Nigerian Education: As Things Fall Apart...

It has been about two weeks now since the Joint Admissions and Matriculations Board reduced the UTME cutoff score for University admission to 180. To put it mildly at best, that is disheartening.

It is sad that JAMB has chosen to institutionalize mediocrity at such a time as this, rather than hold on to a semblance of educational excellence by maintaining the average score of 200.

Time and time again, the correlation between the quality of a country's educational system and the quality of life of her citizenry has been proven. It is even safe to say that we will not experience widespread growth as a nation - until we pay more attention to Education.

At this juncture, the onus lies on the Government to think hard and re-prioritize. It is not enough to clamour for an increased budgetary allocation to Education; the whole system needs a overhaul. Measures must be put in place to check the activities of School Principals and Administrators who do personal work on government time. Teachers who would discuss Nollywood films in their Staff Rooms rather than teach must be found, and punished; those who encourage cheating must be dismissed outrightly. Local Inspectors of Education must be made to take their work more seriously!

The truth remains that Private Schools still require some form of 'public' (Government) supervision. A lot of private schools who charge exorbitantly are understaffed and ill-equipped. Some form of rating Private Schools akin to Hotel ratings needs to be developed and made publicly available. Parents who can afford to pay these fees should be helped to make informed decisions - and get their money's worth.

Lastly, it all rises and falls on the family. Parents must help their children to see the value of qualitative education. They must teach them not to 'facebook' when they should be listening in class. They must evaluate their children's performance, independent of the teachers. They must reward excellence, and kick against mediocrity.

Seeing as children who are not properly taught end up selling their father's houses (Yoruba Proverb) - a qualitative educational system is better insurance for the future than the best managed Sovereign National Fund.

An article is enough for the wise.

Does Nigeria Really Need The NDLEA?

The NDLEA does a GREAT job, no doubt about that... However, I have some questions - one question, really...

On my way from Ife to Ibadan, I got stopped by NDLEA officers who conducted a superficial search of the vehicle - presumably looking for 'drugs'...

As they conducted their search, I began to wonder what exactly is so special about drugs that Babangida had to create an agency separate from the police to enforce 'drug law'. Is it not the constitutional duty of the police to enforce ALL laws? Do we still have need of the NDLEA in this age where everyone is shouting 'smaller' government?

I'm going on a search for answers [:)], but on the interim - read about the NDLEA here (official TEST website)...

Some Advice To a Young Graduate

It has been quite a while since I was here... :(

I've been pretty busy, writing exams and all... Now, they've come and gone and I can breathe a sigh of relief and look forward to blogging with a little more consistency...

Y' know, there's this article by Mary Schmidt that is one of my all time favorites... It's an all-time classic, I guess, and I'd like to share it - who knows what someone out there might gain from it...

The following are some classic lines from the article:

"...Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded...

...Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum...

...Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end, it's only with yourself...

...Get to know your parents. You never know when they'll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings. They're your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future...

...Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth..."

What do you think? Any other advice for a young graduate?

Read the full article here.

Istoria: A Yahoo Boy And His Murano (Part Two)

I did not see him for another FOUR days. When he showed up, he was
wearing a new shirt, and Converse shoes. For him, that was unusual. He
never bought clothes, preferring instead to send the money home. I
pulled him into my room, locked the door – reopened it, and asked him
where he had been all this while.

He suddenly beamed from ear to ear, and for an instant I thought he
had won the Golden Plaza lottery. In what appeared to be the same
instant, I had the sudden fear that he had gone mad – or worse.

He told me excitedly that he had decided to move to Finetouch. I
couldn't have been more shocked than if my biro turned into a snake
and then proceeded to bite off my finger during an examination. He
said he was moving in with one of the 'babas'. They were introducing
him to an internet business, and that they wanted him to start out as
a delivery boy. I probed a little more, and then he opened up and said
they were into 'Yahoo!'

Istoria: A Yahoo Boy And His Murano

I met him on my first day as an undergraduate at the Obafemi Awolowo
University. It was a Sunday, and my parents had just dropped me off.
He walked up to me, and offered to carry my box to my room if I would
buy him dinner.

That sounded odd. I immediately assumed he was not a student. After
all, which student would offer to carry a freshman's box for dinner?
Dinner!!!

Well, I would have bought him TEN dinners to carry that box for me, so
I agreed – and helped him lift it onto his head without thinking. That
was the second thing that struck me as odd. Seeing as I had not lifted
anything on my head in years, preferring to carry loads twice rather
than stack anything on my 'delicate' neck – I took objection to that.
In a very brash manner, he asked if I wanted the box transported or
not. Of course, I wanted it transported – and really, whose business
was it if he decided to lift it with his ears? I thought no more of
the matter, and led the way to F10 Angola.

