Microsoft Word - Thoughts On Lagos Life

Thoughts

on

Lagos Life

Kingsley Omose

Contents

1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15.

Forward Dedication Introduction – Orile is Hell Lagos: A City Waiting to Implode What Can I Do A Tour of Hell My Life The Implosion of Lagos has Began Minimizing the Cookie Monster in our Political Class A Primitive Concept of Life I Have a Nightmare Eureka – I Have Found It Temples of Worship in Lagos Are We All Victims? The Frustration Gap

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Forward I have always thought how best to articulate our humanity and our poverty. Deep in me I have always felt that rejoicing in personal prosperity in the midst of collective abject poverty is essentially illusory living. Kingsley Omose has articulated well the thoughts, fear and the pain of many of us by writing this book. Let us start by asking what is poverty? Some have said, “Poverty is hunger; Poverty is lack of shelter; Poverty is being sick and not being able to see a doctor. That Poverty is not having access to good schools; Poverty is not having a job; Poverty is fear for the future; Poverty is losing a child to illness brought about by unclean water. That Poverty is powerlessness, lack of representation and freedom”. Orile is one of the thousands of squalor blighting the face of Africa and the world. George Henderson in 1971 once wrote a personal account of an anonymous woman who wrote an essay on “Living in Poverty” She wrote: “You ask me what poverty is? Listen to me. Here I am, dirty, smelly and with no proper underwear on and with the stench of my rotting teeth near you. I will tell you. Listen to me with out pity. I cannot use pity. Listen with understanding. Put yourself in my dirty, worn out ill-fitting shoes and hear me. The woman wrote, “Poverty is getting up every morning from a dirt and illness – stained mattress. Poverty is living in a smell that never leaves. Poverty is being tired. Poverty is an seed that drops on pride, until all pride is worn away. Poverty is a chisel that chips on honor until honor is worn away. Some of you say that you would do something about the situation, and may be you would. For the first week or the first month, but poverty alleviation requires years of genuine commitment by kind hearted individuals, benevolent philanthropists, considerate private sector, and responsible public sector. The cry of the poor is still. Listen to me, listen to me without pity and listen to me with understanding”. This is what Kingsley Omose is communicating again. Let us all rise, let us rise up with anger in our hearts, anger to fight poverty by all means possible.

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Sufficient anger and compassion that will make us do something. Have a soul stirring time as you read this book. Paul SeyiOgedengbe African Continental Coordinator Congress WBN

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Dedication This book is dedicated to those Lagosians whose bone marrows ooze poverty and who reside in slums that are not fit even for hogs. They are daily exposed to the opulence and excesses of the rich and their political overlords, and yet their hope for a better tomorrow remains unshaken. They die from treatable ailments and preventable diseases and still they daily thank God for the opportunity of seeing a new day. They are wearied by the daily struggle to survive and make ends meet, yet they face each new day with a steely resolve and determination. They know it will take divine intervention to be lifted from the dung hill to the palace, yet their faith remains steadfast. They are entitled to behave like animals and act lawlessly, but yet are largely restrained and law abiding. They watch their children turn wayward before their very eyes, and yet they continue to procreate, believing the next child will turn out better. These are the true Lagosians, who have through their pains and suffering earned my admiration and respect. May your heavy burdens and yokes be lifted in our life time, Amen

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Introduction "Orile is hell" Would you like to go with me Down to hell Would you like to come with me To Orile See the people hang out in front of their pig pens Frightened of the nightly ritual of sleeping in Overcrowded abodes Young boys and girls roam about aimlessly Broken dreams and aspirations are everywhere It's a bloody place Death plagues the community Unless a miracle happens Barely clad children play on the streets Stomachs extended and legs like broom sticks Politicians laugh and drinkdrunk to all demands Families barely able to feed Starvation roams the streets Babies die before they're born Infected by the grief Now some folks say that we should be Glad for tomorrow will be better than today, tell me would you be happy in hell Would you be happy in Orile

Adapted from Steven Wonder’s lyrics in “Village Ghetto Land”

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Few people have the imagination for reality – von Goethe Lagos: A City Waiting to Implode It is said that, 72.5% of Lagosians live in one room apartment, with 810 per room, while only 4 million Lagosians have access to pipeborne water.1 Add 2, 600 unplanned communities and over 100 slums, power demand of 2000MW but actual supply of 500MW and it gets worse.2 Then consider the high vehicular density, flooding, inadequate and decaying infrastructure, menace of area boys, and it is clear that Lagos is primed for an implosion. When you recall that the average “face me I face you” tenements in Lagos has over 10 rooms and with one toilet and bathroom, how are people coping? With 80 people residing in such a house, the go slow starts unusually early with the mad rush to use the toilet and bathroom. God help you if you are pressed and the queue to use the toilet is unusually long. So how many Lagosians walk around with unemptied bowels for weeks? No wonder the air around Lagos is so foul. How many Lagosians leave their homes in the morning without the luxury of washing off yesterday’s filth from their bodies? With all rooms converted to meet the ever increasing demands of rental, most of these buildings have no kitchens. The end result is that the passage ways are littered with kerosene stoves resulting in smoked filled rooms and various cooking smells guaranteed to suppress your hunger. With the night spent having no electricity, people sweating and slapping themselves in vain attempts to kill Kamikaze like mosquitoes, hardly any one sleeps a wink.

Leaving home unusually early, having not slept well, with no opportunity to use the toilet or bathroom, the mad race begins to make it across to work.

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Of course the distance between home and workplace is like traveling across the wilderness from Egypt to Canaan, only in this case work is no Promise Land. Many Lagosians have to use a minimum of 3 to 5 bus rides just to make it across to work, with one or two Okada rides thrown in between. For those who have cars, it is a two to three hours drive just to make it to the office. But even these ones are fortunate, as the condition of the public buses are atrocious. Squeezed in like sardines in a tin, every conceivable space in the bus is utilized for carrying passengers. The mix of passengers include preachers, pick pockets, ‘staff’, robbers, free riders, lapped passengers, workers, traders, etc. Add the smell from unwashed bodies, bowels packed full of stuff, emitting the occasional gas due to pressure build up, the aggression of the driver and conductor, O la la. Some of the roads have potholes the size of craters, and handling more traffic than they were ever designed for. Throw in the police check points and the usual harassments from the hawkers, area boys, touts, council officials, beggars, and now BRT, the rest as they say is history. Work for most of these Lagosians becomes the ideal environment for sleep, using the toilet, eating and preparing for the crazy journey back home. Battered by living conditions, assailed by health issues, threatened by the fear of the unknown, the death rate in Lagos is staggering. Take a trip to government and private hospitals in Lagos and ask to see their daily death registers. Call at the various cemeteries in Lagos and inquire on the number of burials conducted on a daily basis. Do not talk of those who can’t afford the cost of burials and dispose of corpses through ways too shocking to describe. Stay at the Toll Gate on the outskirts of Lagos and count the number of vehicles carrying corpses out of Lagos on a daily basis. Most of them came with hopes and expectations, but have been overwhelmed by the challenges of Lagos.

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But cross over to the traffic coming into Lagos from across Nigeria, and more and more people are pouring into Lagos in pursuit of their dreams. These are the drivers, gatemen, house helps, cooks, stewards, nannies, clerks, typists, messengers, gardeners, mechanics, plumbers, carpenters that we encounter daily. They also include the touts, dockworkers, policemen and women, security guards, market men and women, hawkers, job seekers and the sundry others that live in Lagos. What schools do their children attend? What health care facilities are available to them? What do they eat with the pittance they earn? How are they able to clothe themselves? How does it feel to live 810 in a room and then go across town to work in a big house where even dogs have rooms to themselves? How does it feel to drink well water and while at work use pipe borne water and hose to wash oga and madam’s cars? How does it feel to know of a neighbor who died from typhoid fever and know that your boss has just gone abroad for medical check up? How does it feel to know that your child is attending a public school that is like s poultry, and with frustrated and ill-equipped teachers? Yet you daily ferry you bosses children to and from a private school where the fees for one term is enough to train your child to university level. No wonder our churches are full and busting at the seams, with people believing God for one miracle or the other. No wonder at the slightest provocation, people resort to fist cuts and murders and abuse of children and spouses are common. No wonder all the honking, quarrelling, and why Lagosians always seem to be shouting even when they are discussing. No wonder the alcohol consumption rate in Lagos is so high and why substance abuse is common across Lagos. No wonder the consumption of Lexotan and other sleeping pills is so high in Lagos so that people can sleep like the dead. No wonder.

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Let everyone sweep in front of his own door, and the whole world will be clean - von Goethe What Can I Do? As expected, Lagos: A City Waiting to implode, attracted many varied and interesting responses. Majority of those who responded were shocked by the graphic description of life in Lagos especially for the ordinary Lagosian. Many also expressed their helplessness at the state of affairs in Lagos, wondering how the myriad issues in Lagos could be addressed. They were clearly frustrated fearing that their individual efforts would clearly not address these issues, fearing for the future of Lagos. Although one or two admitted already knowing of the existing state of affairs, some promptly threw the ball in my court to go beyond highlighting the problems. They wanted solutions preferred to the problems and this too is justified because the images of an imploding Lagos are not at all palatable. In all, the responses clearly showed that people were deeply worried about the plight of their fellow men and for the need to take urgent action. The unresolved issues however remained who was the appropriate party to respond, i.e. between government and the people, and what responses would be adequate. On a lighter note, the images thrown up in my mind even while penning that write up have had an immediate impact on my daily life. Before now, I had the habit of referring to any bizarre behavior on the part of another motorist while driving on the streets of Lagos as the action of a mad man. Now I simply wonder whether that particular driver is not acting that way due to situational pressures from home. When I saw people quarreling or fighting on the streets of Lagos, I used to wonder about those who leave home and display unruly behavior in public.

