©Copyright Arinola Awokoya, 2011

The right of Mrs. Iyabo Arinola Awokoya to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted
in accordance with the Copyright Act 2001

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 Dedication

To God Almighty who created me own image and sent me forth to the world to do my bit.
I pray that I will fulfil your purpose on earth and continually abide in your presence till I
am called to be with you in glory in Jesus’ name. Amen.

To my parents, the Honourable Mr. Justice Rasheed Olabamidele Fawehinmi (rtd.) and
Mrs Gertrude Ebun Ololade Feawehinmi (nee Shogbola) for bringing me forth into the
world and nurturing me these past 50 years with love and goodness.

To my older brothers, Dr Olawale Oludolapo Fawehinmi and Mr. Olaitan Olugbolahan

Fawehinmi for sharing the journey of life with me all these years and for still being in my
orbit of love and goodness.

To my husband, friend and partner for the past 25 years, Omodele Adebayo Awokoya,
for allowing me wings to soar and not trying to clip my wings at all.

To my darling daughter, Omodesola Olufimihan Ajibike Awokoya for making my life a

fulfilment. For being my precocious bundle of joy. For making me a life-long learner as I
learn new things through your eyes. For your verve for life that changes all things which
threaten melancholy in my life to joy and hope. Love you lots baby girl.
 Preface
This treatise contains some perspectives of my philosophy on some aspects of life and
living and attempts to grapple successfully with my existence as a unique piece of God’s
world, fathoming the import of my actions vis-à-vis my make-up, genetic and otherwise.
It is not a biography, but a peep into my make-up. It is reflection of my life past and a
gaze at the future and it is being written at the appropriate age of 50.

Maturity brings forth in every human being some constancy, some correlation to the very
facet of the matured person, such that his or her alignments become formed and set in
many particular respects and he or she becomes known for certain attitudes and
behaviours. That is what has happened to me and rather than let people speculate about
my alignments and attribute meanings, correctly or erroneously to them, I have thought it
best to present to the world “me”, “Just Me” just as I am.

I am no apologist for age and wisdom and neither am I arrogant in my person per se. I
have just got to the comfortable age in life when I can with boldness and self-
assuredness say to the world - “this is me, take me as you find me or leave me as you
find me, whichever is appropriate.”

I had thought and planned to publish the full work (my yet untitled book) from which this
excerpt is drawn on my 50th birthday which is today the 9th of May 2011, but some
intense pressure of work occupied my time these past 4 months and since I am an
ardent fan of hard work, I thank God for the provision of the work which has stalled, but
has not truncated my goal to have the complete works published in the year of my 50th
birthday.

Perhaps conceiving using a book publication as a milestone of achievement at 50

smacks of a lack of humility and God is teaching me a lesson in such, I do not know, but
to me, part of maturity is the ability to weigh everything and put issues into perspective.
Should I have ignored my work in favour of completing this treatise or should I have got
the work done and delayed on the publication of my treatise. I chose the latter and I
believe it is the right decision. My complete philosophy will still be published in the
course of my 50th year. That is a promise!
So what readers will get will be just three or four reflections. Some were written as far
back as 1998 while others are more recent, some are deep while some are sublime and
some others are just written for the heck of it, to poke some fun at some issues. Some
express anger and others express frustration. The full work promises to be exciting since
I have a lot to say, but presently, this publication is a teaser, inviting the reader to look
into the window of a dark room and glimpse a hint of the decorations inside. Since the
room is dark, the viewer will see just a bit and imagine the rest.

I invite readers to read with an open mind. You may get upset at some perceived
arrogance or at some seemingly obdurate views, but please understand that obduracy
and “some” pride are also part of my make-up and so in a complete coming out of “the
closet” (the armchair or sofa-bed critic type), I am as frank as I possibly can be and will
not apologise for it. I feel I have strong views on many issues and I have taken the liberty
of age to express my views in this work.

Finally the day I have looked forward to for a while has come. Today the 9th of May,
2011. I am 50 years of age and God has ordained that I will spend the day hard at work
and that it will be in the company of Heads and Administrators of Lagos State Secondary
Schools; participants in my company-Sages Consult Limited’s Management and
Leadership Training under the Lagos EKO Project. You are appointed to be my guests
today and this is just the way I want my birthday to be. I did not want any party or
function and had planned to be out of the country on this day, but what better way to
avoid the party than to be hard at work. To me, 50 is not the time to be partying, but a
time to take stock, conduct an evaluation and then rethink action plans towards making
the remainder of one’s life to account for even better than the first part did.

You will all receive a copy of this book as my gift to you, but I expect no gift in return. On
this day also, I re- launch my three main charities and interests. I intend to dedicate the
remainder of my life to these charities and others that the Lord may appoint me for in the
future. They are:

• Culture Regard Society- Musical and Arts Society to promote the love of
Classical music in children.

• Seeking out children with high IQ and other talents who have not the means to
gain higher education and raising capital to pay school fees and maintenance
expenses during their entire time in the school. Not even setting boundaries for
 their possible attainment, trusting that God who began a good thing in them will
be faithful to complete such in them and submitting to being used as a vessel to
bring this to pass.

• Serving God as a Sunday School Teacher at the Archbishop Vining Memorial

Church Cathedral (AVMCC), G.R.A, Ikeja, Lagos
 Tomfoolery is dated1
I can say emphatically that I stopped being a fool ten years ago. That was precisely on
the 9th of May 2001 on my 40th birthday. Prior to then, it had been easy to thrust aside
every foolish act of commission or omission to the inexperience or foolishness of young
age. The Yoruba saying - “omode lo nse”- meaning that the act of commission or
omission was an act of childishness was most appropriate. But when I turned 40, I ran
out of that excuse because I became subject to the judgment of a unanimous world
epitomised in the saying that “a fool at 40 is one forever.” Stopped thereto by the import
of the saying, it became imperative to consider all further acts after the age of 40 in the
light of whether or not they would pass the “foolishness litmus test”. I took a decision and
did declare that tomfoolery had become a thing of the past in my life. With that
declaration I eschewed foolishness in all its ramifications from thence forward.

So it has been that in the past ten years preceding this day the 9th May 2011, that I have
subjected every plan of mine or any act pursuant to any of my plans to scrutiny prior to
doing them or whenever they were spontaneous acts, after the fact. It became a sort of
ritual- conceive, ruminate and act, or act spontaneously, ruminate and act again either in
redress or in application of further buttressing actions.

So what then is foolishness?

A credible definition of foolishness is that it is an act done by someone who ought to
know better; an act that is devoid of good sense or judgement. This is my adapted
definition to define the foolishness of an adult. In the same vein it explains why a child
can be excused from a similar act which but for the fact that it was done by a child would
have been apparently foolish; because a child at the age of innocence is expectedly
devoid of good sense of judgement. That is why a child has parental guidance till he
attains the age of majority at 18.

There is the general understanding that when a child toddles around and falls down, he
picks himself up and he resumes his running steps always forwards towards safety,

1
Written on the 15th December 2010
usually into the arms of a waiting adult. A child never looks back to inquire as to what
made him trip, but an adult does the opposite as it should be. The adult looks back and
searches for the stumbling block that caused his fall. That again is as it should be. An
adult must learn from experience, while the child must not stop the process of
developing intellect and wisdom by subjecting his actions to too much introspection at an
early stage as no one expects him to. He is expected to go on a voyage of discovery,
knowing no fear and experiencing total freedom. And this is why the mature excuse the
actions of the child.

The child is excused because life may not have availed him of experience that the adult
has been availed of, and so he may not be expected to know better. A foolish act can be
foolish because it results from a lack of knowledge and so because a child may not have
much knowledge, the child may be excused, whereas an adult is expected to seek
knowledge in all things if he did not have them before embarking on an act which may
well turn out to be foolish. That is why the world does not forgive the foolishness of age
but forgives that of the youth.

The English language portrays the import of the word “foolish” so richly especially when
synonyms of the word are considered. The American Heritage® Dictionary of the
English Language2gives the synonyms for the word foolish as silly, fatuous, absurd,
preposterous, ridiculous, ludicrous...“These adjectives are applied to what is so devoid of
wisdom or good sense as to be laughable: a foolish expenditure of energy; a silly
argument; made fatuous remarks; an absurd idea that is bound to fail; a preposterous
excuse that no one believed; offered a ridiculous explanation for his tardiness; a
ludicrous criticism that was immediately dismissed etc.” The Yorubas also have rich
synonyms to portray the word “ode” which is an almost equal meaning of the English
word “foolish.” Ode has synonyms of; oponu, omugo, sugomu, supo sumondere, eda,
apoda etc.

The gravity of the meaning of the word foolishness so richly impacts on the person when
the word’s synonyms are considered. If you were Yoruba you would not wish to be
called an “apoda” because it almost gives an equivalent translation of the English word
“idiot” which paints a picture of a person drooling at the mouth and appearing retarded.
Thus it would be grave indeed to be seen as ludicrous or ridiculous.

