you have spoken well; now let me know the basis for the increase. I have tried everything humanly possible to avoid a confrontation with you on this issue of house rent but the more I try the more your provocation. What is the rational for increasing the rent to the sum of three hundred and fifty thousand Naira? This is an increase of forty per cent in one quantum leap. This house essentially is uncompleted; it is without water supply whether public or private. It has only one toilet and one bathroom, which is inadequate for a three-bedroom apartment. It has no electric meter, leaving us at the mercy of the electricity authority with their bogus estimated bills. The compound is unpaved and gets flooded every time it rained, a house visited by robbers as a matter of routine and yet they do not ever knock on your door. You have refused to mend the broken portion of the fence from where your brothers come to rob us every now and then. I would rather negotiate the rent down to two hundred thousand as against the two hundred and fifty thousand I currently pay.

Mr. tenant Bature, I will address your allegation that I send robbers to your house as a matter of routine at an auspicious time, but for now, I want you to do yourself a favor; go and ask the other tenants what happened to the tenant, Mr. Long John who lived in that flat before you

It is needless, Mr. Landlord for me to make any inquiries, I have the full details of the story of how you presented an impostor to claim to be Mr. Long John, how the impostor went ahead to plead guilty to a fake Magistrate and accept to pack out in two weeks, completely unknown to the tenant. How thugs under the false pretense of being bailiffs threw Mr. Long John’s belongings out and into the rain. That was then with Mr. Long John, this is now with Mr. Bature and I can assure you that it is not going to be that easy for you. I know my rights

Yes Mr. Bature, I agree with you; you know your right but you do not seem to be able to distinguish this right from your left. You know I have always admired your innocent foolishness. Granted that God said he would use the foolish things of this world to shame the wise, why must it be your lot? Now tell me what has changed in Africa in the third millennium? Are there no more impostors and impersonators, no more darkness after the electric authority changed its name several times, no ballot stuffing and ballot jacking during elections, no senseless killings of perceived political opponents, political and religious intolerance, no contract inflation political brigandage and lawlessness? The politicians of yore were naïve; they were using loaves of bread with a few miserable naira notes stuffed inside, rice, kerosene and salt to bribe the electorate. Now they use Ghana must go bags, (finely designed jute bags that stand tall and square when fully stuffed with currency notes or other items) ever heard of that?

Mr. Landlord you amaze me when you put on this toga of invincibility. I can always for certain say where you are coming from but where you are going I can’t fathom because you move like a snake.

Yes Mr. Bature, most of the members of the snake family have long gone extinct for lack of wisdom. There is a divine mandate to crush the head of the serpent but it is still bruising the heels of men; be wise Mr. Bature. Instead of dissipating your energy raising objections, spend that energy on some productive thinking and raise money for your house rent. Otherwise, please reserve your objections for the courts and the Magistrates.

Mr. Bature was at a loss as what to do with the Landlord; was it better to preempt him and go to court to obtain an injunction? He knew he was up against a formidable adversary with contacts in so-called high places; moreover, he did not have the resources to go to court and hang the case for as long as he wanted through series of maneuvers and manipulations that compromise and undermine the judiciary. He has the legal fees to contend with, and at the end of the day, he will still pay the rent. He decided to visit a friend and schoolmate he had not seen for years but had followed his progress in life and in business. His son was a lawyer.

Mr. Bature was in deep torment over what had become a big housing scandal. Existing settlements are demolished under an ill-defined urban renewal program, and people are displaced without any alternative accommodation arrangement bringing unbearable pressure on existing housing and untold hardship on the people. These people are forced to live sub human lives in batchers, disused containers and other contraptions for those who could afford such. Others who could not afford even the dehumanizing accommodation live in uncompleted buildings and under the bridges while more and more settlements are marked for demolition. It was in this frame of mind that he went to see his friend, Mr. Vandega.