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Now I know that such people may be just letting off steam and are looking for avenues to transfer their situational frustrations to others. Instead of the usual harassment of those reporting late to the office, I am now more understanding, preferring to inquire whether there is any problem. By and large, it has made me more aware of my environment, and also more appreciative of the things that I normally take for granted that are luxuries to many. The fact for instance that I ordinarily complain that the modest accommodation that my family has occupied for quite a while has become too small. But imagining a situation where some Lagosians live eight people in a room as opposed to my present accommodation has made me to stop complaining. I believe that I can do with a bigger car, seeing that in our environment the size of the car that you drive has direct bearing on your social status. But now I am quite happy that I even have a car as nothing will make me trade it for the agonies of using the public transport system in Lagos. For me, the loo is a good place for thinking, reading and planning but, I can’t enjoy that privacy if 60 other people are waiting under pressure to use that same facility in the morning. In my home, I have become a campaigner against wasting of pipe borne water, not turning off the lights even when its day time, and other similar wasteful acts. But on a more serious note, there are always things that we can do as individuals about Lagos on the principle that it is better to start where you are and with what you have. To be effective in this regard, we have to individually shift focus from our Circles of Concern to our Circles of Influence. Action is always undertaken within a defined context and in a specific environment, and there is no one who does not operate within a Circle of Influence. Properly explained, it means that while I cannot do much about how other people drive, I certainly have control over how I drive. So, I am concerned about how people drive in Lagos, but I have influence over how I drive and by extension how the vehicle I am in at any given time is being driven. For some of us, our Circles of Influence are varied and wide because we operate and

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interact are many levels such as family, work, social, educational, religion etc. Bottom Line: There are an awful lot of ordinary Lagosians in our Circles of Influence and how we interact with them matters a great deal. What are our individual rules of engagement with those in our Circles of Influence? Do we empathize with those who are around us? In our dealings with those in our Circles of Influence, do we remember to apply the Golden Rule: Doing to others as we expect them to do to us? Some may dismiss the above as being ineffective and squarely put the blame at the feet of government, insisting that only good leadership can address the problems of Lagos. They certainly have a point, as bad leadership produces bad policies and the resulting misacting or inaction has in no small way compounded the problems of Lagos. But before we forget, Lagos State is made up of people who in and multifaceted ways interact, and at levels beyond the reach of government. For instance, the Lagos State government has no say in the way I humanely treat my driver other than probably stipulating the minimum conditions for employment. Or better still; let me site an example that touches nearly all of us, i.e. the issue of house helps and how they are treated especially in Lagos. Before now, the practice of having house helps for pay was practically nonexistent, but in recent times has become the norm in Lagos. If you wanted someone to help out at home, the practice was to request your parents or family in the village to send a relative or to talk to the parents of the person to be sent. Such a person was not regarded as a house help but was treated as part of the family with the consideration being his or her education or the learning of a trade. But in Lagos today, the relationship between oga/madam on the one hand and househelp/agent on the other hand is a ‘dog eat dog’ situation. We could come up with a thousand reasons why this is so, but then again; each one of us has a choice on how to treat our house helps. Remember that it is this aggregation of individual choices and actions on the vexed issue of house helps that eventually defines the status quo.

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Changing the status quo starts by making different individual choices for instance whether we decide to treat house helps as members of the family or contract staff. Then for the individual choices we make to influence others, we need not only people who are influential themselves, but also a critical mass of people who can be influenced. Duncan J. Watts, a professor of Sociology at Columbia University in New York captures this brilliantly in his write up on “the Accidental Influential” (Businessday, p24, 9/4/07)3 The influentials are those who may be because of their own experiences or understanding, see the need for a change in the status quo and press others for change. The critical mass of those who can be influenced are those who are willing to embrace the change, who know that there is need for change but are held back by fear. There are enough negative tales being peddled on house helps and their agents enough to put any oga and madam on their guard. But few remember to add that most households in Lagos will grind to a halt or even fall apart but for the invaluable roles played by houseboys and house girls. So change starts from appreciating what you are doing wrong within your Circles of Influence, coupled with a willingness to change. Then you need to identify opportunities for change as they become known to you and actually follow through with an action that reflects you new state of thinking.

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We do not have to visit a madhouse to find disordered minds; our planet is the mental institution of the universe - von Goethe A Tour of Hell It is said that 72.5% of Lagosians live in one room apartment, (810 per room), while only 4 million Lagosians have access to pipe-borne water. Disturbed, I arranged with a friend to go on a tour of Orile-Iganmu, a densely populated slum in Lagos State to see things for myself The most disturbing aspect of the Easter Monday tour was the large number of children and young persons I came across. The overwhelming evidence was there to see, of barely clad children with extended stomachs. Of babies on the laps or backs of their mothers, or left crawling near open sewers, and of young boys playing with objects that look like balls. There were men wearing singlet who stood near by as if surveying the proof of their manhood and wondering if this was all there was to life. Then there were young boys and girls’ hanging out on the streets, seeing these were the only available space. Thousands and thousands of them with looks of resignation on their faces, knowing that their options in life were limited. There were no recreation facilities, with beer parlors providing the only means of unwinding. There were no tarred roads, more like foot paths darting between houses. There were no drainages; no proper sewer systems. There was no presence of any government health center or hospital, or a proper pharmacy for that matter. But there were patent medicine stores selling predominantly fake drugs dotting most corners.

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For those who were too poor, they could always run to the churches were miracles were on offer with prayer and fasting as the only price to pay. Self medication I was told is the order of the day. There is also resort to native herbs and local brews. Stories are told of those who died in their rooms from treatable aliments. Instances of women and young girls who deliver in their homes is predominant. The incidence of unwanted pregnancies and deliveries by young girls is rampant I was made to understand. Just seeing the posturing of the young girls, how they dressed and the way most of them spoke was enough proof that they understood the power of womanhood. It was as if I had walked right into hell on earth, yet I was in a community about 10 minutes drive from Lagos Island business district where deals are done in billions of naira. It was a sobering experience to say the least, and to imagine that over 70% of Lagosians resided in such communities was mind blowing. There is a World Bank water project that passes right by Orile piping water to other parts of Lagos. But cartels of water merchants in collusion with some water board officials have hijacked the public mains. Water pumping machines dot the few outlets where the public mains enter into OrileIganmu, and then the water is piped to overhead tanks and sold to residents. I was told that occasionally when these water board officials and the water cartels have differences, the community can be cut off and the only resort is to boreholes and wells. A possible conspiracy between petrol stations and kerosene cartels in that area ensures that kerosene is not available at most filling stations for sale to the public. So, to the cartels buyers of kerosene must go if they have to cook and eat, and provide light using kerosene lanterns, and pay triple the normal prices. What about the houses, some looking like pig pens, poultries and barns? How could human beings reside in such abodes I was left wondering?

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You could count on your fingers the number of houses that can pass a building inspector’s scrutiny. Yet the rentals were just as high as what obtains in other parts of Lagos, with landlords, caretakers and agents swelling fat from overwhelming demand for tenements. I had been trekking for about 4 hours, but I could hardly notice the passage of time or feel any exhaustion. I was told that if my tour had been during the rainy season, I would have required a hover craft to navigate through Orile-Iganmu. As I left Orile-Iganmu, my mind was still, and in that stillness I could see, hear and feel the pain, anguish, and torment of these forgotten Lagosians.

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A useless life is an early death – von Goethe My Life I am a motor car mechanic with my workshop on the roadside of a street in a middle class residential area in Lagos. Occasionally, men from the Environmental Sanitation Task Force come with their bulldozers and level the workshop, arresting me and my colleagues. At other times, council officials come by to collect levies and charges for the site where the workshop is located. In between that, there are visits from policemen at the near by police station arresting and extorting money from me and my colleagues following one complaint or the other. And of course, there are the customers who bring in their cars for repairs and the trips to the spare parts market usually to buy fake or fairly used parts. Daily as I leave home for the workshop, I do not know what lies ahead but my day is usually a mix of the good, the bad and the ugly. But leave home I must because the conditions in what I call home are guaranteed to eventually drive me insane. Home is a one room apartment in a tenement that has nineteen other rooms with one toilet and bathroom, and no kitchen. The rooms are averagely the size of shoe boxes, and occupied mostly by family men who make their earnings on a daily basis, and who dread the thought of public holidays. I have lost count of the number of legal and illegal residents in the tenement where I reside with my wife and five children and two other family relations. Don’t ask me how nine of us manage to sleep in that shoe box or of how I am able to jostle with my wife under the full glare of others.

What I know is that like the other residents in the neighborhood, we spend as much time as possible outdoors and only retire indoor to sweat out the rest of the night.