We had dinner together, and that was the beginning of a friendship
that would last ALL of two sessions. I found out he was from a 'poor'
family – his father was a carpenter and his mother – well, a full time
mother. He was the first child of seven (is that not always the case?)
and he seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. We
would often go to the Bank together: I to withdraw money my parents
sent me, he to send money to his parents.

Theatre of The Absurd V: Violence, The North and The NYSC

Set up in 1973 in an attempt at reconciling and rebuilding the country after the Civil War, the Nigerian Youth Service Corps stands today as one of the most effective unifying factors in a country split across deep ethno-religious fault lines.

As most Nigerian States tend to have a dominant ethnic group with their attendant tradition and cultural system, most graduates get their first real exposure to other ethnic groups and cultures during the one year period of compulsory Youth Service. Testimonies abound of the success of the scheme at: inculcating discipline; positioning graduates to give back to society; exposing youth to the many colourful cultures that make up the Nigerian nation; and most importantly promoting national unity and integration. Serving Corps members teach in schools, provide primary healthcare, staff offices and even voluntarily form associations in a bid to contribute to the quality of life in their host communities. By many standards, the Nigerian Youth Service Corps scheme has achieved a lot over the past few decades.

Therefore, it is disappointing that serving Corps members frequently fall victim to strife in their host communities – strife which most often arises out of the many differences in culture, religion, ethnicity and perspective they were sent there to bridge in the first place.

In the aftermath of the 2011 Presidential Elections, the past few days have seen irate youth in some parts of the North take to the streets in protest at the loss of their preferred candidate – General Muhammadu Buhari. Reportedly, the Sultan of Sokoto – widely accepted as the spiritual head of Nigerian Muslims – was pelted with sachets’ of water; mosques, churches, government buildings and INEC offices were burnt; even the residences of Vice-President Namadi Sambo and the Emir of Zazzau – among other notable Northern personalities – were also razed. Sadly, serving Corps members were not left out.

The Commissioner of Police in Bauchi State, Mr. John Abakasanga, has confirmed the death of at least four Corps members and maintains that others remain missing as of yet. Information from other Bauchi sources adds that nine other Corps members were gruesomely murdered last night. Only yesterday, 50 Corps members narrowly escaped being burnt to death in the NCCF Secretariat in Minna, Niger State. Other Corps members remain missing at the moment – unsettling parents and guardians across the nation.

A number of motives have been put forward for these protests, chief among which is that it is political in nature. I beg to disagree. From all indications, the uprisings that swept across the North – and which we may not have heard the last of – are not ENTIRELY political, ethnical, or religious in origin.

Despite the fact that people of Northern origin have ruled Nigeria for longer than any other region, the North still remains backward in many ways. Today, teeming masses in the North are: poor, hungry and semi-literate at best; do not have access to quality healthcare or free qualitative education; are held back from progress by rigid traditional institutions, and have no hope in the present or opportunity for the future. Of course, this is a single – but largely true – story of the North.

There is another North. There is the well digger who dug a well for my family thirteen years ago, yet continues to bring us onions from Sokoto every year. There is the beautiful Fulani woman with perfect skin who speaks such perfect English that I believed for most of my childhood that she grew up in Buckingham Palace. There is the Hausa family that protected my Mother and her family back in Makurdi during the pogrom leading to the civil war... Examples abound of the beauty of the North, if we choose to see beyond the more obvious strife and refuse to be caught up in the fallacy of hasty generalization.

In a country where ethnic and regional loyalties run deeper than national allegiance, the masses of the North have been underdeveloped by their regional leaders – and these protests are basically an attempt to overthrow the ‘old order’. As Salisu Suleiman explains, “the protests in northern Nigeria can be viewed as rebellion against a backward and anachronistic feudal system. Karshen Zalunci (End of Oppression) might be an apt description”. Sadly, these protests are hardly coherent – with no clear cut plans for achieving lasting change. The protesting youth have achieved nothing of value by indiscriminately turning on innocent people, particular emphasis laid on Corps members – who are in these areas for the singular purpose of serving the fatherland.

Are these the same Corps members expected to conduct Governorship elections on the 26th April – in these same areas? Are there enough security operatives to guarantee the safety of these Corps members over the next few days, and during the elections in the roughly 60,000 polling units spread across the North? Is it not safer to order their immediate return to their home States – in the greater interests of their safety? Will they not be in the right if they choose to boycott the Governorship elections next Tuesday in protest of these happenings?