2
, Fourth Edition copyright ©2000 by Houghton Mifflin Company. Updated in 2009. Published by Houghton Mifflin Company.
Most defamation cases are prosecuted because the offending written piece subjects the
targeted victim to ridicule in the estimation of the ordinary reasonable man in society. If
men and women would risk further ridicule in court to ensure that their reputation is held
sacrosanct then it is madness indeed to personally cultivate a reputation of folly. And this
is the import of this piece. That there is a need to pursue attributes of wisdom and
eschew foolishness from the age of 40.

The declared age of an end to folly

Ten years gone by and writing this treatise, I decided to examine the rationale for the
age ceiling for the end foolishness? Why is it that the world is unanimous that at 40
foolishness ceases to be excusable? Why is it that before that very important age
mistakes and foibles were easy to forgive?

The answer lies in the adages of various cultures. “Forty is the old age of youth; fifty is
the youth of old age.”3 The age of 40 is significant because it marks the end of youth and
begins the youth of old age as Victor Hugo said. At that age human beings have
matured, the hormones that raged in puberty have settled down nicely as pals to the
chemical make-up of the person and they no longer war against it. The intellect has
been stimulated at this age by education which had commenced from kindergarten
through to tertiary institutions, and experience of life has been met in varied forms with
hopes raised and dashed and joys and sadness experienced. The emotions have been
stimulated and the early rush of pure unadulterated lust should have settled into love
and marriage and family life with children born that are moving towards their own heights
of emotional stimulation. These children would be looking up to the parent. Thus
responsibility for development of sound principles and morals lie with the adult and as
such the adult must leave foolishness behind lest he raises foolish children.

Another interesting thought is that at 40, a man or woman would have tried most things
and be able to ascertain which ones suit him and which do not. Hopefully all the bad
habits would have been tried and discarded. From toddler age to 40 it is usually an uphill
movement of growth, experience, more growth and more experience whereas from 40
upwards there is a period of matured growth but there could easily be a spiralling
downwards downhill if the matured mind fails to mature in the right way. Forty is the
youth of old age quite rightly because it is a time when philosophical leanings are formed
3
Victor Hugo quotes (French romantic Poet, Novelist and Dramatist, 1802-1885)
and pursued, when wisdom is listened to and appreciated, when foolishness is
unfashionable. It is a time when the person begins to be very respected and relevant in
his community and society and he assumes roles of leadership. It is an age when no one
will call a man too young to do anything. It is simply a period of relevance. It is an age
that no one must toy with and definitely foolishness in any form indicts the person and
indicts his parents as regards the training he could have received in his youth. Forty is
the age when a man is judged by society.

A wise lady once said that “life begins at 40-but so do fallen arches, rheumatism, faulty
eyesight, and the tendency to tell a story to the same person, three or four times.” 4 Forty
again thus represents the stage that the physiological processes of the human beings
starts to show evidence of deterioration. It seemed almost that it happened overnight
when I discovered that I had to squint in order to see objects that were close to me. The
first time it occurred, I was trying to pick out a particular key from a bunch and wanted to
read the label on the key. It was a shocking experience to discover that I had to move
the key further away from me. Being myopic ordinarily and used to wearing glasses for
long sight I knew that my short-sightedness was becoming more limited and I paid a visit
to my optician. Her first comment was “welcome to the forties.” She then asked how old I
was and I told her that i turned 40 about 5 months prior. It was a truism that at 40 the
body starts showing signs of active degeneration. When the body begins to fail in the
physical, the brain however kicks in and begins to mature. Which takes me to the
observation of Benjamin Franklin when he said rightly that “at 20 years of age the will
reigns; at 30 the wit; at 40 the judgement.”5

The Yorubas from Nigeria, the indigenous tribe from which I hale have a forgiving spirit
for the foolishness of youth as reflected in many of their adages. – owo ti omode ba koko
ni guguru ati epa lo ma fin je.. to forgive the wastefulness of youth, but once the person
crosses to maturity then the Yorubas are vicious in condemning the foolishness of an
adult. (look for an adage) Agba iya, Apoda…..

Declaration of death to foolishness

So I return to my declaration 10 years ago; to eschew foolishness.

4
Helen Rowland quotes (English-American writer, 1876-1950)
5
Benjamin Franklin
The first habit I deliberately decided to cultivate was the practice of ruminating about
issues. A fool is foolish because he does not think deeply before acting. If foolishness
was to be far from me, then I had to develop that attribute which God had already given
me-the ability to dissect issues and analyse them bit by bit till the process leads to
informed decision making.

Before 40, I was quite adventurous and given to commencing so many activities
simultaneously. My life epitomised that of a busy bee. Every business idea was tried out
and when some failed, I chucked the failure as experience and moved ahead without
bothering about loss of time or money. I was naïve but ironically also highly
impassioned. This combination made me to suffer a lot emotional trauma in the hands of
friends and acquaintances. The naivety made me to think that people should naturally
understand me and my innermost motive which to me was so patently good. It was part
of the foolishness of my age then that made me feel that human beings would grant me
the benefit of the doubt. It was my naivety that made me to assume that human beings
are generally good natured. Whenever I was hurt by some unguarded word or critique of
my motives, I took it hard and felt it was some personal failure on my part that made
people hurt me. I never thought to understand that the world is not a fair place and no
one promised that it would be so.

Human beings are not nice normally, they have rather a selfish heart and this
selfishness leads them to dark hearted actions. You cannot trust in the motives behind a
smile, the smile could harbour satire or sarcasm or cunning whereas the natural and
normal expectation from a smile is that it is an expression of pleasantness. You also
cannot be sure of the venom in the expressed anger of human beings because some
seemingly dangerous anger could just be “shakara” while others with seemingly mild
volatility may portend deadly intention. Just as a smile could harbour dangerous motives,
anger could portend no evil greater than mere vituperation. But you will not believe it that
that same anger could lead to death as the smile could. So I learned the lesson well
never to trust the smile or the anger.

Code of Conduct to eradicate folly

Eschewing foolishness to me has resulted in the following code of conduct:

• I follow my bent always and do not and will not change my principles on any
account.
• Maturity may bring change in attitudes and tolerance levels to societal foibles, but
it will not lead to a change or waiver of principles on my part.

• The perceived normality of the majority will not sway me to that normality as my
normative value is derived from my personal convictions and principles and not
from the commonality of the majority’s.

• Vanities and idiosyncrasies of a derailed society which thrives on pursuing the

mundane will remain a mirage for me because it may be an ideal to others but to
me it epitomises the debasement of the rationale for living.

• Since I judge society especially the Nigerian society harshly as pursuing the
inane and the foolish in most particular respects, I should and I do expect the
judgement of society about my ideals to be so judged with a similar measure.

• As I mature in age, so must I strive to mature in wisdom! To this end, I must

pursue all things the wise do, which include being distinct and distant, staying
apart from the crowd, spending time in deep thinking, cultivating sobriety,
impacting positively on society, being useful to society and more than all
focusing on things eternal knowing fully well that this world is temporal and the
temporal things are ephemeral and of lesser value than things eternal.

• I will pursue a focused and purposeful life seeing that a greater part of it has been
used in growing up, and being grown up, determined not to waste the remaining
part of it on silliness.

• In order to understand the foolishness to avoid, I must take apart always society’s
common actions that give room to some silliness and stay away from such.

• I must inspire the younger generation to pursue some of my ideals especially the
ones that expect greatness from them and because of this I must continue to
aspire to greatness in everything I do. To me greatness is not about being
recognised by the world but about being excellent in everything one purports to
do, never lacking in integrity and in hard work. Never shoddy in preparation and
delivery. Always striving for the best.

• I believe in the Nigerian child and have a passion to get them to eschew
indolence and those very factors that have handicapped Nigeria from meaningful
development these past 51 years.
 On Life and its Many Facets6
Virtually everyone at one time or the other has had to ponder on the essence of life. I
know that I have. I have several times wondered at my very existence. Why am I here on
this side of the divide? How was the decision made to send me to earth? Was it the will
of my parents or just the will of the Almighty being fulfilled through them? I chose to
believe the latter, for surely the act of procreation engaged in by my parents did not
assure them of the features I would have despite the genetic contribution. I am very
different in features and characters to my siblings. I am a unique me. So definitely the
uniqueness must have been the handiwork of a superior being. So on getting to the
earth and seeing the many steps that must need be taken to grow and the difficulties it
was bound to happen, that several times in the course of life, I would have to question
the rationale of being forced to come to the earth especially as no one enquired prior to
the putsch for my opinion.