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And sweat we must as there is usually no electricity to power the ceiling fan, and with mosquitoes diving in to suck blood from anemic bodies, the nights are very long. I can stand the long nights spent pretending to sleep, while fending off daredevil mosquitoes that only grow stronger after I have used fake insecticide. I can also stand the cooking by the wives and mothers that goes on in the dimly lit alley that passes for the corridor. In fact, how these women are always able to come up with the meals they serve their families and especially when they hardly receive cooking money, is mind boggling. I can even stand sleeping in over crowed rooms; where there is no privacy and children can see or hear their parents engage in sex and everyone’s nudity is taken for granted. I can survive the daily search for water and having found it, to spend money to purchase water and then rationing it wisely among my family applying economic principles. I can endure the nagging from my wife asking when we are going to relocate from this hell hole and the look of disrespect my children give me from time to time. Complaints from my wife, that some of the other men in the tenement spy on her while she is using the bathroom or toilet have not moved me. I console myself with the fact that they can look as long as they don’t touch, but I can see the loss of respect this attitude has caused as she occasionally refuses to let me touch her. But what gets under my skin and agitates me mentally, is the fact that I cannot get to use a toilet as and when I want to. To be able to use the toilet in the house where I reside, I either have to wait until the other residents are asleep, or wake up in the wee hours of the morning. At that, I have to find something to shield my eyes and nostrils from the sight and smell coming from a facility that is shared by over a 100 residents who feed poorly. Worse I have to decide whether to add my share of discharge to the mountain already in the toilet or use scarce water to attempt to flush before doing anything. Sometimes when I decide to flush, instead of the mountain receding, it rises out of the toilet and runs after me.

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For the children, we usually ask them to go to the adjourning canal while keeping our fingers crossed that they do not fall into its foul smelling stagnant water. When I am pressed and the toilet is not available, I have to resort to using the canal, and I come across other men and women who are similarly forced to obey the call of nature. Or I can resort to the nylon bag where the shame of the canal becomes too heavy to bear, with the sight of men, women and children all lined up at the edge of the canal. I don’t know which of the two is more shameful, the sight of a grown up man defecating in a nylon bag and then sending his child to drop the waste in the canal. Or the balancing act of stooping in full view of others, with ones rear jutting over the edge of the canal while trying not to tilt, which qualifies as a the wonder of the world. To minimize the shame and humiliation, I have conditioned myself to obeying the heavy call of nature once a week and usually at night if I have to use the canal. I have also trained my family to do likewise, deluding myself that the less frequently we use the toilet, the less food we need to eat. Daily, as I go to the workshop, I try to ignore the discomfort of moving around with full bowels, and the pain from the hemorrhoids, resulting from irregular defecation. I cannot help but look at the fine buildings around my workplace, and marvel at the sizes and beauties of the houses with the posh cars parked in the driveways. Most times, I get carried away imagining my family residing in such houses where there are adequate rooms, a separate kitchen and the rooms each have their own toilets. I dream of sitting in a toilet well perfumed and spacious, with no one putting pressure on me by banging on the door to hurry up, and the time to express myself leisurely. Then I snap out of my day dream as the honking of a customer’s car wakes me rudely to reality, and resentment and anger begins to swell up in my heart. The bitterness is against any and everyone, but ultimately is about my helplessness and my inability to break the circle of poverty that has held me bond. It is about the disquality of life that I can afford to give my wife and children and in knowing that unless a miracle occurs, my children are probably doomed to a similar fate. At such moments, I even contemplate thoughts of ending my life but I am too cowardly

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to do this. Instead, the bitterness has eaten deep into my heart and left me broken in spirit, I can only pray that a sudden ailment will cut short my life and put me out of this misery.

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Man is worse than an animal when he is an animal – R. Tagore The Implosion of Lagos has Began She was an engineer, working with one of the top telecommunications firm in Lagos, and happily married with a daughter. As she left the office that evening, her thoughts were of home and the joys of being reunited with her baby daughter, but instead, it was with death that she was united. According to newspaper reports, she was hit by a metal object while in a chauffeur driven vehicle which had broken down at about 7.00 pm in Apongbon, Lagos. Between the time of the attack and her eventual evacuation to a hospital, she had lost so much blood, that the next time her husband saw her was in the morgue. The attack, which was carried out by social miscreants popularly called area boys, did not appear to have any ulterior motive other than the usual case of armed robbery. News of her brutal murder sent shock waves across the city of Lagos and especially among the professional class. The murder also generated a lot of media attention and the usual outcry that follows the occurrence of a bad event in Nigeria. Many lamented the ineffectiveness of the Police, and called on the government to address the traffic jam at Apongbon area that they believed had facilitated the attack. There was even a suggestion that motorists should avoid using Apongbon in the evenings to avoid similar attacks. But sadly the practice of attacks and robberies on occupants of vehicles across various parts of Lagos is so wide spread that this suggestion is not plausible. From Ozumba Mbadiwe road in Victoria Island heading towards Lekki Phase 1, to Osborne road, Ikoyi heading towards Third Mainland Bridge, the story is the same. On the Third Mainland Bridge itself, around the Oworonshoki axis towards the former Toll Gate reports of daily attacks are wide spread.

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Ikorodu Road from Ojota heading towards Mile 12 is notorious for robbery attacks on motorists, as well as various hot spots along the ApapaOshodi Expressway. These areas where robberies occur daily, especially during working weeks, are all prone to traffic gridlocks, thus making the occupants of vehicles sitting ducks for attacks. The situation is made worse by the fact that security presence at these dangerous spots is almost nonexistent at night. In addition, the absence of functioning street lights on the major streets of Lagos provides the additional cover for these nightly operations. One can easily surmise that the causes of these night robberies are traceable to the factors enumerated above. But I hasten to add that there is more to the issue. Generations of forgotten children who have been incubated in subhuman conditions in 2600 densely populated communities and 100 slums across Lagos have now come of age. Years of dehumanizing existence have shaped minds and conditioned young men who know only how to demand what they believe is rightly theirs through force of arms. The attackers are usually young men operating in groups, and armed with dangerous objects and weapons with which they threaten and rob their victims. With no care in the world, they sweep through the streets at night, a wide variety of cars and possible victims to choose from, as if spoilt for choice on a well stuffed banquet table. The frequencies of these attacks on the roads are going to increase not decrease, and these young men will graduate from robbing on the roads to attacking neighborhoods. The practice of tailing luxury vehicles heading into some high class estates and neighborhoods in Lagos and violently robbing them at home is already wide spread. Not too long from now, the practice of armed gangs laying sieges on entire neighborhoods and cleaning up whole streets will be the norm. The fully blown crises and lawlessness the sieges will entail is going to overwhelm the economic capital of Nigeria and will make the Niger Delta look like child’s play. What we will experience in Lagos will be some sort of urban warfare that our security operatives who are poorly trained, will not have the spirit or motivation to confront. 22

Like the Niger Delta militants retreat into the creeks after their operations, these young men will retreat into the slums and densely populated communities after their robberies. They will take no prisoners and will shot to kill at the slightest provocation, having been conditioned by years of frustration, neglect and fending for themselves. Our security operatives will be unable to fully respond because they will be out numbered and out gunned. They, i.e. the security operatives will also be unwilling to take the battles to these young men in the slums and densely populated communities. As the earth remains, seed time and harvest time will not cease, so also Lagosians will partake of the fruit of the seeds that have been sown in the last 20 to 30 years ago.

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Man is not born to solve the problems of the universe, but to find out what he has to do – von Goethe Minimizing the Cookie Monster in our Political Class The Cookie Monster Experiment was devised to test the hypothesis that power makes people stupid and insensitive or disinhibited.4 Using the CME, researchers from the University of Berkeley, California, found that getting power causes people to keenly focus on the potential reward. The researchers took groups of three volunteers and randomly put one of them in charge. Each trio had a half hour to work through a boring social survey. Then a researcher came in and left a plateful of precisely five cookies. The volunteer who had randomly been assigned the power role typically grabbed an extra cookie. The keen focus on potential rewards of getting power, like money, sex, public acclaim or an extra cookie made them oblivious to the people around them. In Nigeria, those who get or capture political power do not even need to focus on the potential rewards as it is usually served to them on a platter of gold. In order words, political power holders in Nigeria get to eat all the cookies without even allowing Nigerians much as a nibble. Nigeria remains one of the few countries in the world where revenues from its natural resources are shared monthly among the three tiers of government. For those who desire quick and obscene wealth, the legitimate and quickest means of achieving this is to get or capture political power. Stringent requirements are put in place for those seeking corporate power, especially where huge funds are involved like in banking and insurance. Not so for those who will be handing billions of Naira after getting political power as they are only required to possess secondary school certificates.