Mr. Vandega could not control his excitement on seeing his long lost friend and shouted at the top of his voice;

Bature the white man with black parents

Bature, not to be outdone shouted in a higher pitch;"

HIV the great

Quiet descended on the expanse compound with Mr. Ogu and the other friends with Mr. Vandega not uttering a word. In his school days, Mr. Vandega was very popular as a sportsman of note, a footballer for that matter. Every student, male and female craved his acquaintance because he attended a coeducational school and this presented a peculiar problem stamping out the initials HIV when the HIV pandemic hit Africa. His names were Hyacinth Idachaba Vandega. An old pal would always bump into him with a shout of HIV. To make sure that no person repeats the acronym after an encounter with him, Mr. Vandega decided to go rough with anyone who remained incommunicado for so many years of his dropping the initials. As he recovered from the temporary paralysis occasioned by the sting, he exploded;

It is your father, your mother and your entire family that is HIV. Foolish man He thundered into his house not knowing what to do with the glass door since he could not give it a bang for effect; the screeching door sent the message home.

Mr. Bature cursed his stars and recollected Mr. Vandega’s riotous temper in his school and playing days. You could easily count the number of matches he completed without receiving a straight red card. He had lost an opportunity to reconnect with a valuable friend. The other visitors especially Mr. Ogu consoled him and advised him to wait for another opportunity.

Inside the house, Mr. Vandega was still boiling. He could not hold brief for friends who disconnect for so many years; they were no longer friends in the real sense of the word because communication and contact constitute the soul of friendship. He should have known that the initials had gone into the blacklist a long time ago.

CHAPTER 2

T he Honorable Minister was troubled on this day and summoned one of his personal staff with a query; Tell me Mr. Ministerial Aid, if I may use that term; of what use are you to me in this office? Are you a Special Assistant, Personal Assistant or Office Assistant?

By your special grace Sir any one you decide is ok by me.

Sometimes you conduct yourself like an office jester.

Yes Sir, Kings had palace jesters to massage their ego when their souls are troubled.

Now that my soul is troubled what can you do?

It depends on the type of trouble Sir!

That foolish, indolent and good for nothing girl has taken in without my permission. I need some dollars to sort her out so that the child will be an American citizen and not stay here to cause mischief and create scandals in future.

Do you still have unprotected sex Sir?

Shut up your trap, have you heard of test kits before?

Yes Sir, I forgot.

Now jester what can be done?

Sir, that Doctor you say you don’t like his face is still available.

You mean that cunning and conniving red devil who wrote a medical report that if I didn’t travel abroad for medical attention I would end up with a stroke because of blood clot; what arrant nonsense!

Sir, you needed the dollars so desperately then just like now. The man now looks like a white man not like an Albino any more. Remember he is always in an air conditioned office and moreover you are not the only one asking for these lifesaving medical reports.

Cheeky devil ask him to prepare another report but this time he should not mention kidney, liver, prostate gland, spinal cord, or brain tumor or damage. If he is in want of medical vocabulary, he could talk of occasional migraine and lumbago inconsistencies. Tell him to just write the report and leave the approval for us.

The Minister had repeatedly complained that since the Doctor wrote a report the last time that he had a blood clot when there was no such thing his blood pressure shot up and has refused to come down. He had become so scared of the possibility of a blood clot and subsequent stroke, but he still needed the Doctor’s services. Even the occasional migraine and lumbago inconsistencies whatever they meant could haunt him in the future complicating his health fears.

The Special Assistant came back to announce the presence of a gentle man who had been waiting for the Honorable Minister; Sir; the man says he was a Consultant on Youth Mobilization in your former Ministry of Youth and Culture.

What does he want now in the Ministry of Sports?

I think he will be in a better position to tell you, Honorable Minister.

Are all these people I see on CCTV (Close Circuit Television) on appointment?

Honorable Minister, some of them say they are from your political constituency and wondered why I should ask them of appointment, some say they are from the party secretariat and others say they are your relations

I have asked you this question earlier; what is your use in this office if you cannot shield me from these people whose only mission is to worry me to death? Just bring in the Consultant and I will leave the office through the back door as soon as I am done with him.

Congratulations Sir; the Consultant greeted as he was ushered into the expansive office of the Honorable Minister. Your redeployment couldn’t have come at a better time although I had expected them to post you to one of the juicy Ministries like Works or Petroleum Resources since you are an Engineer; well the next four years represent four years of bidding action: West Africa Football Union (WAFU) games, African Nations Cup, Commonwealth games, Olympic and the World cup".

What is your business with that, Mr. Consultant? the Minister queried.

Sir, I am a Sports Marketing Consultant, a FIFA registered Agent, a sports Ambassador among other sports specialties.

"Yes Mr. Sports Ambassador;