But it is the same quandary that we all find ourselves in. We are all equal in that regard
that we get to earth and have to live and make the best of the situation. There just is no
sense in crying over spilt milk as it were because cry or not, you are forced to live in the
world until the time appointed for you to take a bow off the stage. We will grow whether
we like it or not. Infancy will give way to toddler time and the terrible twos and threes will
pass, the kindergarten days will grow to primary and secondary and puberty will perform
its usual tricks on our bodies and minds and then we start the adult life where we now
are the real architects of our fortune and/or misfortune as we choose.

We will grow whether or not we like it. It is compulsory. Time cannot be stopped and so
the only allowance is whether we grow properly nourished or malnourished in all
regards, body, mind and spirit. Whether we grow to maturity or not? Whether we make
significant contribution or we remain mediocre all through it all. And this is where our
individual attributes and “take” on life make a difference. This is where our philosophies
either distinguishes us or sets us apart for nonentity.

6
Written on the 16th of December 2010
I am a woman of faith but not someone you would refer to as overtly religious. By that I
mean that I do not wear my belief in a physical form, proclaiming to the world what I am.
Just like in most things, I run against the grain in this wise. You will not see posters and
stickers in my house or on my car telling the world what faith I profess. You may even
find that I do not overtly talk about my faith in public especially in a debate, but I do hope
that many will be able to testify to the fact that I am a Christian from their interactions
with me. That is my expectation; that I shall continually bear fruits that let people identify
me as a believer.

I believe strongly that there is a God who directs the affairs of human beings. I believe in
salvation and that there is judgement as a fact. It is a simple thing that I can easily and
logically comprehend, that you cannot live your life as if there would be no recompense.
No matter how smart you may think you are there is always a point of reckoning. So I
watch others live as if there is no supreme being out there taking stock of their nefarious
deeds. Alas!

The platform upon which I practice my belief is that of Christianity and I strongly believe
in all the foundational principles and tenets of the Christian faith. I believe in the trinity
based doctrine of Christianity. Having said that, I also say that just like Biblical Job, one
of my strongest philosophies in life is epitomised by Job’s statement that “even though
He (God Almighty) slays him (Job) substitute for me, yet will I worship Him (God
Almighty).7”

With the constancy of Job, I depend on God Almighty and I confirm that though he slays
me, yet will I trust in him, (Job 3:15.) This is a high expression of faith, and what we
should all labour to come up to-to trust in God unreservedly that when things seem
totally abysmal, when adversities reach unbearable stages, when the world and all in it
seem against us, when it is an uphill task to take the next step or live through the next
day, when literarily though he slays us, we can trust and abide that God knows best and
he is with us and will see us through. I am thus well pleased with God as a friend even
when he seems to come forth against me as an enemy, (Ch. 23:8-10.) I must believe
that all shall work for good to me even when all seems to be against me (Jer. 24:5) for
this is the essence of my faith. My faith is one in which I must proceed and persevere in
the way of obedience, though it cost all that are dear to me in this world, even life itself,

7
Job 13: 15-17
(Heb. 11:35.) I rejoice in God even when I have nothing else to rejoice in, and cleave to
him especially when adversities threaten to make finding succour in him unthinkable. In
my dying hour I sincerely believe that I will draw from Him living comforts.

Because of the profound faith confession, I am able to face all life’s challenges and even
embrace them, because if I must stand on my faith then I must be able to live the faith
which promises that I am with you even to the ends of earth. I must be able to count
everything as joy, even trials and tribulations. Yes, there have been trials and tribulations
in these 50 years of mine and I expect more because God promised me that trials and
tribulations will come, yes. Make no mistake about that. God’s words are emphatic- It
says “when you walk pass through the waters, they shall not overflow thee, when you
walk through the fire, you shall not be harmed, for I am with you”. God said when and
not if. The Christian faith is a faith based on trust and belief and obedience. We will be
tested as Christians otherwise we will not grow in maturity as Christians. If we are not
tested, God has no measure to weigh our faith by. Those whom he trusts, he tests and
those who withstand the test and are overcomers he promotes even to higher work.

I have laid a foundation for this piece on my faith in God and hopefully this will explain
my philosophy on life. Since this piece is however not my biography (I have not attained
much to feel a compelling need to write my biography), I will not give details of
adversities that I have faced in life. But again it would be very unfair on God Almighty to
even think that the few anxious moments or hiccup moments I have experienced in life
have been adverse. They succeeded in just making me stronger in my faith. They did
not take away but rather added value to me as a living being. They made me into a more
humane creature able to appreciate all God’s children and able to be empathetic to other
people’s issues.

This then is my take on life:

Many say that life is a journey but I say that life is a road. A journey has a beginning and
an end, but it focuses mainly on those two milestones; the beginning and the end- the
birth and the death. On a journey all you are focused on is reaching the end of that
journey, but such a focus may be myopic or restrictive, it may make the traveller avoid
danger; turnaround from difficult terrains; fail to test his limits or fail to soar; because of
being overtly conscious and careful that the end of the goal is to reach a journey’s end. I
see life rather as a road that must be traversed to reach a journey’s end. I focus more on
the road because it is the way that leads from the beginning of the journey to its end.
The road signifies the most important facets of life, the twists and turns along the way,
the dangers lurking on the path, the hills and moles and valleys, the surprising corner on
top a climb, the cascading downhill rides, the crossroads which affords choices but gives
no indication as to which would be beneficial. The surprises, the beauty on the way, the
trauma and hazards, the unexpected accidents, the sad tales of accidents met which
involves us personally or which do not but touches our humaneness.

A wise friend and brother contributed this logic when I discussed this concept with him.
He said that on most obituaries the summary of a man’s journey is written as two dates
with a dash in between – e.g (Chief Obafemi Awolowo: 1909-1987). While these dates
are significant, what a loss to society if the life and times of such a great man is reduced
to those two dates when all the achievements are contained in the small figure-the dash
in between. The dash period represents the road the man travelled, the various things
that happened in his life and leave us with such wonderful philosophical insights.

Life indeed is a road. It is the road that you traverse to reach your journey’s end. It is not
just a journey. The journey is the end, which to all mortals means heaven. No one ever
thinks of ending up in hell.

With this view about life being a road, it is more amenable to discovery. Life’s facets are
the many discoveries you meet on the road, the contrasts and contradictions; the beauty
the ugliness of scenery, people and ideas. The insecurities, the excruciating poverty on
one hand put against the vulgarity of some affluence and riches of some people, the
man made troubles and the vagaries of nature, global warming occasioned by emissions
and felling of trees against tsunamis that rage unannounced wiping out people in their
thousand in the course of mere days. All these make the road less than boring and
definitely eventful and man’s ability to traverse the road and pitch his wits and energies
against opposing forces all make for interesting collision incidents. I have experienced a
few of these many facets of life. I will touch on some and some I will not bother with.

Looking back on life with benefit of 50 years hindsight, I see so many of the roads that I
have traversed. When you are travelling, you need a map and/or compass, today’s
technology has produced the Tom Tom (a little genius equipment that talks to you and
directs you to your journeys end) I believe it takes the fun off the travel. But luckily, Tom
Tom or none, atlas and maps aside, human beings still miss their way and have to
retrace their travel back to familiar terrain from which they would then reassess positions
and evolve new strategies to get on the right path once more. Sometimes when they are
lost, they need a guide to help them through some paths and sometimes the guide
misleads them, but one way or the other, eventually, most reach the end of the road and
can look back and tell the story of overcoming.

I have had one atlas and a few main guides through my 50 years sojourn. The Bible has
been the book of law and philosophy that I consciously have made my atlas and in it I
have never lacked knowledge and wisdom to traverse my road. At a young age growing
up in the Roman Catholic strict religious faith that was my mother’s and mine for a period
of 25 years till my marriage in 1986 to an Anglican, the Bible did not play such a
significant role in my life. I knew only the tenets of the Catholic faith through the
Catechism that I learnt in Catholic boarding schools from age 7 till age 15. The strict
adherence to catholic norms of worship brought discipline of worship. Mass was every
day of my life for the most significant parts of my life but the Bible did not come alive until
I started to go through some adversity early in marriage and remembered that strength
comes from inner convictions. My “religiosity” kicked in to search for and find that inner
conviction and derive the strength from Jesus who became my lord and saviour in 1988.