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There is hardly any who does not know of someone who yesterday was as poor as a church rat, but who was instantly transformed on getting political power. There is much evil in the present system of allocating revenue to artificial entities, which are a creation and legacy of our Khaki brothers. This evil is exacerbated by the fact that there is none, and has never been any, Nigerian who physically resides in a state or local government. Nigerians reside in communities, most of then older than the states and local governments in which they have been lumped or as it were dumped. That evil has to be confronted at some point, and answers found to questions on how best to channel resources and development to Nigerians. The challenge for now is on how we can assist the new crop of power getters or capturers from not becoming worse than cookie monsters. I am assuming that those who have been reelected, especially at the executive level, will by now be purging from excessive consumption of cookies. But for those who are getting or capturing power for the first time, these tips on how to minimize becoming a cookie monster will be of assistance. I know that most of them owe a debt of gratitude to various godfathers who ensured their successful power grab or capture, and who expect payback. I know that those who financed their exploits have to be reimbursed and get returns on their investments. I even agree that these power grabbers need to begin to build their own war chest to ensure their reelection and may themselves become godfathers. The big question is how to do all that while not becoming oblivious of Nigerians and the issues that have confronted them for generations? How do our political office holders remember in the midst of grabbing all the cookies, that Nigerians who reside in communities also need attention? I have compiled some guidelines which will help our power getters keep their feet firmly planted on the ground and at least ensure a winwin situation. Steadfast implementation of the following will generate uproar among the political class, and cause pain among those in power:

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First, by ensuring that political office holders continue to reside in their private accommodations after election or appointment. Second, by ensuring the children of political and government office holders attend only public schools. Third, by ensuring all travels by air should be on economy class tickets, while usages of government vehicles are restricted. Also ban use of sirens by government vehicles. Fourth, ensuring political and government office holders and their families patronize only public health institutions by refusing to pay bills for medicals. Fifth, contracts should be advertised and award procedures streamlined in accordance with best practices. Sixth, monitor deposit of public funds in banks to ensure monies are not being rolled over at the expense of the public purpose for which they were earmarked. Seventh, scrapping of the grandiose title of ‘First Lady’, whether at Federal, State or Local Government, Finally, monetize allowances of political and government office holders, and adopt best practices on use of consultants by government and its agencies These steps can at least ensure those with political power allow Nigerians get their share of the cookies, even if political office holder get to take an extra cookie.

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We are never deceived; we deceive ourselves – von Goethe A Primitive Concept of Life A question that has repeatedly been asked is this; at what point does the concept of life of a community, society, nation or its people change and advance for the better? Is the point of change a realization that there is need for a new concept of life to guide human affairs? Is it based on the acceptance of warnings by far sighted ones in a society who understand that the present concept of life is no longer workable? Or can it be said that by virtue of being persuaded and reasoned with, peoples or nations can change their concepts of life for the better? To Leo Tolstoy, the life of humanity changes and advances, like the life of the individual, by stages, and every stage has a concept of life appropriate to it.5 It is the same with the changes in the beliefs of peoples and of all humanity as it is with the changes of belief of individuals. He adds that: “If the father of a family continues to be guided in his conduct by his childish conceptions of life, life becomes so difficult for him that he involuntarily seeks another philosophy and readily absorbs that which is appropriate to his age”. To paraphrase a popular saying, ‘when I was a child, I behaved like a child. But when I became a man, I put away childish behavior’ The principle is that the need to change a society’s concept of life is usually brought about by the experiences of life itself. In other words, a society will abandon a concept of life which is inappropriate to its present stage of existence and invariably submit to that which is appropriate. So, change is directly related to the difficulties being experienced in a society and whether such difficulties become intolerable. The threshold of change becomes the intolerable conditions of life that threatens the very existence and wellbeing of society.

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The reason for a forced transition may not be unconnected with the fact that most nations, societies, communities and humanity itself are usually not driven by a core vision. Tolstoy identifies three broad concepts of life, i.e. the primitive concept of life, the social concept of life and what I call the neighbor concept of life. The primitive concept of life caters primarily for the interest and the need of the individual, where the guiding principle is the survival of the strongest. The social concept of life recognizes the limitations of primitive existence by putting the interest of the wider society first. The neighbor concept of life is the highest concept of life, where everyone sees the neighbor in everyone else. The underlying principle of the neighbor concept of life is in treating other people as you would want to be treated. The nations of the earth are locked into the first two concepts of life, with the undeveloped nations in the primitive, and the developed nations in the social stages. Remember the issues here in respect of concepts of life and the underlying philosophies that drive human existence. The major short coming in the primitive concept of life is in the heightened state of internal conflict within a society, as individuals pursue what is in their best interest. For the social concept of life, it is in the heightened conflict between nations, as each nation promotes only what it regards as is in its best interest. The neighbor concept of life is centered on love for God and man. This is different from the love of humanity, which is an advanced operation of the social concept of life. Where do you place a society where funds meant for the execution of public projects are tied down in bank fixed deposits while government officials get kick backs? How do you describe a society where investors rush to acquire shares of publicly quoted banks who utilize public funds meant for the people in the first place? What would you say about a society where government officials predominantly utilize public funds for their private purposes? How do you define a society where funds allocated to a tier of government that is 28

closest to the people, are diverted to other purposes? What will you call a society where the easiest means of getting news reported by the new media is to pay for it? What do you call a society where over 75% of its citizens are mired in deep poverty in spite of huge earnings from natural resources? What will you say about a society whose leaders take regular trips abroad for medical check ups and holidays, while its citizens resort to alternative sources? What if I told you that I know of a society whose leaders and elites have their own power supply, water supply, security, and whose children attend only private schools? What if I mentioned the conspiracy in a society between government officials and the professional class on the use of consultants to siphon public funds? What if I told you that I know of a society that is least interested in the wellbeing and welfare of its hen that lays golden eggs? What if I told you that there is a society where legal disputes take an eternity to be resolved and that suspects awaiting trial serve their sentences even before conviction? What if I said that there is a society where regularly, people commit killings due to land disputes, religious, cultural, and other differences? Where individuals can influence electoral votes due to meeting the basic needs of people, otherwise the responsibility of government? Where you consistently pay for public services that are seldom rendered by near comatose public utilities? Where government, corporate and powerful individuals impose half baked ideas, policies, concepts, programs, promotions etc on ordinary Nigerians? Where the ordinary Nigerian is made to carry the burdens and yokes of others and told to his face that that is a privilege and honor? Where the most profitable businesses are those operated by middle men, who add no value to anything and yet rake off all the profits? You would clearly call such a society worse than primitive, and you will be right to say

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that such a society will be characterized by high levels of internal conflicts and crises. Ladies and Gentlemen: Welcome to Nigeria, a nation in which we have felt the value of the social concept of life, but are still locked in a primitive concept of life. Nigeria is a nation that has to transit from a primitive concept of life to a social concept of life. To do otherwise is to push the self destruct button all the way. The corollary of this is that to hasten the pace of change, then things have to get progressively worse in order to get better. So what does this trend portend for Lagos and its 2600 densely populated communities and 100 slums? Your guess is as good as mine.

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8 A society without its dreamers can never be free – Yehudi Menuhin I Have a Nightmare I have a nightmare that one day some parts of Lagos will eventually be overwhelmed by flood water, and that as it was in the days of Noah so shall it be for those parts of Lagos. In those days, boats will replace cars as the popular means of transportation, only that there would still be congestion of the water ways similar to the traffic gridlocks. I have a nightmare that the sons and daughters of the privileged and those of slum dwellers in Lagos will never be able to sit on the table of brotherhood. That the gulf between private and public schools in Lagos will be so wide that those graduating from public schools will not be fit for employment. I have a nightmare that my children will live in a city where they will be judged by the part of Lagos were they resided and the schools they have attended I have a nightmare that the sons and daughters of slum dwellers will not be subservient like their parents and will seek recompense from the elites as the Niger Delta militants I have a nightmare that even the highbrow parts of Lagos will one day be fenced round and defended by armed guards to keep away armed robbers. I have a nightmare that the living conditions in Lagos slums will continue to degenerate until the children bred in them will become worse than wild animals in the jungle. That the security situation in Lagos will worsen so badly that the possession of fire arms will have to be legalized I have a nightmare that armed marauders will take over the streets of Lagos that only those who drive with armed escorts will be able to use Lagos streets. I have a nightmare that the police will only be on offer to the highest bidder as the demand for armed protection increases in Lagos I have a nightmare that the traffic situation will continue to be stressful and frustrating that it will be regarded as normal that the average Lagosians has high blood pressure.

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That the traffic gridlocks in Lagos will worsen so that driving around Lagos will not be regarded as complete until you have a camping bed in your car trunk. I have a nightmare that we will run out of burial places in Lagos that cremation will become the norm. I have a nightmare that hemorrhoids will be the commonest ailment in Lagos as more and more people go days on end without having the opportunity to use toilets frequently. I have a nightmare that Lagos will one day run out of treated water that Lagosians will have to resort to using water from the Atlantic Ocean. I have a nightmare that the creeks and lagoons in Lagos will one day disappear as land reclamation efforts intensify with the dream of many to live on the water front. I have a nightmare that like the City Bus Scheme, the Bus Rapid Transport Scheme will fail and throw the already bad traffic situation in Lagos into deeper depths of confusion. I have a nightmare that the uncontrolled development of slums and densely populated communities will continue until Lagos itself becomes one big slum. I have a nightmare that with the atrocious living conditions in slums across Lagos that one day; a devastating epidemic will sweep through Lagos. I have a nightmare that with the absence of a proper sewer system across Lagos, that one day sewage will flow freely in blocked drains and unto the streets. I have a nightmare that the industries and businesses in Lagos will relocate to other parts of Nigeria as the business environment becomes increasingly hostile. I have a nightmare that soon ships will refuse to call at all at Lagos ports, preferring to discharge their Nigerian bound cargo in the ports of neighboring countries. Likewise, international airlines will refuse to patronize the Lagos International airport as armed robbers will be waiting at the tarmac to rob passengers as they alight. Then Lagos will grind to a halt and will become like a city under siege where life is valued as much as that of a rat that deserves to be killed. Then the influx of people into Lagos by land, sea, and air will diminish until it becomes only a trickle.