Arrests must be made, and deserving punishments meted out. Urgent steps must be taken to ensure the safety and security of these Corps members – many of whom remain in these volatile areas solely because of their commitment to INEC. They are the future of this country, and that future must be preserved in good condition – by all means necessary. There is no point posting Corps members far away from their home States when their safety and security cannot be guaranteed in the new host communities.

Time and chance have conspired to grant President Jonathan a golden opportunity to assert his leadership and craft a new future for the North. May God help him to make the right choices, now and always. AMEN.

Nigeria shall arise!

A Dance With Death II: The Human Side to A Nigerian Policeman

On my way home today, I came across two men of the Nigerian Mobile Police.

They looked haggard, dressed in loosely fitting police uniforms. One glance, and you could tell those uniforms had not been washed in quite some time. It was plain that they were tired, both their guns hanging at awkward angles – seeming more a burden than an instrument of their occupation.

It was a hot afternoon, and the mass of humanity that thronged the Gbagi market did not serve to help matters. Rivulets of sweat seemed to rise from their foreheads, crisscrossing their faces and running down into their already discoloured shirts – giving them an overall appearance of discomfort.

Other ‘street users’ seemed to pay them no attention. A toddler reached out to touch one of their guns, a hawker bumped into the taller of the two men - yet neither of them made any attempts to resist the ‘invasion’ of their ‘world’. Evidently, they were too tired, and as I later found out – hungry, to care.

One of them stopped at a stall to buy some raw meat – and the seller promptly disappeared. He shrugged indifferently, and moved to the next stall. From my vantage position in the traffic jam, I could observe the meat sellers signalling themselves – and ‘disappearing’ from their stalls in rapid succession. He ground his teeth so hard; I swear I could hear it. He turned from the stalls with downcast eyes, and I could literally see the pain etched into his face. Surely, it must hurt to be treated so.

It was a particularly nasty traffic jam. A truck carrying crates of Coca Cola, Fanta and the likes had broken down at a major junction, and all traffic headed towards the airport had come to a standstill. It was impossible to move forward – or backwards. So, I turned my attention back to the policemen.

In the interval that I had taken my mind off them and back onto the road, the fellow who wanted meat had given up trying. They had moved away from the meat stalls and closer to the road, and were trying to flag down commercial bikes. Again, I found that no bikes would stop. In fact, one biker ‘miraculously’ discovered a fault in his wheel spokes right about the time the policemen stretched forth their hands to wave him down.

The frustration was evident in their faces by now. The taller fellow staggered backwards, and leaned on a parked vehicle. His colleague stared hard at the road, seeming to will a car to appear out of the black tar and convey them to their destination. After some time, he shuffled towards his companion and they exchanged a few words. While they spoke, a female meat hawker on her regular beat approached. The man who wanted the meat promptly leaned forward, obstructing her motion – giving her no choice but to sell him meat.

The transaction completed, they prepared to move. The taller one removed his beret, seemed to debate whether to stuff it in his front pocket, and then put it back on. He handed over his gun to the shorter fellow, and adjusted his belt. He then collected both guns, and the shorter fellow adjusted his own khaki trousers. I noticed immediately that their trousers were baggy, evidently not their exact sizes. They would have to stop every once in a while to adjust the belts in order to keep the trousers from becoming uncomfortable.

It was evident that they were preparing to trek the distance to wherever they were going. After all, no bike men could deny them the use of their own legs.

That was when I made my decision.

The car right in front of me moved forward, and I made use of the available space to swing out of that lane and onto the other. As there was no oncoming traffic, I completed the tight turn – braking just abreast of the policemen.

As I rolled down the passenger window next to me, I asked “which way are you going, sirs?”

(To be continued...)

Theatre of The Absurd IV : INEC Goofed!

Yesterday, I received with much disappointment the news of the initial postponement of the NASS elections till Monday 4th April.

One thing was immediately obvious - Monday would not be feasible. Trying to conduct the elections on Monday would create a logistical logjam which would make the late delivery of result sheets on Saturday look like child's play by comparison. Also, it would raise serious questions about the fairness of the process, as the ballot papers and other materials already in circulation could already be compromised by then. It was plain that most likely, a new set of materials would need to be printed - making a longer postponement necessary.

With that in view, it was not particularly surprising that the NASS elections were further postponed to the 9th April. Holding those elections tomorrow would have been a recipe for disaster.

A truth remains that Professor Jega demonstrated great courage by going on air to announce the postponement of the elections, and he must be commended for that. Lesser men confronted with the same problem could have chosen a number of less honourable ways out. Some person might have chosen to continue with the process and simply have reruns in badly hit areas, while yet another might have chosen to brazenly proceed with the declaration of pre-decided outcomes - and risk kicking off serious civil strife.