The Bible was and still is the most credible atlas. But the Bible also has given me a
guide on the road of life in Jesus Christ. I challenge anybody to find an alternative guide
that can surpass the wisdom for life that the Bible offers its students. I am an avid reader
of theology and philosophy and have read so many religious books but none of them
have the central theme that the Bible has which is that we have a guide to eternal life,
Jesus Christ, the way, the truth and the life. And the simple truth about Christianity is
that it is a child centric faith. You just must believe in God as a child with all the
innocence of that state of mind, where a child trusts unwaveringly. A child’s pure
innocence makes him or her to believe the words of adults. It is the same childlike faith
that Christianity wants to believe in the words of the Father, to love and trust
unreservedly that God is the one who leads through life; that we are His, the sheep of
his pasture and that like the good shepherd that Jesus is; He leads us rightly to the
Father. I can relate to this kind of love, because I have had a second guide all through
my years in my earthly father.
My second guide is my earthly Father. I have had a relationship with my father based on
adoration and complete love as a child when I knew not much wisdom. But as I grew up
I began to notice that my earthly Father had faults because he is human, but faults or
none, I have loved my father for ever which to me means since I was born and as he is
still alive still I love him and will continue to do even when he is no longer visible in
human form. I also have believed implicitly in the assurance of his love for me. My father
would never hurt me and would never lead me astray and he never did. Till today I still
have that abiding love. What were his teachings that have stayed long with me—the
value of hard work to life and possessions, the value of an incorruptible existence-the
value of training children using resources that are not tainted with corruption-my father
always said-no bribe money was used to train any of his children and so he believed so
much that none of his children would ever turn out bad and none of us did. We all
graduated credibly and some most incredibly indeed!

My earthly father is the Hon. Justice Rasheed Olabamidele Fawehinmi (rtd). He was the
first man I was introduced to and became my scale for measuring the essence of men. I
am afraid he became my measure for how men ought to behave and I am afraid that
throughout my life I weighed the actions of most men I met by my Father’s
characteristics. If you were lazy, then you immediately fell short of expectations, if you
made promises and failed to deliver on them, you fell by another notch, if you slept too
much, you were in real danger of complete obliteration from my orbit of respect and if
you did not persevere in knowledge and seeking to gain more, if you were flighty and full
of silliness, If you did not read intellectual books after graduation, if you were not neat in
dressing and in appearance if you were indolent if you were irresponsible and given to
lasciviousness, then you were not worthy of my interest.

I know that I sound arrogant in this treatise but since this is an attempt by me to
understand the forces that shaped my philosophies, I am giving myself as well as my
readers a peep into the world that shaped me. I admire my father even as he is now in
his 83rd year on earth. I admire his intellect and wit and his insights into wisdom of the
world. I admire the fact that he has a conscience, which stops him short all the time from
doing things that will result into hurt for his wife (my mom) and his children. I may not
always agree with his actions, but I always understand where he is coming from in taking
those actions. I always know that the actions are thought out and that they were without
malice aforethought.
I have also been lucky to have a third guide in my mother, that solid unshakeable
woman of faith and courage. Her single minded purpose has been her home as her
orbit. Everything about her life ever since I was born was to keep her home secure. I
learnt a lot of life’s wisdom from her. My mom has a quiet fortitude and steadfastness
about her and great dignity indeed. She was and remains a fervent fan of every member
of her family and the greatest champion of her husband. My mom when her energy and
youth prevailed was as fierce as a lion when anything or anybody threatened her cubs.
All life’s struggles and trials were taken as granted. My mom’s only weapon was her
Rosary and her psalms. Her foray into deeper prayer intercessions led her to embrace
some of the Cherubim and Seraphim (an influence derived from a maternal aunt of hers
whom we all called Mama Aladura or Mama Lawanson) attributes of memorising and
reciting the psalms but never once did she waiver from the Catholic faith. Even now that
my mom is aging and going through some tense health moments, her abiding faith in
God remains steadfast. My mom never talks about death, is not preoccupied with the
things that are not hers to decide, she still has the quiet fortitude that bears it all. My
mom takes her medication without fail, does not lament her many pains and just takes
on every day as they come with equanimity. My mom’s anger never turns into flames.

So these two earthly guides have contributed to the “me” that is known to the world.

I have had many friends throughout the 50 years sojourn, but most of them will regard
me as an enigma. I have regard for them but I am not overt in my affections. I am
extremely introverted when it comes to emotional entanglements and so many do not
understand this trait in me. I have a near complete aversion to socialising and because
of this I do not have a great many meeting points with friends. (More of my philosophies
about socialising later on in this book.) So many friends over the years have felt ignored
and abandoned and have in turn given me up to the point that hardly now do I even get
invitations and that suits me just fine. At 50, I have earned the right to declare to the
world that “this is me, just me”

I can be called any name that is not savoury and it won’t matter to me, but none of my
friends or adversaries would ever call me anything other than hardworking and on that
treatise I stand and with heaven’s assent on the day I turned 50, my God fulfilled a wish
of mine and provided a full dose of hard work to mark the day.
 The Barbarian Justice8
The Theatre:
Enter the “Righteous”, screaming in a frenetic manner. He has just been robbed of his
possession. The priceless jewel is a motorcycle, nicknamed in infamy by the people as
“Okada.” As the “Righteous” screams in the public place, very near a motor park, he
finds an “eye” witness who believes he can identify the thief, and off the officious witness
goes on an “Okada” in hot pursuit of the villain. The “Righteous” jumps on another
“Okada” and they both chase after the hapless villain. A mob gathers round the alleged
scene of the crime and ponders on what had occurred! The mob listens hard to the gist
of the story told to them in “vivid” terms by an officious bystander who witnessed the
chase but not the theft and the mob grows progressively indignant. The mob is made up
of “Okada” riders and jobless would-be passengers. The mob is here christened as “The
Righteously Indignant”.

As the Righteously Indignant waits, someone on yet another infamous “Okada” arrives at
the motor park with a tale that an “Okada” thief had been caught just one kilometre away
from the park. The Mob immediately adjudges the person caught as the thief and go
after him with the intention of doing him physical body harm or at worst killing him.

8
Written circa 1998
The next scene enters with the Righteously Indignant, already murderously inclined, and
all arriving the stage on “Okadas”. In less than five minutes about 50 to 80 motorcyclists
arrive on their “okadas”, each rider bearing at least one passenger. A mob of about 100
to 160 gathers at Golgotha, the place of murder. The owner of the allegedly stolen
“Okada” is overwhelmed by so much support. He is unable to talk, he just moves away
from the mob. He is so relieved to have got his priceless jewel back that he could even
afford to be forgiving. He suggests half-heartedly that he would rather take the man to
the Police Station. The mob is irked by his words, and threatens to deal with him for
being “yellow”. The Police Force is vilified in very strong terms.

The mob condemns the thief to death by roasting. In a twinkling of an eye, someone
finds an old tire, the man is overpowered, the tire is thrust via his head to his torso, his
body is doused with Petrol and he is set ablaze. The mob is elated and they scorn the
burning “villain” and continually add more used tires to the flames until the villain
breathes his last.

The place of the execution was at a junction of a major road in the Ikeja environs of
Lagos State, and the day was a Saturday. Commuters passed throughout the hours of
trial by ordeal that the man underwent. A long traffic hold-up ensued. However a lot of
the commuters would have been oblivious of what was happening, for the “Okadas”
formed a barricade of men and machines around the Villain. The place was just a few
metres away from a major Police Station, in fact an Area Command. No Policeman
appeared on the scene. A few metres away in the opposite direction was a police check
point with the officers busy at the work of the day, checking vehicle particulars and
watching out perhaps, for greater thieves than an “Okada” thief.

The next day brought awareness to most commuters. It was a Sunday and they were
confronted with the charred remains of what then was confirmed to be a human being
perched on some burnt up tires, some bones sticking out in a manner grotesque. The
commuters all go to Church and some are sad and upset at the sight, but some feel
some righteous satisfaction. Without benefit of information, they justify the mob’s action.
There were just too many thieves around and Nigeria needed so much to be rid of
rogues and villains. At about 11 a.m that day, some ringleaders in the murderous mob
return to Golgotha. They are still angry at the soul of the Villain though departed. So they
douse more petrol on his dead body, devoid of a soul and they burn him anew on
Sunday. The ringleaders spot a police vehicle approaching and in seconds they all
disappear on their “Okadas,” confirming that they were aware that they had done wrong.
Analysis

Did the Villain deserve to be murdered by the Righteously Indignant? What manner of
trial was he subjected to? Who ascertained that the Righteous actually owned the
“Okada”? Who were the witnesses to the theft and were their testimony subjected to
cross examination to test for veracity? Was the Villain allowed the benefit of calling
witnesses in his defence? When he was condemned to death by roasting, did the Mob
allow him an allocutus (a plea for leniency), did the mob listen at all to his pleas? Where
were the police as the inferno raged? Had he been taken to court, he would not have
been sentenced to death, because his offence would have been punishable by just jail
term. He could have become reformed in jail. Society may even have become happy at
his reformation. He could have fathered children that would be of immense benefit to the
family. Perhaps his act of theft was his first one? Perhaps he did it out of desperation of
hunger? No one gave him a chance of repentance. No one gave him a chance to live.
He was just executed by people who in more material respects were worse than him. He
was a thief, they were murderers.