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Big businesses and those offering support services will move to other parts of Nigeria that are more conducive for doing business. Then the prices of selling and renting properties will crash and the banks will flee from Lagos in droves. The rich in Lagos will first send their families overseas, and eventually relocate overseas themselves. Then those who can not relocate or flee from the siege will be stuck and will curse the day that they decided to make Lagos their abode. That priest and imams alike will stand in front of near empty worship houses frightened of the consequences of empty tills and offering bowls. Then some in the police and area boys will howl with pain at the dwindling returns from their daily street operations. Even some state and council officials will lament the exit of businesses from Lagos and wail at the implications of changes in their lifestyles from poor tax returns. Then Lagos will become a byword and a byline for what any city determined to become a respected city globally should not become. Startled by the intensity of the images that I had seen, I woke up from sleep completely drenched in my own sweat. It was only then I realized that I had been having a nightmare. But wait a minute, if it was a nightmare, why were the images in color?

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9 A correct answer is like an affectionate kiss – von Goethe Eureka – I Have Found It ‘Eureka’ shouted Archimedes, the most famous mathematician and inventor of ancient Greece, when he discovered or is it stumbled upon the ‘Archimedes Principle’. The principle which explains the physical law of buoyancy has had tremendous impact on human affairs transforming shipping, and oil and gas offshore E&P. When you realize that over 70% of global trade is by sea where would we be today but for Archimedes’ moment of eureka? The word eureka is used to express triumph on a discovery, and literally translated means “I have found it”. What if we could discover or stumble upon a principle that could transform the chaotic traffic situation in Lagos the way Archimedes Principle has transformed shipping? What if there is a eureka moment that holds the key to solving once and for all the traffic gridlocks spread across Lagos? A recent article by Olumide Olusanya, Professor of Architecture at the University of Lagos on “Easing the nightmare of Lagos traffic gridlocks” may provide some clues.6 Writing in the Guardian Newspaper of April 9, 2007, he described the traffic situation in Lagos as “a common and great source of affliction for people living in Lagos” While that is putting it mildly, Professor Olusanya queries the official view of the problem in terms of long term capital intensive projects like construction of more roads. He opines that Lagosians will have to live with chaotic traffic for many more years, which will present a nightmare scenario for many road users. Then he goes ahead to outline several proposals which he claims are the product of several years of study born out of frustration. I do agree with Professor Olusanya, that unless you fall into the class of those who

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use siren blaring escorts, the traffic situation in Lagos is hellish and frustrating. His proposals which are based on the application of basic principles of road design and require minor modifications to existing infrastructure seem too doable. No, before you jump to the wrong conclusion, his proposals have nothing to do with the BRT Scheme (Bus Rapid Transport) of the Lagos State Government. How the typical road user in Lagos will keep off an empty BRT Lane in the midst of traffic gridlock beats my imagination. Back to prof, his simple low capital high valueadded solution seeks to eliminate points of interference, which he believes are the main source of traffic congestion in Lagos. While stakeholders will readily appreciate the workability of Professor Olusanya’s proposals, they may not be acceptable for the obvious reason that they are too simple. If the traffic gridlocks in Lagos can be reduced to the barest minimum within six months to one year, and adopting a low cost approach, where would that leave LASTMA? Where would that leave the police check points that take advantage of the traffic gridlocks and the street hawkers who minister to weary motorists and passengers? Where would that leave the touts who use the traffic gridlocks as opportunities for collecting levies and charges? What would it mean for the night marauders who take advantage of traffic holdups to rob occupants of vehicles? How would street beggars and those who bring their medical problems to the streets of Lagos react to free flowing traffic? What excuses would Lagosians now proffer for arriving late at their destinations, and how would motorists now know they have mechanical problems with their cars? Who will be willing to patronize commercial motorcyclists, and what will the Okada riders do for a living? More importantly, how will all the agencies and ministries of the Lagos State government who prefer the high cost long term approach to solving the traffic gridlocks react? Assuming for purposes of this write up, both the low cost short term and the high cost long term approaches are implemented, would that solve the traffic gridlocks in 35

Lagos? Put another way, are these two options our traffic gridlocks eureka, able to accomplish for Lagos, what the Archimedes Principle has done for shipping? There is a saying in Lagos that even a single Okada rider, i.e. commercial motor cyclist can cause a hold up on an empty three lane high way. Implied in this saying is the belief that Lagos is synonymous with go slows or traffic gridlocks, and that solving it will take more that implementing the options stated above. That the go slow mentality is part of the psyche of the average Lagosian, and this is what translates into the chaotic traffic situation in the metropolis. According to this view, implementing these options is like taking malaria medication, while leaving the mosquitoes to breed in an uncontrolled manner. The ideal solution will be to eradicate or minimize mosquitoes, and on the issue we are discussing, change the psyche and attitude of Lagosians to go slows or traffic gridlocks. To properly address the malaria scrounge, one has to find out how and where mosquitoes breed and reside and then implement solutions from that perspective. To find out how the average Lagosians has ended up with a go slow mentality, we have to find out how and where they reside. At least 75% of Lagosians reside in one room apartments, with an average of 80100 in a house (810 per room), that has only one toilet and bathroom. Again, only 4 million Lagosians have access to pipeborne water, with the rest having to queue in public taps, buying water or operating wells and boreholes. When from birth, one sees people queuing every morning to use the toilet or queuing to get water to have their bath, what sort of mentality will such a person end up with? The way such people drive on the streets of Lagos shows that they are under pressure, the sort that makes a man with unwashed body and full bowels act in insane ways. Try to imagine the pressure build up in those who congregate daily on the streets of Lagos and the impact that has on driving. So what is our eureka, that so long as majority of motorists live in houses where they queue to use toilets and bathrooms, so will traffic gridlocks persist in Lagos.

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This means that traffic gridlocks are connected with the living conditions of the average Lagosian, which will eventually make nonsense of any short or long term solution. To quote Professor Olusanya, “Of all the cites on this planet with comparable population, Lagos has the most inefficient use of prime urban land. Kilometers upon kilometers of low density low valueadded development resulting in an endless sprawl that cannot be adequately serviced” What is needed according to Professor Olusanya is a systematic rebuilding of the metropolis towards high density four to six storey walkup apartments. Each flat in these apartments will have a toilet, bathroom, kitchen and pipe-borne water, whether the apartment has one or more rooms. Lagos can learn from the example of Singapore and of how a third world mosquito infested swamp with no known natural resource was transformed into a developed nation. Today, 85% of Singaporeans live in flats built by the Housing Development Board, the equivalent of the Lagos State Development and Property Authority. Through the HDB’s Home Ownership for the People Scheme, Singaporeans have an asset in their country, a means of financial security and a hedge against inflation. 7 The push for home ownership has also helped in the overall economic, social and political stability of Singapore. Compared to Lagos’s 3, 577 square kilometers and official population of 10 million, Singapore only has a land mass of 699.1 square kilometers for its 4 million citizens. Yet 3, 400, 000 Singaporeans live in their own homes, while over 9, 000, 000 Lagosians pay a substantial part of their earnings as rent with no hope of ever owning a house. The average rent for a room in Orile is N2, 000 a month, and you have not added the cost of water, kerosene, electricity, medication, feeding, education, health, or transportation, Why won’t motorists in Lagos drive like lunatics? Why won’t passengers sit quietly in public buses driven by insane drivers as if they all have a death wish? Why won’t motorists turn their vehicles into battering rams, and daredevil Okada riders daily swell the population of mortuaries and keep bone menders and hospitals busy? 37

Death proudly walks the streets of Lagos, severely challenged by its increasing difficulty in meeting the daily expectations of many who leave home, not expecting to return. But when shall we be able to sing in Lagos, Death where is your sting, Grave where is your victory?

