Monday Lines
By Lasisi Olagunju
(Published in the Nigerian Tribune on Monday, 19 August, 2024)
How rich is Vice President Kashim Shettima? I ask because twice last week, the big man from Borno described President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, Lion of Bourdillon, Jagaban Borgu, Asiwaju of Lagos, as “this poor man.” To prove that the president is poor, Shettima said since he knew him “he has been using only one wristwatch” and living in a house without swimming pools. And, as a wrap-up of his definition of “poor”, he described himself as a better dresser than Tinubu. “He has overcome all those odds to dress well,” he said of the president. May God save us from the spirit of ostentatious poverty.
In case you missed it, a recap: The vice president spoke in Abuja last Thursday at the launch of a book. The event and the book itself were on universal education and what is needed to make it work. I didn’t read or hear the vice president speak on that topic. Instead of words on education, which his country needs desperately, it was the size of the president’s house and his table manner that tickled Nigeria’s number two. First, in defence of the government and the ravages of these lean times, he said the president once drank garri and munched groundnut –a perfect marker of poverty. “At the formative stage of the APC, we held a meeting in his house. They served us a variety of meals but he opted to take garri with groundnut for lunch.” Tinubu’s deputy said those words. He was sure that “posterity will be very kind to this poor man.” I wonder what members of his audience were thinking. There was no one bold enough there to tell him that garri had stopped being poor man’s food; and that groundnut was no longer selling for peanuts.
Vice President Shettima is a lover of books, an aficionado of the written word. But Albert Einstein warned us against the evil of reading too many books. First century CE Roman philosopher, Epictetus, spoke about reading right and thinking better. There are others with similar cautions. If you read too much, you will likely start seeing what ordinary eyes do not see. Photographs of the vice president in bookshops home and abroad dot the Internet’s landscape. The man reads; what he reads, I do not know. He sees also. We say Ení we’jú l’èru nbà – the clairvoyant sees stuffs and gets scared. But this man sees and enjoys his seeing the unusual. The vice president may not be like Shakespeare’s Cassius who “has a lean and hungry look”, but like Cassius, “he reads much…and looks through the deeds of men.” Unlike you and me, blind bats, Senator Shettima sees the inner man. He declared that he had “seen the soul of Bola Tinubu” and it is “a good soul.” Unlike the Roman senator who trusts not Caesar, our own senator-VP passionately begged us to invest our trust in his boss, Tinubu, and “rally around this poor man” – the president.
At a time in the 1980s, a very prominent oba described Chief M.K.O. Abiola as a man who needed prayers to be truly rich. And that was at the peak of Abiola’s glory as a billionaire. The oba was someone everyone knew had a deep pocket, an old money, and so, no one could say he talked rubbish. That is what I remembered when Shettima uttered those words about Tinubu being “poor”. He went further: “He (Tinubu) means well for the nation. He wants to live in a place of glory. He is not in power to engage in primitive capital accumulation. He is in power to leave landmarks in the sands of time. He is the most demonised politician in Nigeria. The first time I went to his house at Bourdillon, I was looking forward to seeing a mansion comparable to Buckingham Palace, with gardens, and swimming pools, but there was nothing special about that house. My house in Maiduguri is better than the house in Bourdillon.”
Where is our good old writer, Nkem Nwankwo, author of ‘My Mercedes is Bigger than Yours’? It is in that novel we encounter clansmen and women extolling “the luck of the clan” for having a son who has come home with a “mythical car.” It is in that story that one of them, Herdsman, is heard saying with much pride: “From today, we are the greatest. Any clan which claims they are equal with us, let them come out.” The author says “the speech received applause” (check page 41 of that novel). Death is wicked – and wasteful. If death hadn’t taken Nwankwo, the storyteller, perhaps Shettima would have inspired him to give us another bestseller- ‘My Manson is Mightier than Yours.’ This is a good time to be alive.
A child’s name is his star; his culmination (orúko omo níí ro’mo). ‘Tinubu’ should not have occurred in the same sentence with ‘poor’. Indeed, the vice president and all who do not know should know today that the name ‘Tinubu’ is the shortened form of “Òsun-ti-inú-ibu-wá (Osun goddess has come from the depths of the seas)”. That is not my invention; it is the very original truth as documented in history books. The deity who birthed that name is never associated with poverty and a lack of any good thing of life. In fact, it is to the bosom of that goddess of fecundity that people in need of help go for succour. And they get their hearts’ desire. So, let no one again describe this Tinubu as poor. The gods will be angry.
The president is my brother, he shall not want. We won’t allow anyone, including the vice president, to point at him a finger that suggests poverty. Where we come from, being poor is being cursed; we pray fervently against wretchedness; we bind the spirit of poverty. A war that is won shall never raise its head again. Poverty is an affliction which our man defeated a long time ago. Even if our brother is not picking our calls, we his people won’t ever wish him evil. Never.