The most pertinent question is this: What kind of renegade society allows such barbarian
justice? Note the use of words here. Barbarian justice as against barbaric justice.
Barbaric addresses the justice, whilst barbarian addresses the people meting out the
justice. Barbaric justice is justice indeed, as some would believe, it is just the execution
process that they consider to be barbaric. In this wise the consideration could be that
perhaps the villain should have been electrocuted, given the lethal injection, shot by
firing squad or hanged, rather than burnt in an inferno. The consideration in barbaric
justice would have been towards not offending the sensibilities of the citizenry. Barbarian
justice however, which is what concerns us here is justice of barbarians.
Remember them, the barbarians, they talk in thousands, the barbarians, they are
riotous, they are an epitome of confusion, the barbarians are. Remember what
Shakespeare said about them in Coriolanus; they are curs, ambivalent and vacillating
lily-livered beings who must work together as one with the strength of many. They do not
like peace nor care for wars. No one can trust them, they are neither friend nor foe, they
have no allegiance, none to their kith or kin or kindred. They do not even know who their
kith or kin is. They owe allegiance only to mood swings. They will hail today and crucify
tomorrow. The horde has been around since the time of our Lord Jesus Christ. They
were at Golgotha executing our Lord with their ambivalence and they are still around
keeping society in Nigeria backward. May the Lord save us all from the wrath of the
Righteously indignant unleashed.

Who can be judged right by barbarians? Imagine a scenario in which an infamous

“Okada” rider hits your vehicle from the rear and it is your ill luck that he and his
passenger are flung unto the road. Lucky for him and you that both of them are alive!
Who is vilified? Clearly it is you, after all, you are the deeper pocket, the richer party, the
oppressor. In a few seconds droves of “Okada” riders surround you and you are
adjudged guilty. No one calls the police, and no one points out to the “Okada” rider that
he is the guilty party and that he is lucky to be alive. You may be lucky to escape with
just being swindled of “settlement money” or if you are unlucky, you could get your car
smashed to smithereens and at worst you could be maimed or killed. That is the
essence of barbarian justice. Justice meted out by barbarians. Barbarian justice does
not accord to sense or reason. It is sheer non-sense.

Other questions arise: What ails the Police? What hinders the administration of justice in
Nigeria? Is it intellectual incapacity? Is it infrastructural inadequacy? Ponder a while.
Would more vehicles made available to the Police for use suddenly whip-up in them
sentiments of commitment to duty? It is doubtful? Would more pay erase the juicy taste
of “family support”? If perchance the police become efficient, would the judiciary and the
prison system become efficient? Will judges wake up from lethargy and start
adjudicating on cases with dispatch? One doubts!
The problem in Nigeria is not infrastructure inadequacy or inadequate remuneration. The
problem is in the character of the Nigerian and Nigeria. A people bastardised for long by
deceitful leadership cannot but take to deceit as fishes take to water. A total of fifteen
years of uninterrupted unscrupulous military rule has begotten a people without scruples.
A nation without NEPA (oh, I forget, PHCN) can only imbibe the culture of darkness,
which is the harbinger of all things evil and ignominious. A people without constant water
supply cannot understand cleanliness. A people whose hearing have been impaired by
constant noise of generating equipment through decades cannot but be hard of hearing
and cannot hear the still voice that preaches and offers redemption. Also, a people who
live amongst total chaos; disorder on the roads, disorder in town planning, disorder in bill
board advertisements, cannot admire orderliness and seek in anyway to be orderly.

Something must give in Nigeria, and it must be an attitudinal paradigm shift. Leadership
must change its mindset to that of accountability to its people. Education must be
functional and it must start again with moral injunctions and admonitions. We must go
back to deriving commandments and a code of behaviour based on fairness, equity and
good conscience. We must resolve one and all to make Nigeria work. We must question
the suffering we are all made to endure in Nigeria and reject it as not our lot. NEPA (yes,
before we address PHCN, let us go back to the root of failure which was not in ECN but
in NEPA) must work and water must be available to all. Our roads must be without rough
patches. We must re-create a nation where the rule is of law and not of barbarians and
where even the villain is entitled to his day in court.

The Villain did not deserve the self-conceited righteous indignation of the rabble. The
Villain did not deserve death by roasting, and we the citizens do not deserve to reside in
a society that does not value humanity.
 Uncle Bola’s Death and My Cocoon
of Delusion
It was well over a month after Chief Ajibola Ige, Attorney General and Minister of Justice
of the Federal Republic of Nigeria was brutally murdered that I wrote this piece.

Chief Ajibola Ige fondly referred to by many, as Uncle Bola’s was a truly remarkable
person. It took a month into the brutal murder before I was able to face the fact of his
demise. In that one month I deliberately refused to read the papers and listen to the
news for fear that my cocoon of delusion would be broken and the pain allowed into my
heart. Call it cowardice or delusion or some sort of escapism, but to me it was
therapeutic. If I refused to believe that my hero was dead, then perhaps he really wasn’t
dead and the whole dreadful drama playing itself out in the country in December 2001
was only a dream, which the nation would soon wake up from. (It was a similar escape
route I took to escape the horror of the ADC plane crash at Ejirin because my friend, an
air hostess had been on board of that ill-fated plane.)

But day in and day out the nightmare remained the same, it was still true that Uncle Bola
remained dead, felled by the bullets of some assassins yet to be named. My cocoon was
finally broken early in February 2002 as an information came that finally permeated my
coldness. My husband who had always had more courage than me on matters such as
this relayed to me that some high up authority in the Anglican Communion to which my
family belongs had said that; had they known that Uncle Bola belonged to the
Rosicrucian Group, they would not have allowed any of the funeral rites in his honour to
take place in the Anglican Church.

The dam, which had been caged in my soul, broke and I finally wept. I wrenched out my
heart and tears overwhelmed me for several hours. I managed to control myself
intermittently, but continuously the intermission got broken. I wept and wept and wept.
My own dear Uncle Bola! To be so disgraced! It was adding salt and pepper to an open
sore. A poultice to the tear in my soul. It seared my soul and scorched my heart. Why
judge him? In fact who could be his judge? He was so upright and honest and forthright.
Who can judge him I pondered fiercely, he was so fair- minded? Did Uncle Bola seek
any post in the Anglican Communion? If he had been asked whether he belonged to the
Rosicrucian sect or a secret society, he would have admitted it and argued his case out?
But I daresay Uncle Bola did not have to confront his secret society issue in the church
because he never aspired to be a priest or serve in the church. And he had no hand in
the planning of his own funeral, the Anglican Church itself voluntarily took on the funeral
of such a great man that they were proud of.

So what then can be said? Was the Anglican Communion wrong in its statement? I
cannot judge and will not make an emphatic statement. If the dictates of the church
forbids secret society membership from its adherents, that must be right in the eyes of
the church. But putting things into perspectives means realising that many people took
steps in the past they may not have been aware would lead them into bondage. Many
may seek to leave secret societies and may not be able to exit by the very nature of the
oath of bondage they would have subscribed to in ignorance of age. Christianity is all
about repentance and forgiveness and charity of spirit. No one can stand blameless
before God, hence the open door policy of Christ with the offer to all - that if we confess
our sins, God is faithful and just to forgive us and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

Putting the incident into more perspective, we can only mimic God on earth, we can
never judge the way the Almighty does. Look into the old testament and witness some
judgements of God on the enemies of the Israelites and you marvel at the complete
annihilation of some of their foes and take a look at the redemptive judgements on David
the adulterer and so many others in the new testament and you realise that the measure
of human judgement and that of God’s judgement are not equal.

I am an Anglican myself and I find that no matter what anyone may say about Chief Bola
Ige, he remains an icon I will forever be proud of and would forever also be honoured to
have known in person. Uncle Bola can never diminish in stature in my eyes. That was
the great man, friend to all, and one who truly loved humanity.

I remember how easily approachable Uncle Bola was at a small family reception held by
my big brother, mentor and Senior partner at Sages Consult (my office) - Dipl.-Ing.
Oluwole Komolafe for him. They (Uncle Bola and Mr Komolafe) had become acquainted
only through their love for reading. My friend, an avid reader of Uncle Bola’s column in
the Tribune had met Uncle Bola at a function in Cadbury Nigeria Plc where the former’s
wife was employed and had exchanged pleasantries with him after which their shared
interest in literature. Mr. Komolafe gave Uncle Bola a book he had authored 9 After this,
Uncle Bola insisted on visiting Mr Komolafe at work and later at home.

A few friends were invited to meet with Uncle Bola in Mr Komolafe’s home and I was one
of those who was so honoured. We had dinner and had a rare opportunity of talking with
Uncle Bola. We were all enraptured by him. He talked on various subjects, politics,
history, the military, Nigeria as a nation, the Yoruba race, family virtues, Christianity e.t.c.
I must confess that Uncle Bola was perfect. We got him to accede to contest the
Presidency. We believed so implicitly in him. Permit me to say that I had known Uncle
Bola before that day, he was my father’s contemporary and friend and he was happy to
be re-united to the daughter of a friend. I had also known him as a lawyer in practice.
Also I undertook my Youth service in Ibadan at the time Uncle Bola was Governor and I
admired him for his inspirational talks to the citizens of the state. I loved his ability to
speak several languages. But at the reception in my friend’s house I became an ardent
follower of Uncle Bola.