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10 When minds are the same that which is far off will come – East African Proverb Temples of Worship in Lagos I had agreed to attend a meeting in Ikoyi on a Monday at 6.00PM, without thinking much of the traffic implications. As I drove towards Ikoyi through CMS from Apapa at about 5.00PM, I could feel the tension in the air and it was then it dawned that I had made a terrible mistake. I had committed myself to coming into the Island when millions of pilgrims who come daily to the Island to worship were heading for their homes on the Mainland. You could try cutting the tension with a knife and not make any headway. It was a tension arising from millions whose hearts and minds were set on a return journey home. Unlike the children of Israel who exited Egypt for the Promised Land with open desert before them, pilgrims who come to worship on the Island are restricted to three routes. Cater, Eko and Third Mainland bridges link the Island and the Mainland and ensure that the daily entry and exit rites of these pilgrims are harrowing experiences. On two of these pilgrimage routes are markets and bus-stops located in such a way as to add to the stress and trauma the pilgrims already face at the temples of worship. I shook my head, completely bewildered at the long queue of vehicles of all makes and configurations, fully laden with pilgrims, crawling their way back to the Mainland. Some of these pilgrims were heading back home to far flung locations that lie at the very fringes of Lagos State, and would get home very late in the night. Yet at the smell of dawn, most would be up again to begin the mad rush back to the Islands, i.e. Lagos and Victoria Island, to worship at the financial and business temples. As I sat in the car now aware that I could not make it through to the meeting venue by 6.00PM, I decided to pay attention to the madness that was going on around me. The commotion was intense as drivers used their vehicles as battling rams, to make their way through although they were all heading for the Third Mainland Bridge. To my left was a siren blaring vehicle that added to the honking, abuses and insults flying between motorists, coupled with shouts of bus conductors with blood shot eyes. 39

The commercial bus drivers were even more daring, looking for openings barely wide enough for motorcycles to squeeze through, urged on by wearied and irritated pilgrims. Hawkers were every where, ministering to the needs of pilgrims, and literally bringing their markets to the streets knowing most pilgrims would never have time for shopping. Soon it would be dark, and another set of hawkers would descend on the pilgrims as they sit in the vehicles, ministering pain and suffering as they rob with impunity. The complete darkness on the routes to and from these temples seems to be a design to make the experiences of the pilgrims more excruciating. How people could face such daily ordeals twice a day, and five days in a week was completely beyond my imagination. Did they have a choice I wondered? I was forced to concede that those who made these pilgrimages daily had chosen a slow and painful death. For some of the pilgrims it took the better part of five to six hours daily to and from the temples, and they had to be in their places of worship by 8.00AM. So, if they usually spent five hours in traffic, and another nine hours worshipping at the temples and them arrive home by 11.00PM, where were their lives? How were husbands ministering to their wives and vice versa? Who was keeping watch on the children and teaching them the way to go? The lives of those congregating that evening to perform exit rites looked to me like a man starring at an hour glass while the better part of his life slowly ebbed away. But how did we arrive at this utterly messy situation, I was let wondering? How could we continue to allow the productivity of a people to be wasted in such a manner? How were the pilgrims able to endure such experiences and yet live normal lives? I had to conclude that this was not normal but insanity. It was one big insane reality. In my search for answers as to how we had arrived at this nightmare situation, I considered the population of Lagos, the state of the roads and the number of vehicles. I also considered the ignorance of driving rules and regulations, the land size of Lagos, its economic attraction and the unplanned development of communities and slums.

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The closest I got to an answer is contained in the report of Chief Akin Mabogunje Presidential Committee for the Redevelopment of the Lagos Mega City Region.8 This was a committee set up by President Obasanjo to examine how Lagos had become an urban jungle and to prescribe solutions. The setting up of the committee followed persistent complaints from foreign investors that Lagos needed to be cleaned up in order to attract foreign investment. While it has taken the allure of foreign investments to motivate our government, one of the findings of the committee is important to this discuss. The committee found that one of the main causes of the chaos in Lagos is that it has predominantly three business districts, or what I call temples of worship. These temples are Victoria Island, Lagos Island, and Apapa. To even get to Victoria Island, most of these pilgrims have to pass through Lagos Island. Although plans had been made by successive governments over the years to develop more temples across Lagos State from three to 25 or more, nothing has been done. As a result of this inaction, these three temples have predominantly remained the financial, business and maritime hubs of Lagos State On working days of the week, millions of pilgrims arise in the wee hours of the morning coming from thousands of densely populated communities and slums across Lagos. For those heading to the temples on the Island, they must first congregate at the Carter, Eko and Third Mainland bridges respectively to perform their cleansing rites. Those heading to the temple at Apapa also mostly congregate at the Oshodi-Apapa ex Expressway to also perform their own cleansing rites. In the evenings, the movements are in the opposite directions as pilgrims perform their exit rites on the long journey back home. The first implication of having mainly three temples in Lagos is that the location of residential accommodation becomes very important. This means that the cost of land, building a house, buying a house or renting accommodation in Lagos is determined by its proximity to these temples.

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The big winners here are those who own the properties, office or residential, in the temple areas, and those saddled with the responsibilities of regulating land matter. The minor winners are those who are able to pay the high cost of rental on the Island, or have been provided accommodation there by their employers. The big losers are the tenants who continue to pay more rent as housing development in Lagos is continually outstripped by influx of pilgrims. Secondly, the ownership of a car becomes imperative for those who do not live in the temple areas, and who feel dehumanized by the public transport non-system. It makes no difference that these cars will never be optimally utilized due to the congestion on the streets of Lagos. Thirdly, those who live in the vicinity of the temples are envied by the others who do not, notwithstanding the deplorable state of facilities and infrastructure in these areas. This envy is heightened by the ‘them’ and ‘us’ mentality possessed by some who reside in the vicinity of the temple areas. Some of those who dwell in the temple vicinity on the Island only come to the Mainland when they want to travel out of Lagos through the airport in Ikeja. For those guys who live on the Mainland and want to marry babes who dwell in the temple areas, to be forewarned is to be forearmed. Fourthly, relocating from the Mainland to any of the temple locations becomes the goal for most businesses. Once this is achieved, increase in the prices of the goods or services offered by such businesses are expected in the light of increased operating costs due to relocation. Fifthly, slums and densely populated communities have over the years sprung up proximate to the temple areas for those who cannot afford the cost of commuting. So a room in a slum like Orile-Iganmu costs N2, 000 a month because it is about 10 minutes drive on a good day from Orile to CMS. The flip side of the proximity of these slums to the temples is that pilgrims using the pilgrimage routes and those who dwell in the temple areas are not safe. The main recommendation of the committee is the establishment of the Lagos Mega City 42

Development Authority, similarly in concept to NDDC in the Niger Delta. While a bill to this effect is pending before the National Assembly, I have my reservations as to whether the LMCDA can ease the pains of worshippers in Lagos. The practice of government setting up an agency, funding it and appointing its management has not been too effective in addressing social and economic issues. Whether or not LMCDA becomes a reality and is successful in the execution of its mandate, Lagosians need more temples of worship as a matter of urgency. I do not believe that constructing more routes to the existing temple sites is best solution as the main beneficiaries of such a solution remain the temple priests and servants. Neither do I believe that the solution is to reserve one lane in the existing limited and dilapidated road network for the exclusive use of the Bus Rapid Transport Scheme. Even if all Lagosians were to become LASMA officials and traffic wardens, and all the existing roads in Lagos were well tarred, it would still not address the situation.

Already, 28 new temple sites have been identified in Lagos for development purposes, so why wait for the passage of the LMCDA bill before taking action? Let us begin immediately to develop additional temples of worship in Lagos State

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Energy flows where attention goes – Serge Kahili King Lagos Unproductivity Index According to Economist.com, economic growth depends on two things: how fast the number of workers rises and how much more they can produce. In the past two decades the American economy has enjoyed the fastest growth of the developed world because both of these factors have grown briskly. However, since 2001, the American economy has been in recession as the labor force has not grown as robustly as after previous downturns. If the size of the labor force does not track population gains, the remaining workers will have to work harder or more efficiently, if living standards are to keep rising. Of course, rising living standards are associated with Americans having more credit to lavish on ever expanding consumptive patterns. One measure that has been effectively utilized over the years to address the slowdown in labor force growth has been to get more American women into the work pool. An extension of this measure was the drive to have single mothers takes up jobs rather than depending on social security or welfare benefits. But the expected retirement of the baby boomers generation is causing another enormous demographic shift in America. This is expected to place an extra burden on tomorrow’s American workers unless productivity growth is strong enough to plug the gap. The gap that has to be plugged is between American productivity and the nation’s ever increasing number of dependants. So the advice of Economist.com is that America has to undertake more structural reform to make its economy more competitive. The implication of not undertaking any structural reform is that America will struggle to support its ever increasing number of dependants.

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Some of the proposed reforms include trade liberalization, ending distortions caused by farm subsidies, and tax reform to broaden the base and remove inefficient tax breaks. Others are changes to social security in order to encourage savings and delay retirement, and deep changes to the education system at all levels. Recently, there was uproar in America, over plans by Congress to grant citizenship and residence status to millions of illegal aliens residing and working in that nation. The earlier visa lottery program for skilled workers, which was embarked upon by the American government has woefully failed to bolster the nation’s productivity growth. Nigeria was granted 50, 000 slots annually under that program, which was designed to use skilled workers from other nations to improve living standards in America. Now the new thinking is that if the millions of people illegal residing in America are granted legal status, this will improve productivity growth strong enough to plug the gap. This would allow the system capture the productivity of millions, increase taxes, empower millions, increase social security generation, etc. Talk of sinister motives; whether it is getting single mothers back to work, or the visa lottery or the legitimizing of aliens, the objective is the survival of the American nation. Rather than embark on a change of values and lifestyles, the Americans would prefer to improve on living standards by bringing in more workers to increase productivity. Monthly, economic pundits closely analyze the productivity and consumption indexes released by relevant authorities in America. They also monitor home sales and inventory indexes, interest rates as determined by the Feds, stock exchanges etc in order to keep track of the overall state of the economy, While you can accuse the Americans of being self-centered, at least the continued survival of their nation and its flourishing remains their primary concern. The reverse seems to be the case in Nigeria in general and Lagos in particular and probably explains why some believe this country will cease to exist 15 years from now. In spite of having a National Productivity Center, there are no accurate indices for measuring productivity in Nigeria, as we mostly rely on guess work or estimates.