That said - it remains that the excuse that result sheets were delivered late is by no means a tenable one.

While I am no Project Manager, I have a decent understanding of the basics and I posit that any Project Manager would have identified the delivery of result sheets as a 'critical path activity', and treated it as such. A critical path activity is one which if delayed for a period of time would delay the entire project by the same amount of time. However, in the assumed absence of a certified PMP on the INEC staff, common sense dictates that allowances be made for such "failure(s) on the part of the vendor". If such allowances were made in the selection of the date, the award of the contract, and the follow up monitoring of the "vendor" - that postponement would not have been necessary.

Professor Jega was definitely not directly responsible for communicating with the vendor and monitoring the delivery of those result sheets. Most likely, someone else was directly responsible - and that someone else would have provided him with continuous feedback. Of course, the fact that he is the overall head of INEC makes him responsible for all failures - and successes - that occur on his watch, whether he was directly responsible for making them happen or not.

The failure of INEC to ensure the smooth running of the NASS elections on Saturday speaks volumes of the gross ineptitude of most State run enterprises in Nigeria. The AVERAGE civil servant in Nigeria is grossly underpaid, ill-motivated, incompetent, and lacks all understanding of the concepts of punctuality, timelines, and deadlines. It is no wonder then that an organization staffed by AVERAGE civil servants cannot manage to put together a decent election.

It is also necessary to respond to those calling for the resignation of Professor Jega. Professor Jega's resignation at this moment would be sabotage of the electoral process. His resignation will necessitate the appointment of a new person, who would need time to learn the ropes and probably adjust some of the plans - rendering the constitutional handover date of May 29 impossible.

Professor Jega has done a good thing by taking responsibility and an even wiser thing by further postponing the elections till next Saturday - but he has failed horribly. Yet, he has a chance to redeem his image by ensuring that free and fair elections hold on the new dates.

Finally, I submit this quote by Plutarch for your consideration - "to criticize is easy, to do better may be difficult".

Peace.

PS:
(Please go through my archive for earlier incarnations of my Theatre of the Absurd series).

Nigerian Christendom: A Misguided Sense of Neutrality

About a year ago, I wrote the following post out of mild annoyance at the perceived apathy of the church towards happenings in the Nigerian polity. I would love to take a trip down ‘memory lane’, even as I work on a new incarnation of this post.

Ehm, obviously, my writing has improved a lot between then and now. I feel I should allow it flow the way I conveyed it back then, so I have chosen not to edit it and correct the mistakes I have noticed in the original post...

Enjoy: Nigerian Christendom, A Misguided Sense of Neutrality

A Love Rekindled

I wish I could start this by saying that I just finished reading the pre-release copy of ‘A Love Rekindled’ – Myne Whitman’s new book – and then go on to write a beautiful review. However, I cannot – so I’ll just have to make an assertion based on my journey into the depths of ‘A Heart to Mend’ and trust the judgement of Lara Daniels and Folake Taylor – while I eagerly await my own copy of ‘A Love Rekindled’.

While I am no student of English Literature, after studying well over five hundred fictional accounts by a wide variety of authors over the past ten or so years – I feel qualified to declare that ‘A Heart to Mend’ is a book like no other in the ‘Romance’ genre.

I read it only a few days after listening to Chimamanda speak about ‘The Danger of A Single Story’ (TED) and it was refreshing to come across one more book that tells the story of Nigeria and Nigerians from a somewhat holistic perspective. Another really impressive thing about ‘A Heart to Mend’ was the simplicity with which its message was conveyed. I am not one for stock market jargon, but it was unusually easy to follow the parts of the book that pertain to the Stock Exchange. AND, did I mention that I finally visited the Silverbird Galleria for the first time after reading it?

With such a wonderful experience tucked away from reading ‘A Heart to Mend’, I daresay that ‘A Love Rekindled’ IS by all means the book for THIS SEASON!

Authors like Myne Whitman make me proud to be Nigerian, and even more proud of what Nigerians can achieve when we set out to achieve excellence in any field.

I need us to show support for one of our own, and to appreciate an author who has defied many odds to pass her message across... You can find out more on the weeklong event culminating in the book-launch and the month-long book premiere here.

Peace.

PS:

Even if you are no book collector, books like ‘A Heart to Mend’ and predictably ‘A Love Rekindled’ bring a refreshing new perspective to life – while exploring themes that are universal in their outlook (premarital sex, mobility across different social classes etc), so PLEASE buy the book o!!! Do not borrow from someone else... Get your copy NOW!!!

J