Let me tell you about Uncle Bola of that day. One young Christian zealot asked him if he
thought that non-Christians would amount to anything in the Kingdom of God and Uncle
Bola replied him this way? “I cannot judge people, only the Almighty can do that…. What
I know is the Christian faith and I observe its tenets, but I cannot say that the multitude of
Moslems and other worshippers of God through other means will go to hell. I cannot say
that…. And I am not competent to say that. I live that to the Almighty to decide. What I
know is people and I relate to them in that light. I love them and believe that there is
good in all of them. When they fall, they should be given an opportunity to redress and
change for the better. I believe in the ultimate good of all.”

I am not sure I quoted Uncle Bola verbatim, but this essentially is the import of what he
said. Uncle Bola loved people and believed that all men had innate goodness. That was
the Uncle Bola that I knew, the man whom all the people respect. Even the robbers gave
him honour. It is a known fact that they return things they steal from him the minute they
realise the identity of he who they stole from. That was the measure of Uncle Bola’s
integrity that no one wanted to offend him. The Uncle Bola I knew is the man who was
received with respect by the National Assembly and given a standing ovation that I have

9
Komolafe O- Sayings of the Great Masters of Wisdom
written about somewhere else. The Uncle Bola I know is the one who stood up in NEPA
and let us all know about the cabal in NEPA, which insisted that Nigeria must remain in
darkness. He was the ice-breaker in the intractable problem in NEPA. He appealed to
the peoples’ sense of judgement. Presented the facts to the people and endeared
himself more to them. He was not a failure in NEPA but a success, because he exposed
the cabal to us all.

Uncle Bola it was who even when he had been betrayed by the “Afenifere” and Alliance
for Democracy (AD) compatriots in the presidential nominations still continued to
campaign for the AD ticket in the elections. Let the truth be said, Uncle Bola was a gem,
a true pearl of the nation and his demise is a great loss to the nation.

I had always wondered why a lot of people included the phrase “the wicked have done
their worst” in obituary announcements. I had always had a cynical attitude to the phrase
believing that when a man’s time is up it is up and no wicked had a hand in it. With Uncle
Bola’s murder in the hands of assassins who pumped bullets into his childlike heart, this
was finally the time when it was most fitting to say that “the wicked had done their worst
indeed”. I played back an imaginary scene in my mind. Knowing Uncle Bola, who was a
lawyer through and through, he, would have sought to reason issues out with his
assassins before the bullets silenced him. He would have wanted to know why and who
wanted him dead and he would have sought to defend his views even at the apparent
risk of his life. Uncle Bola would not have pleaded to be spared. He would have insisted
on his point of view and would have left the assassins to their consciences. Uncle Bola
believed in the good of man and left God to be the judge of man.

During moments of intense frustration, I have often asked the Almighty why he sent me
to Nigeria when he conceived of me in my mother’s womb. But not once did I actually
despair to the stage that I wanted not to be a Nigerian. However, Uncle Bola’s death was
the first incident that made me think seriously of going abroad to live. I simply wondered
if Nigeria as a nation state had the chance of survival. Of course, I have again repented
of the thought of emigrating because no one should make me change God’s direction for
my life and since the Almighty sent me to Nigeria, I will remain a Nigerian till He calls me
to His bosom.
From the drama that played out in the Oyo State judiciary where the accused persons
appeared before a court which seemed so on the surface but was comprised of several
elements lacking of serious adjudication, it seemed obvious that Uncle Bola’s
assassination was politically motivated and we all know that such murders are never
solved in Nigeria. The trial ended up with no convictions.

The fact that the accused persons were set free triggered the death of Hon. Justice
Atinuke Ige (Uncle Bola’s wife) through a heart attack or a stroke, I am not sure which.
What an irony! That the lady of justice who served the nation up to the Court of Appeal,
and her husband, the Chief Law Officer of Nigeria, the Attorney General of the
Federation, came for justice in the judicial system of Nigeria and got injustice! What a
terrible evil has taken root in Nigeria. What a colossal disgrace for the nation.

I as a Nigerian have had no justice from the system. In criminal cases, all Nigerians
demand justice. It is different from a civil suit where only the plaintiffs (the individual
claimants) are the ones demanding justice. In criminal matters, the entire society has
been wronged and they collectively demand justice and that is why the suit is filed by
The State against (Vs) the accused person. When we, the people do not get justice from
the system, society has suffered further debasement and we all collectively have been
abused.

So what remedy is open to me as an aggrieved party in the murders of Chief Bola Ige,
Chief Alfred Rewane, Dele Giwa, Funsho Williams and a host of others when the State
fails to deliver justice. I can only resort to another kind of justice which if mine to use- the
justice used by my kinsmen from Ondo town, in Ondo State of Nigeria- the justice of
sending out curses on the unknown culprits and asking God to avenge the deaths of the
departed patriots. It may seem puny, but I am praying that our collective thoughts and
curses to them will go forth to accomplish what we want:

Let curses rain and abide with all assassins, all those who have a hand in political
killings and all those who are part of the planning and implementation committees of evil
in the Nigerian political terrain. Let them not find peace till they die and let their lives be
miserable unless they confess to their evil deeds and face justice. Let all those who
rejoice secretly at the death of Uncle Bola for their own political gains also not find
peace. Let God arise and scatter the enemies of Uncle Bola especially because they are
the enemies of the nation and of democracy. Let God arise in this nation and bring about
justice. Let God be the judge of all.

Some reflection on the Nigerian political

arena
What manner of people are Nigerians? Why murder your political opponents? How do
you ever feel victory when you silence an opponent? Who then do you contest against
and who have you tested your strength against? What kind of empty victory is won
against a dead man? Why must you serve a nation at all costs that it will cause you to
commit murder? What drives people to kill?

Final thoughts
Uncle Bola deserved the elaborate funeral he received. Period! Nothing should mar his
memory. I understand and appreciate the views of the Anglican Communion, but I refuse
to see Uncle Bola’s larger than life image diminish in any way by some actions he may
have taken sometimes ago in his life. Let’s face it, a jailed politician returned only
recently from jail and celebrated his return with a thanksgiving service in church and the
church joined in the celebration. Was that wrong? I dare say not. Even the father of the
prodigal son rejoiced at the return of his wayward son in the Bible. That is the essence of
the forgiving Church which Christianity is! What of that church which received the spoils
of theft in form of tithes and offerings and refused to return it to the Police despite
knowing that the giver had admitted stealing the money from his employers! So many
things are wrong. The world is jaded, I am jaded. We are all seeking to ascertain our
morality anew and standards of morality are changing albeit, sadly.

Uncle Bola I salute you and say rest in the bosom of the Creator who you loved and
emulated throughout your life with your permanent and continued display of integrity.
 It’s a Parrot and Dog Affair at
Number 13
(An excerpt of this piece was published in the Guardian Newspaper under Pet life- Dr. Tunji Nasir’s Column in 2010)

The House is called Number 13 and the neighbourhood is in Adeniyi Jones area of Ikeja,
Lagos. The parties are a grey African parrot named Serena and a white Samoyed breed
dog called Chelsea.

Prior to Serena’s advent, Chelsea the dog reigned supreme; the cynosure and delight of
all eyes and pet of a 13 year old female teenager and her parents. Chelsea’s fluffy
whiteness was a marvel to all and in total agreement with her looks Chelsea was dainty
and always managed to keep clean. She also had a twinkle in her eyes and a little bell
around her neck which announced her majesty’s presence long before she arrived any
place. All was at equilibrium until Serena came into their lives.

Chelsea could tolerate Serena at first because she did not speak and only spent time
squawking in an irritating manner. But all that changed when Serena stopped being
serene and uttered her first word. You guessed- the injury was first bestowed on
Chelsea because everyone heard Serena call her name “Chelsea, Chelsea”, and having
tried it and seen the commanding effect it had on the named dog, who jumped out
happily believing she had been summoned by her owners, Serena continued adding
insult upon injury.

Soon Serena learnt other words and one by one she called everyone’s name in the
family and even laughed the same way the master of the house did.

Serena became a strong supporter of Arsenal and joined in the lamentation dirge
whenever her favourite football club seemed to be losing a match. She also joined in the
jubilation screech whenever the club seemed to be lashing the opponent.