But why did the vice president veer off and go on that voyage? Will Tinubu being poor educate the uneducable and the uneducated? Will it give food to the hungry and make the sick well? And, how rich really is this Shettima to whom our wealthy Tinubu is a poor man, and who boasted that his far northern house is “better” than Bourdillon’s street-to-beach mansion in Lagos? Even the president’s gardener would laugh at that comparison. In the best of times, Buckingham Palace, if built in Shettima’s Maiduguri, won’t be worth half a plot in Tinubu’s Bourdillon Street.
Someone should just not provoke our president’s masquerade to dance out of the grove with all the majesty of his elegance. If the president has not read his deputy’s eulogy, I appeal to my brothers in charge of his media to cover it with palm fronds of forgetfulness. The president must not show the size of his weight, the height of his full length and the hues that are his colour. But, even if he reads the words, I am sure Tinubu is too seasoned to be provoked into wearing gold bars as wristwatches. He would not be president of Nigeria if he was just a wealthy pauper with a mansion in the richest part of Lagos. When a child is smart, our people say ‘o mo way’. Our president is president because he is rich in ways and in means.
Sir H. Rider Haggard KBE (1856-1925) was an English writer who authored many adventure fiction romance novels. He wrote ‘King Solomon’s Mines’ and its sequel, ‘Allan Quatermain’; he wrote ‘Morning Star’; he wrote ‘She’; he wrote ‘Queen Sheba’s Ring’; he wrote ‘Finished’ and fifty other novels. At a time, he told us to take things easy because ultimately “time eats up the works of man.” Sir Haggard’s adventure stories are as money-and-women-themed as the adventures of our big men here. His characters are as varied in character as the characters you find in our politics here. These include the urbane prince, Umbopa, and the ugly witchy hag, Gagool. I am interested in his Umslopogaas, king of the wolves – a man he describes as “full grown, fierce and keen”. The one who would be our president here and ride the waves would be that character who sees “by night as well as by day”. In Haggard’s voice, I say Bola Tinubu is president because, like Umslopogaas, he is “fleet of foot”, and of “valour unequalled”. Such men can’t be poor; their wealth is denominated in gold and diamond mines – not in bars, not in rings and wristwatches.
The man who is our president is our president because he is smart and generous with his money. People who are around him or who have been ‘fortunate’ to be in his presence say he does not know what tribal mark the circumciser put on naira and dollar bills. They say he has no patience to check the mien of all currencies of value before spending them. They say you don’t go into his den of dough sobbing and come out still teary. They say the man’s nimble needle sutures all tears. But, they add that he is not a stupid spender. They say he is strategic in spraying his gold coins and in throwing his diamond bars. They say he gives in measures that won’t make him lose the receiver and that won’t swat his own desires. Our late friend, Yinka Odumakin, once told a story: A man from ‘the other side’ sneaked into Bourdillon Road with a valuable piece of information. The man was well ‘appreciated’ but our friend said he felt the ‘appreciation’ was not big enough; he suggested a little more. “No”, the wise spender told his adviser, “if he gets more than that, he won’t come back.” Wisdom!
One more thing: I have read haters also making a fuss around the president’s new Airbus A330 and his latest wonder-on-wheels – a Cadillac Escalade. They are speculating on the costs. What is money? Money is nothing! Does it really matter that a woman we married in this season of famine is moulding bricks and blocks with pounded yam? (Ìyàwó tí a fé l’ósù agà t’ón f’iyán mo’lé). If the president of Nigeria does not spend Nigeria’s money, who else will? When a commission of inquiry in 1956 said Adegoke Adelabu spent money of IDC (Ibadan District Council), his appreciative people poured into the street with songs that endorsed whatever he did with their money: “Adegoke omo Adelabu / Máa k’ówó wa ná/ Ìgunnu l’ó ni Tápà/ Tápà l’ó nì’gunnu; Máa k’ówó wa ná (Adegoke, son of Adelabu/Spend our money/Igunnu owns Tapa; /Tapa belongs to Igunnu/Spend our money…).” It is not the fault of Tinubu’s haters. I blame the president for being too soft with everything, including our purse. An ancient oba who was that soft was rebuked by his courtiers with something that sounded like: “You are at fault/ You who married their wives and did not marry their mothers;/ You are to blame.” I blame the president. He should spend our money like a rich man that he is. He should not mind what haters and enemies say. Their anger is induced by envy; it is a fight that cannot be resolved by the passage of time (Ìjà ìlara ni, kò lè tán bòrò). Ultimately, all heads shall bow; all knees shall bend. At the end of this president’s two thousand seasons, we will thank him and praise him — and worship him.