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But even at that, one would have to surmise that hardly any serious productivity takes place in a city like Lagos because the living conditions do not permit for that. An estimate 75% of Lagosians live in densely populated communities and over 100 slums where water, power, facilities, adequate housing is almost nonexistent. In these communities and slums the predominant accommodation is one room apartments having communal toilets and baths, and averaging 58 people per room. Many Lagosians start there day as early as 4’o clock in the morning to be able to use the toilet and bathrooms in their homes to avoid the morning rush and go-slow. Then to add insult to injury, these Lagosians have to spend 5 to 6 hours daily commuting to and from work in conditions that drain them of energy even before they get to work. This is because most workers and business people reside on the mainland, outside the three main business districts in Victoria Island, Lagos Island and Apapa. Then there are only three routes linking Lagos mainland and the Islands, with markets and bus stops strategically located on two of these routes. The third route now has a lane on either side dedicated for the exclusive use of the Bus Rapid Transport Scheme. In work places across Lagos, power supply mostly comes from generators that depend on petrol or diesel, severely curtailing productivity and making work conditions very harsh. The immediate implication of this unproductivity is a thriving group of middle men and women who have perfected the act of reaping where they have not sown. Since the system does not encourage genuine productivity and people have to survive, this group has learnt how to transfer their burdens to the few who engage in productivity. Don’t ask me to name names but these people are in their millions and are easily identified by their chief trait of making money without being productive. But more worrisome are those who cannot partake of the fruit of their productivity through no fault of theirs. For how long can they continue to tolerate the condition of ‘monkey de work, baboon de chop’ situation that they face in Lagos?

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As the Americans have come to realize the connection between productivity and increasing populations, we have to know the implications of unproductivity in Lagos. The status quo, which creates sever disparities and distortions in economic and social conditions, is not sustainable in the middle to long term. The imbalances generated by the unproductivity in Lagos are making living conditions both nightmarish for the rich and the poor alike. Unless we are prepared to undertake structural reform in Lagos to both social and economic conditions, Lagos may be in for a crash landing into an abyss.

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12 The worst thing that can happen to anyone is his loss of faith in God - Gandhi Curse God? Curse God and die, was the advice Job got from his wife in the Biblical Old Testament account of a rich man who lost all his children and wealth due to no fault of his. I had received a phone call to attend the monthly meeting of Opeloyeru Community Development Association in Orile. I packed my car on Babs Animashaun Street, Surulere and made my way by foot to the house of Chief Savage on Opeloyeru Road, the venue of the meeting. Opeloyeru road is one of main roads running through Orile, which motorists except big trucks had long abandoned due to its deplorable state. In a good condition, Opeloyeru Street serves as a alternative to decongest the traffic bottleneck at DoyinOrile busstop and goes all the way to Coker, Aguda. As I stood at the entrance of Opeloyeru road, I was faced with a sea of water as far as the eye could see as it had been raining almost nonstop for about 3 days. The only way to get to the venue of the meeting was to take off my sandals and preferably my trousers and wade through the water. Around me, men, women, and children going back and forth on the road were stripping and putting their clothing and shoes on their heads to come out or enter the community. Before my eyes, young girls and women who would ensure that you ordinarily needed a microscope to see their legs were exposing themselves. Imagine having your bath, putting on good attire, and leaving home to attend a function, only to get to the main road and strip to wade through filthy and foul smelling water.

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The last time I had done such was about 19 years earlier during my NYSC in Borno State when I needed to cross a river that had no bridge to inspect a land that was in dispute. Not prepared to take that risk again, I searched for an alternative and that was how I met Ralph, a teacher with a bucket full of dirty water at the back of a house close to the road. I enquired of him if there was an alternative route to avoid the river on Opeloyeru road, and he offered to take me through the corridor of the tenement where he rents a room. Taking this unusual route would ensure I avoided the deep side of what I now referred to as river Opeloyeru and pass the front of other tenements to get to my destination. I noticed that the house which was at the back of the Orile canal had also been flooded as the canal had overflowed with water due to blockages. The flooding in the house had been so bad that water had risen as high as the knobs on the doors completely soaking, and damaging properties and other items. Ralph informed me that he had completely abandoned his room for the past four days and had taken temporary refuge in his church. Aside from having not properly slept, he had been wearing the same shirt and trouser during this period and since 5.00am that day had been bailing water out of his room. Other residents in the tenement were doing likewise, and the doors of some of the rooms were still under lock indicating that other tenants were yet to show up. He pointed out his room to me with his furniture, electronics, and clothing still floating on water and the other rooms that were opened were in a similar state. He also showed me the toilet in the tenement that discharged its contents directly into the canal, but with the canal overflowing some of its contents had swam back. I grimed trying to block out from my imagination pictures of the stuff that was floating in the water in which I was wading through in that tenement. Speaking on behalf of the other residents, Ralph explained how the slumlord of the tenement had misled them into believing that the tenement was not prone to flooding.

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They now knew better, but there was no escaping the present reality as the slumlord was not prepared to make any refunds and neither could they raise fresh funds to relocate. I remembered that I was on my way to a meeting, so I invited Ralph to come along with me since he was not aware that a CDA existed on his street to state his predicament. At the CDA meeting the issue of the havoc been caused by the flooding was the main subject of discussion. It turned out that the canal, which receives floodwater from some parts of Surulere, was blocked at its point of discharge. When it rains, the accumulated water ends up discharging onto Orile, and Opeloyeru Street, which is closest to the canal, is the worst off for it. Complaints to the local council were met with the retort that there was no money as the Federal Government was yet to release LG funds belonging to Lagos councils. Therefore, the CDA decided to impose a levy of N500 per house to engage local contractors to clear one of the blocked drains for the discharge of the canal water. Yes the community had bad roads, lack of pipe borne water, insecurity, but the flooding was causing them much anguish, and to them they needed to rise up to this challenge. When I asked if a preliminary, costing was done to affect the discharge of the blocked drain, the answer was in the negative as they were too weary to wait for that. Ralph was happy to hear this and promised to mobilize those in his tenement as they were already raising N750 per room to raise a wall between their tenement and the canal. It was at this point that one of the CDA officials stood up to thank me for attending the meeting and made a statement that captured their state of mind. According to him, the community does not know whether to curse God anytime it rains as this brings flooding, which in turn comes with anguish. I was quick to add that their problem was man made, and that God who causes rain to fall on both the good and the bad, is a good God. In my heart, I was saying that the people who deserve to be cursed are leaders who 50

end up converting to their personal use monies intended for development purposes. However, I remember the injunction, which enjoins us to pray for those who are in authority. As I left Orile I knew that was one prayer point that no one would enjoy praying but Ralph was too much in a buoyant mood to notice.

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13 True blindness is to have a darkened heart – K. Omose What Do You See? On the wall of my office is a picture of what one barrel of oil (42 gallons) yields, i.e. the different value added products that can be obtained from refining one barrel of crude oil. It includes Gasoline 43%, Distillate 21.5%, Residual 11.5%, Jet Fuel 6.9%, Feed Stock 4.7%, and Still Gas 3.8%. Others are Asphalt 3.1%, Coke 2.6%, LPG 2.3%, Kerosene 1.3%, Lubricants 1.3%, and Miscellaneous 0.67%. That picture serves both as a source of despair and encouragement. Despair because I an amazed that a country with such huge reserves of oil and gas is filled with poor people. Encouragement, because I can see what Nigeria can be transformed into when we are able to harness these huge reserves of oil and gas for the benefit of the people. Presently, Nigeria has the capacity to produce 2.5 million barrels of crude oil a day with reserves expected to last another 40 years. In the case of gas, Nigeria is actually a gas producing nation with crude oil, but much of the gas is flared as at date. Therefore, whether we are talking of crude oil or gas, we are like the owners of a farmland who cannot even farm or is too lazy to learn how to farm. First, we invite interested farmers to bid for the right to farm our farmland on either a shared cost basis or sole cost basis. The bid and acceptance fee initially paid by these farmers is supposedly used to train our own people to become good farmers in eternity. Second, we engage persons who hardly go to the farmland, to make sure that those farming our farmland actually are doing the right thing. Third, those farming our farmland declare to us their farm yield, after which in some cases we allow them to deduct the cost of farming before sharing the proceeds with us.