Serena quickly became the favourite pet. It was a delight to hear her mimic names and
do so at the appropriate times. A “hello” sounded anytime anyone held a phone around
her or was speaking on the phone. Once the doorbell sounded, both Chelsea and
Serena would start barking and it was difficult to differentiate their voices. The driver
stood in awe every time his name was called out as he passed by Serena-“Wasiu,
Wasiu” showing truly that Serena was now able to identify people by their names. Even
grandma was saluted with “mama mama.” The daughter of the house was called in two
different ways- “Desola” the way Daddy called her and “Daise” the way mummy called
her and it was said at the exact time that she passed by.

At number 13, the rivalry continues but Chelsea appears right now to be more mature
than Serena and she just ignores the infernal bird. She does not jump to her name when
it is called by none other than her human benefactors anymore. Serena on her part is
not in the least peeved that she does not command the same respect from Chelsea as
before. She has found other parties to torment and her newer favourite words include
“Iyabo” “Awox” and “Scamp”. The first two names are those of her owners Mummy of the
house and the nickname of the Daddy of the house and the third name is that of the
newest dog, a female Alsatian breed whose favourite delight is to gaze at Serena
longingly and praying for a mishap that would bring the infernal bird out of her cage, that
she may have her for breakfast or dinner.

The import of this piece is to advise all of us to take time out to smell the roses and
appreciate God’s many creatures so that our lives may acquire deeper meaning. Health
and well-being can be promoted by our choices and one of those choices is to have fun
with nature. The parrot is a loving, albeit mischievous bird, while the dog is a loyal friend
and ally. But the fun and excitement they bring to a household is un-measurable.
 The Nigerian Rich and their
Cheat Idiosyncrasy
One evening, I sat down to another time of reflection on the parody of the actions of
human beings. The pretentiousness of man is unparalleled. Righteousness is worn like a
cloak and it seems often that man proclaims to the world “I am righteous, see how
righteous I am” Man goes on to list his acts of righteousness and regales you with
instances where he gave to the poor and built houses for the needy. Man seems to know
instinctively what acts of kindness justifies him as being righteous before witnesses. He
tells of his contributions to the church building in his local church in the city as well as his
church in the village. He tells of no other contribution to any other church. The church
builder’s motto is that charity begins at home. Forget the fact that he the real motivation
is the desire for recognition from the people in the churches where he is known. It is
more difficult to be righteous before people who do not know you. The “righteous goes
on to give details of some launching organised for some needy cause or other where at
the event he contributed generously. In feigned modesty the “righteous” then brings out
the magazines or journals where his grand act of generosity is acclaimed and in the
greatest ironical display, he tells you that you are the only one who is so blessed as to
have the magazine shown to him. Na lie- he says that to every single person he shows
the magazine to, and he has shown it to many.

My eyes have seen it all. The average Nigerian “rich man” wants to be known and
respected by all. He demands respect from all. He cultivates respect and when he
believes he has seen some semblance of germination of respect, he tends it and waters
it to bring forth more respect.

Let us examine the characteristics of a typical Nigerian rich man. He is a personification

of acquired respect. The paraphernalia of this acquired respect are as follows: first, he
builds a house in his village, and then he gives a village chief some money for the
conferment on him of some chieftaincy title. The title bestowed on rich men range from
the sublime to the ridiculous. Imagine a young man of thirty who caught no whiff of war
in his entire life, (since he did not even witness the Biafran war) is named the Jagunmolu
of somewhere, usually some obscure village where no hint of war could touch, and
another is named the Ajagunna of somewhere or Apagun (Killer of wars). Some titles
deal with some feats other than war feats, they portray the man or woman’s importance
in the town or how high the King rates him or her. These titles range from Otunba,
Bobajiroro, Bobagunwa e.t.c.

The foregoing examples have been drawn from the Yoruba tribe of Nigeria. The Ibos
from the east of Nigeria have taken the gauntlet and have decided to “out” award the
Yorubas in the question of Chieftaincy titles. The irony of this is that history teaches us
(unless history is wrong or was written by the white men in colonial days) that the Ibo
society is an egalitarian one not given to too much leadership or monarchical culture.
Some (ibo titles) onwatiliora, nwanikeliora, Eze, Igwe, Obi Eze ego e.t.c explain their
meanings,

Armed with the said title, which ranges as I have said from the sublime to the ridiculous,
the rich man purchases a new wife and a new car, the order of the purchases may vary,
but these two purchases are made. Then follows a spending spree unrivalled anywhere
else except by people in the category of egomaniacs! The purchases are usually
wasteful, there would be at least seven cars in a rich man’s household, one for him to
ride when he is to be chauffeur –driven, another for him to drive by himself when he
seeks nightly pleasures in anonymity. There is at least one state of the art car for the
dear wife, two multipurpose utility cars for the household, one to take the cook to the
market and one for general errand running. There would be one great car to take the
kids to school and one driver or two devoted to this chore and if the kids are in several
different grades and in different schools then there might well be up to two cars for the
school runs. The kids also would have one “pleasure” car to be used by the teenagers in
University.

Cars are not the only property the rich man has a surfeit of. He has several televisions in
the house, as many as there are rooms and crannies in the house. He has a swimming
pool although no one in the family can swim. He has clothes for every occasion and for
no occasion. He buys and buys and just keeps on buying. The wife starts where he
stops and acquires gold in bars as well as trinkets, precious jewels are not excluded at
all. The children follow in the footsteps of the parents and buy all modern technology
they do not need and sure can do without, IPADs, IPODs, Blackberry, Macbook, Sony
Playstation, Nintendo Wii, Walkmen and CD players.

All these spending jamboree go on and on and the rich man does not stop at any time to
wonder how on earth the poor people survive without any of these luxuries. But forget
the poor people, and consider the life of missionaries like Mary Slessor of old who
survived the harshness of the terrain and culture and native traditions and barbaric
religion of the Calabars to bring Christian salvation and modernity to the ancient
Calabar. Consider the present frugal existence of modern day missionaries who still
manage to impart training and knowledge to persons in the villages with less than
minimum standards of living. Remember the Roman Catholic Nuns who give become
celibate and yet look after many children.

The Nigerian rich man or woman does not impress me at all, because experience has
shown that more often than not, the average Nigerian rich man/woman is a cheat. He
preys on the people. His riches are acquired usually devoid of honesty in all
ramifications. The Yorubas have this very apposite adage “Isale oro o l’egbin”. This
means that when you look deep into a man’s riches the beginning is never really devoid
of some dishonesty or insult meted out on him. To most rich people, money is to be
acquired at all costs. The end justifying the means and the means are usually downright
dishonest. In order to keep acquiring more of the same and perhaps to also retain what
is already in hand the rich man perpetually seeks to cheat even the poor. Let us take a
look at the life of some so called rich people I have had the misfortune of observing
although for fear of reprisals in form of libel suits I will not have the boldness of
identifying them by name but I will tell their stories.

These accounts are all hearsay because I did not experience them personally:

The first one is about an exceptionally rich lady, who works for an oil company and also
engages in business as well. She does not honour her words and conveniently claims
she forgot ever making any pledges. She regularly mistreats domestic servants and
delay workers’ salaries.

There is also the case of a particular rich woman or the wife of a rich man who did not
pay December Salary in one year to the staff until worker’s resumed on the 12th of
January of the following year and yet had a party during the period to celebrate the
home coming of her children from America. She had told the workers that she had no
money to pay salaries and the workers and their respective families had a very gloomy
end of year holiday while the rich madam celebrated in style.

There is a third account of another rich man I know who loves wines and is a
connoisseur of wines. He could spend great sums to keep friends entertained with these
very expensive rich people’s drinks but his favourite pastime is to owe workers their
salaries. He habitually owes salaries.

I know also of one devoted or should I say fanatic Catholic who goes to Mass every
morning. She attends the Holy Cross Cathedral Mass every day and travels at least 3
kilometres to get there daily. She would accuse her cook/steward of stealing something
or the other from her home. These accusations came regularly in the last week of the
month when salaries were due. The poor cook/steward would spend the next two weeks
defending his honour and his salary of course would be delayed during this time. By the
time there are three accusations in a row, the cook would leave and abandon some two
months’ salary. The routine would start with the employment of another cook.

Yet another typical “big” madam with her house help- The accusations were always of
theft and always towards the end of the month. Some of the accusations were delivered
with grandiloquence- She would insist that the house-help stole her curtains and her
spoons and cutlery (which she called crockery) and she would insist on using the
hapless girls’ salary to defray the cost of the allegedly stolen items.

I remember fondly, the Madam who would shop and buy “special” substandard fish for
the maid and yet in the same shopping spree, buy special expensive fresh fish for
herself and family. This same maid is expected to clean her fish and often cook it for the
family. She had a maid good enough to prepare a meal for the family but not good
enough to partake at the feast. Perhaps one tiny fish could have been given to the maid.
Remember that at the Lord’s feast all are equal.

There are so many instances that demonstrate the pretentiousness of the rich, that the
mind is boggled. I remember a classic one of a woman- top politician who had a
servants’ quarters that was vacant, but insisted that the house-help should sleep under
the stairway unprotected and without privacy. The house-help only got one meal a day
and such substandard meal it was. The house-help stayed on in such harsh conditions,
her motivation being that the politician madam had promised to get her employment in
the Civil service as a cleaner and she so desperate for job security among the rank of
the unskilled- waited on the promise and did her work so diligently until it became
apparent that the promise of the job was a ploy to keep her in bondage. Needless to say
it was not much longer that the prey escaped the predator.

My take on this whole issue is that the aged wisdom of “do unto others as you would
wish them to do unto you” is not understood by the rich man in Nigeria. It is nothing new.
It happened in the biblical account of Lazarus and the rich man, but remember, that the
rich man in that piece went to hell while Lazarus was heaven-bound. Alas! People just
are not given to deep thinking.

All those that are rich and those who aspire to great riches must stop to think. Where will
it get you if you gain the whole world and yet lose your soul. A wise woman, my
neighbour and friend Mrs Vynette Adesunloye once said to me- “I have never seen a U-
haul attached to a casket…ever!” Ponder on this if you will!
 Men are from Mars, Women
are from Venus10
___________________________________________
(Special tribute to Mrs Gertrude Ebun Ololade Fawehinmi at 70, and to Motherhood)

Sometime ago, while in a pensive mood, I sat down and reflected on life in general: the
typical philosophical questions came up in my reverie. I tried to remember a time before
my birth, when perhaps I was still a “thought” in the Almighty’s mind. “Shall we send her
to earth?” The Almighty would have asked and if the answer is yes shall we make her a
female or a male? And then the final questions would have been into which country and
earthly family shall she be sent?

In a typical lawyer’s way of reasoning I wondered why I was not consulted at all in the
decisions to send me into the world in the first place and in sending me as a female,
after all “let all parties be heard” is a fundamental principle of fair hearing. But you do not
question the wisdom of the Godhead, you accept his decisions and walk on paths
predetermined for you to tread. But the perplexities of life made me go into deeper
musing. What I have had to question throughout my sojourn in this world is the seeming
futility in having to tread the path of a life so full of trials and tribulations, pain and
suffering interspersed with occasions of joy and success. A life filled with inconsistencies
and uncertainties, of troubles and struggles, of great expectations but often times giving
the least satisfaction. A life of perplexing complexity!

A child is born somewhere and the world rejoices, unknown to the world that child will
not make the world happy, someone must have rejoiced at the birth of Hitler after all.
Another child is born in the ghetto and the world is saddened because he is just another
hungry mouth to feed, yet the child grows up to make the world happy. Yet another child
is born into affluence, he is cosseted and loved and grows up to be a great person. But
another is born into a pauperised background and he retains his pauperised nature
throughout his life. Such are the many facets of life, but I digress, for the discourse here

10
Written circa September 1999 and published in the “This Day Newspaper of September
17, 1999
is not on the futility of life’s struggles but about the wonderful specie that the Almighty
made and named “woman.”

In my musing, I reviewed womanhood and its counterpart; motherhood and I pondered

on the contradictions of the masculine specie’s perception of womanhood and his
reactions to her varied facets. Show me a man who does not revere his mother? And I
will show you a monster. In a survey conducted amongst a very few number of adults
around me on the issue; who they loved most among their parents, 100% of men chose
their mothers whilst 65% of females chose their mothers as well. Virtually all men spoke
so tenderly about their respective mothers. But the survey revealed that wives were not
so revered. I then pondered on this further:

Men love and revere their mothers, they adore their daughters and are so protective of
them and usually they love their sisters as well. The paradigm shifts when it comes to
wives. Wives are loved fervently before the marriage and then taken for granted after the
event. Then “wife” becomes beast of burden of matrimony, takes on uncountable roles in
the household; wife, mother, housekeeper (house-maid), manager, co – breadwinner
often and at times sole breadwinner, property maintenance manager, driver, nanny,
washwoman, cook, adviser, conciliator, whipping “boy”, extended family whipping “boy”,
“Woman Friday” and boxing sparring partner in an unfair bout. What I have often
wondered is this? Which facet of the female sex turns into a wife? Would the answer be
that wives are made out of men’s daughters, their sisters and that they are born by
men’s mothers. With the love men have for the other three, why are wives so over- used
and under - appreciated in our society.

Most women pass through the wife stage to become mothers and with motherhood
begins another episode in the life of the wonderful specie of human kind that the
Almighty made and named “woman”.

Joy heralds the birth of a child. The mother is tired after the childbirth but she is fulfilled.
Overwhelming love rises in her being as she sees and holds her baby to her bosom for
the first time. Unconditional love is born immediately. I have yet to see a mother who
really loathes her child. Bad or good, Mothers give unconditional love to their children.
But the Nigerian Father chooses whom he deigns to love amongst his children and more
often than not his love is conditional. A good child is the father’s whilst a bad one
naturally must be the mother’s, just ignore the very fact of his genes being very active in
the creation of that child. A child who excels in sports is suddenly a wonderful child;
forget that the father had pummelled him into pulp oftentimes for not attending to his
studies and for attempting to bring shame to his “glorious” name. Mothers also want their
children to excel, but they know that God in his infinite wisdom has given different
abilities to different children and they love so absolutely that they can find peace in the
fact that their children are happy in whatever job they engage in. A mother whose child is
convicted of a capital offence would still go on visiting him in incarceration and would still
care for him and seek to provide succour. She would have forgiven him and would do all
in her power to give him strength and dignity even in his affliction. The father would have
taken to his heels long before the conviction.

I do understand that I am seemingly stereotyping men and women. I know that there are
some men who truly love and have deep emotions and who express these emotions.
Such men express love to wives just as they do to their mothers, daughters and sisters
but I daresay that only a minuscule are on this side of the planet. Men with feelings are a
rarity in Nigeria.

Motherhood again and still more attendant hiccups, nursing a child from infancy to
toddler stage, then to young years and teenage and finally to maturity. But it does not
stop there, then the child marries and a mother becomes the loving grandmother and
takes on that role with gusto, invariably she ends up being nursemaid again to the
grandchildren. Most sons in Nigeria immediately their wives give birth to a bouncing
baby (I have often wondered why babies are said to bounce) rush home to bring
“momma” and once ensconced, “momma” takes on the role of nanny. Why would no one
stop to think about the life of toil women live? And when are they supposed to retire and
rest? Surely it should not be when they die.

Which finally brings me to the real rationale of my musings:

My mother is 70 years old today, Friday, the 17th of September 1999, and I have decided
that her toil ceases from now onwards. The Almighty has been merciful to spare her life
for this long. I will no longer be selfish and take her love and devotion for granted. I will
not rush to Ondo, in Ondo - State to bring her to Lagos every time my house- maid does
a disappearing act on me or when I am travelling out of the country. I will invite her to my
home at her convenience and pleasure and look after her like the Queen she is when
she is with me. I will strive from henceforth to bring her joy solely. I will not take my
troubles out on her.
Mummy has borne a lot for my siblings and I. She suffered injury in a car accident some
15 years ago that left her disabled in the arm. I remember Mummy’s fortitude throughout
a six or seven months’ stay in LUTH. I cannot remember her to have grumbled in self-
pity. I would have bemoaned my fate to all who cared to listen and those who did not as
well. Mummy had her disappointments in life but I never once heard her curse or regret
her life. She bore all with equanimity. Oh! The stress my siblings and I gave to the lovely
wonderful woman that my mother is; and the serenity of her composure at all times.
Mummy was resolute in her discipline. You were free to rant and rave and throw
tantrums but when all subsided, Mummy’s words were still there, to be fulfilled. She wore
us out with love so that in the long run you obeyed her. Who bought the goodies to take
to boarding house in those days? That was Mummy, Daddy’s duty was more to school
fees, Who made home -made jam and peanut butter and knitted all our cardigans so that
ours were always special? That was mummy and she is still doing it till the present. She
has just expanded her territory to include her grandchildren. Who makes home “home”?
That is Mummy. “Mummys” are made from wives and wives are made from daughters
and sisters who also are begotten of mothers and thus it goes on and on in this circle of
life.

Mummy, this tribute is to you today as well as to all Grandmothers, mothers, wives,
sisters and daughters. I read John Gray’s book “Men are from Mars, Women are from
Venus” and I agree with him totally. All women should consider this: Perhaps you have
been made at one time or the other to feel inadequate and insignificant, this is to tell you
that you are from Venus the Planet of love and beauty and that is why you have the
capacity to love. Yours is the better “self” and God loves you very much. Do not regret
ever having been sent to the world as a “mere” female. Men are from Mars the hard
Planet of war, the world is ruled by men and that is why it is such a hard world. Happy
Birthday Mum, and many more happy years to come.