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Fourth, those farming our farmland take their share of the farm produce to their homes in distant locations using their own transportation, and add value to it. They have perfected many means of getting various byproducts from the farm yields that are worth more in value and productivity than the original product. Sixth, we take our share of farm products, sell them in their raw state and call a monthly meeting, and share the income on some strange formula among artificial entities. The artificial entities are under the control of few people and are legitimate avenues to corner the bulk of the farm produce for their personal and related uses. Seven, to add insult to injury, those who originally owned and occupied the farmland before the start of the farming exercise, have no direct access to the proceeds of the land. Even when the proceeds are channeled to them, it is routed through several artificial entities with nothing going directly to these communities. Then finally, the income derived from selling our share of the farm produce is used to import valued added products from those who we hired to farm our land in the first place. The result is lack in the midst of plenty, and the absolute poverty that has held Nigeria in a stronghold and made corruption the status quo. In my minds eye, I see a Niger Delta bustling with refineries, plants, processes, and operations that add value to the oil and gas we have in abundance. I see unemployment as disappearing, and the Nigerian productivity index rising to unimaginable heights. I see the financial, manufacturing, and agricultural sectors as complimenting one another and working at full capacity. I see an educated, skilled, and robust Nigerian workforce that rises to meet the challenges presented by increased development. I see a nation where we allow the Niger Delta communities to collect 50% of the rent from the use of their land for exploration and production of oil and gas. We can do this because much more revenue will be coming into our coffers from

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taxation and being shareholders of the companies adding value to oil and gas in the Niger Delta. Imagine our ports bustling with vessels some of which belong to Nigerians and employing Nigerians, shipping these finished products worldwide. Then we can use what some have called a curse to transform Nigeria by generating wealth that endures long after the oil and gas is exhausted. Then we can ensure that every Nigeria becomes a homeowner as happened in Singapore that gave people in a multicultural society a sense of belonging. Then we will no longer have slums in our cities, and everyone gets a fair chance at succeeding in life. Then we will be a nation where all the communities live together in peace and harmony because all are well provided for. Then we will be a nation that points the pathway to other nations that some call underdeveloped and developing. To achieve this, we can start by overcoming the small mindedness that has overwhelmed our ruling class and the spirit of selfishness that rules in the average Nigerian heart. We need leaders who are visionary and can make us elevate our sight from our limitations to see the big picture. We also need leaders who are developmental, and can set us on the path to that which we have envisioned. No easy task if you ask me, but what good thing ever comes easy?

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14 Are We All Victims? This week, I watched a film based on a true life story. It is about a female parole officer in a US city who started an initiative in a high school that has lessons for us in Lagos. Parole officers are government officials who among others ensure that prisoners on parole keep to the conditions of their release or get sent back to prison. This lady was motivated by the devastating effect imprisonment of one or both parents were having on their children to start a program called “No Victims”. The system was effective in monitoring prisoners who regularly went in and out of prison for violating parole conditions; but no one was paying attention to their children. This lady observed that such children were more often than not the ones who engaged in deviant behavior and eventually entered into a life time of crime. So she approached the authorities of a notorious high school in the city and was given a year to prove that something could be done to help these children. With the help of her former boss, she began a session of interaction and constructive engagement with some volunteer children who had one or both parents in prison. These children were encouraged to speak out about their experiences, pains, frustrations, and hurts and were over time made to understand that they were not the victims. They were encouraged to have dreams and aspirations and through the use of group help, to improve on their school work and their care for one another. The highlight of this film is not so much about the initial hostility that the No Victims initiative faced from the teachers in the school. It is also not about the skepticism which the children had about the initiative as many felt it was meant for the weak and could not solve their problems. Neither is it about the fact that the lady was attacked on several occasions by some of these children, nor that she made immense personal sacrifices in the process. This lady showed so much love, understanding and patience that it was difficult to believe that she was human. It even turned out that three years earlier, she had been attacked and raped by a knife welding youth which had set her on a part of introspection.

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Yes progress was slow, and results were initially few and far between, and some of the children dropped out of the initiative. Yes the initiative eventually succeeded, and the children who stayed through had significant improvement in their grades and went on to graduate. The highlight to me was taking the children to visit a maximum security prison to interact with prisoners who were parents. It was a moving experience seeing the children relate to these prisoners what their lives were like without having the presence of fathers and or mothers who were in prison. But more important was the resolve of these children that they did not want to end up like their parents and to give their own children a better opportunity than they had had. Tears were flowing freely both on the part of the children and these prisoners including me who was watching the film. There was something the lady said at an event organized to mark the first year of the initiative that set me thinking. According to her, many people believe that the monster of crime came from the streets into the neighborhood and eventually found its way into the home. The reverse was the case according to her, as crime actually has its origins from the home from where it makes its way to the neighborhood, and eventually the streets. And if nothing was done to constructively engage these children during the formative periods of their lives, society was looking at the next generation of hardened criminals. The lessons in this film for parents, school authorities, government and the wider society are enormous. It is a story of constructive engagement and its impact. While I leave readers to draw their own conclusions, permit me to quote from my earlier write up on “A Tour of Hell”: “The most disturbing aspect of the Easter Monday tour (of Orile) was the large number of children and young persons I came across The overwhelming evidence was there to see, of barely clad children with extended stomachs Of babies on the laps or backs of their mothers, or left crawling near open sewers, and of young boys playing with objects that look like balls

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There were men wearing singlet who hung near by as if surveying the proof of their manhood and wondering if this was all there was to life Then there were young boys and girls’ hanging out on the streets, seeing that was the only available space Thousands and thousands of them with looks of resignation on their faces, knowing that their options in life were limited There were no recreation facilities, with beer parlors providing the only means of unwinding There were no tarred roads, more like foot paths darting between houses. There were no drainages; no proper sewer systems There was no presence of any government health center or hospital, or a proper pharmacy for that matter But there were patent medicine stores selling predominantly fake drugs dotting most corners” This in a nutshell captures my obsession with Orile and why I write like a man possessed and why I cannot seem to stay away from Orile.

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15 The Frustration Gap As I carefully navigated the car through the wide craters that had surfaced on Eric Moore Road, Surulere since the start of the rains, my headlights picked up a figure in front of me It was a young man delicately perched on a skateboard with his hands extended on both sides who was doing his best to also navigate a wide crater on the road. He was crippled and using the skateboard as a means of mobility whiles his hands, which he used for propelling the skateboard, were padded with rubber slippers. Seeing that there were more craters to navigate ahead of us, and fearing for his safety from the possessed bus drivers that ply that road, I decided to give him a lift. So I stopped by his side, opened the front passenger door and invited him into the car with a promise to drop him at the intersection between Eric Moore and Bode Thomas. I could pick out the expression of surprise on his face from the interior light in the car as he used his powerful hands to lift himself into the car after putting his skateboard in. As I drove on at snail speed on what is supposed to be a dual carriage road, I decided to use the opportunity to know more about this disadvantaged youth and this is his story. Sunday lives in Isaleko in Central Lagos but in the evenings on weekdays and Saturdays, he makes his way to Surulere, were he begs for alms on the traffic congested streets. He leaves home at about 6.00PM and makes his way on the skateboard through Apongbon, Eko Bridge and Eric Moore road to his operational base along Bode Thomas. Unlike the rest of us car owners, it takes him about an hour to get to Surulere where he spends the next three to four hours begging alms from weary motorists. His most priced possession is his skateboard which cost about N3, 000 and he spends N320 every two months to change the bearings on the wheels due to wear and tear. He also has to grease these bearings regularly to ensure that his skateboard functions optimally, which is more than what I can say for most car owners in Lagos. According to him, good skateboards are hard to come by and this explains why he has to handle his with much care as it is central to his sustenance. On my enquiry as to why he had resorted to begging, it turned out that he trained as a cobbler having graduated from a special facility for the disable about three years ago.

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On graduation, he was given a certificate while a generous expatriate friend of the facility had provided him with the tools for practicing as a cobbler. Unfortunately, no one had remembered that because he was crippled he would need a shop from which to practice as a cobbler and this was his major challenge. His earnings from begging alms can barely sustain him not to talk of financing the rent for a shop, so his project has been placed on hold awaiting divine intervention. I was completely subdued by his compelling story and amazed at his positive countenance despite the conditions of his life. After what seemed like an eternity, we finally got to the end of Eric Moore and as he alighted, I gave him some money and my phone number telling him to give me a call. As I made my way back on Eric Moore, my mind unusually failed me in my attempts to put myself in Sunday’s shoes as the saying goes, not minding that he is crippled. It was like trying to load incompatible application software on a Microsoft Windows Operating System. So I conveniently shifted my lazy mind to contemplating on how many other Lagosians could remain positive like Sunday while not having the means to fulfill their dreams? Sunday probably had no option due to his disability, but what if he was able bodied and all around him were people who were displaying opulence? Would he be able to swallow his pride and endure for three years the shame of not being able to fulfill his aspirations or would he resort to self help? What if there are millions of other people who unlike Sunday are not prepared to wait for divine intervention but believe in taking from others what they think is rightfully theirs? My mind shuddered at what it would mean to live in a society where the gap between aspiration and realization is as wide as the Atlantic Ocean. To make matters worse, UNFPA says living in urban areas makes people to develop new aspirations which they may not always have the means to realize. The statement is contained in a report which was released by UNFPA on the State of World Population 2007. An aspiration is a strong desire to achieve something high or great, while realization is synonymous with accomplishment, gain, performance or completion.

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This gap between aspirations and realization according to UNFPA may lead to a sense of deracination (being uprooted) and marginalization (relegation). Others implications of the gap between aspirations and realizations are identity crises, feelings of frustration (bad belle) and aggressive (gra gra) behavior. With global urban population expected to reach 3.3 billion by 2008, this has grave implications for urban areas. And with the official population of Lagos stated by NPC to be over 9 million (unofficially 17 million) the implications are even graver. Too weary to think about these graver implications my self indulgent mind switched to the prospects of the hot dinner that was waiting for me at home.

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