Tonight, I'm going to challenge all you learnt in Elementary History class. They told you my sagacious name sake, Oluwole Akinwande Soyinka, was the first Nigerian to win the much coveted Nobel Prize, didn't they? They lied!
Before you begin to cast and bind me in tongues, keep your hair on and let me explain.
First off, I'd like to quickly site a caveat at this juncture. That I will be airing my thoughts on recent happenings in Nigeria's political stratosphere does not by any means or measure mean I have reneged on my vow to my loving parents to steer clear of the political 'higgi hagga' beleaguering the nation. I simply found last weekend particularly amusing so I decided it was worth a few minutes of my time and reflection.
Last weekend, the good and voraciously learned people of Ekiti State, filed out in droves to exercise their electoral rights. It was supposedly a keenly contested battle between two or three men with varying arsenals. Ultimately, a winner emerged after all the machinations and shenanigans that usually pervade Nigerian elections. Personally, I couldn't really be bothered who won. I have no direct or remote ties to Ekiti so their direction for the next four years isn't really my business. I was more intrigued by the politicking and how each candidate went about his campaign, especially on the final day.
While the incumbent strutted around town speaking impeccable Queen's English, the eventual winner had his polo shirt collar turned up dancing to Saheed Osupa with the electorates. The picture on the left is quite self-explanatory. Prospective voters on a queue bearing small bags of rice clearly marked with an umbrella and 'Ayo'. In a country where civil servants earn less than 18,500naira monthly, this remains the most sensible way of winning a 'free and fair' election.
Imagine walking down a newly tarred road with functional solar-powered street lights with 400naira in your pocket. You've not had breakfast, brunch or lunch and sincerely, you are not quite certain yet where supper will come from. Then, some fellow with a megaphone shouts like John The Baptist in the wilderness.
'Come all ye that are hungry and own voter's cards
Come all ye that are heavily laden with poverty and seek awoof rice'
Now, your pregnant wife is at home waiting for money for soup. Your kids in the local primary school are going to eat just as they will take some break-time money the next day. Your gastric acids are still and slowly eating away the linings of your stomach as there's no substrate to work on. You can tell by the worsening heartburns in your lower chest. All this and all you have in your pocket are four miserably weather-bitten 100naira notes. It is only the 21st of June and you are not likely to be 'transfused' until the beginning of July. Then, the incongruous sound bellows from the megaphone again and you stop in your tracks as you remember you had acquired a voter's card a few weeks before. The gods have smiled on you!
So, you scurry into the queue and you're handed a 15kg bag of rice with a promise of an extra 2000naira in cash if you 'put ya thumb on the umblella'[sic]. Explain to me how Ayo Fayose won't win.
What does all this have to do with the distinguished Albert Einstein you wonder? The man was a genius and even posthumously, he lends wise counsel to the PDP. He said and I quote: 'An empty stomach is not a good political adviser'. Absolute genius!
Apt! If you've ever heard truer words or anything more 'Nigerian' than that, then please be kind enough to let me know. Politics in Nigeria is peculiar and must be handled deftly. You must solve the problems that are relevant to your people. What's the point of sending a village filled with bald men a truckload of combs? A true and worthy leader must connect with his primary constituency. How the incumbent missed such a salient point befuddles me. It is not enough to have lens-friendly gap-teeth or have the diction of Shakespeare. Have your people eaten today? How many of them now eat three times a day since you assumed office as Governor? Twitter and Facebook do not translate to ballot papers and votes. How many of these electorates are even using social media? No be who chop belleful go sabi tweet, follow or poke?
Any leader who fails to address 'bellenomics' of his people isn't worthy to lead. Ask Moses the utterances his beloved Isrealites directed at him when they ran out of food during their sojourn through the wilderness. Hunger breeds rebellion very quickly.
Hunger and hypoglycemia are not respecters of person, gender, colour, religion, age or command of English language.
So you see, the annals of History misguided you all. Albert 'Oladimeji' Einstein beat Wole Soyinka to the Nobel Prize.
The man was simply a visionary!
I was seated at my desk in the consulting room some weeks ago feeling sorry for myself as usual. I always thought my job was crappy. Having said that, as irksome as the job is, some days just take you aback. You are never quite prepared for some things. Even medical school does not teach you or prepare you.
The picture above isn't 'photoshopped'. I don't even know how to use that software. The picture was taken with my 'chinko' Tecno phone. It actually looks better here than it did looking at it physically. Maybe because I had to see the whole face and the pain in her eyes. Just another day at the office I guess.
No. She wasn't by a truck. Neither was she attacked by Godzilla. Her 'boo' did this to her.The man who swore before God to protect her with everything that was his own. With every pint of blood in his body. I'm sure the cleaner is still packing pieces of my jaw from the floor after I saw this lady walk in.
Interestingly, she's not the first patient I've seen with such vile battering. Maybe she fits right up there sha in terms of extent and severity. I also believe it is because of the demographics of where I work. Waywardness isn't particularly a big deal in that 'zanga'. I'm referring specifically to male waywardness in this case.
I wasn't particularly sure what advice to give this lady. More bizarrely, she came in with her young son who I presume witnessed the debacle first-hand. That was even more worrisome and I will try to explain why.
I was ashamed that the creature that did this and I belonged to the same gender. I was ashamed that I had to listen to a lady refer to him as a 'husband'. I was ashamed that the little boy seated opposite me holding his mother's hand would get home and call him 'daddy'. So, I quickly switched to the studious-emotionally detached doctor mode. Deciding to stick to treating her physical symptoms promptly and letting her go before I vocalized the curses flying through my mind.
This isn't love. It never was and it will never be. I can understand what it does to a human being's psyche on many different levels. Especially to the little chap who had to see the callousness dished out to his mother by the man entrusted with her care. The boy becomes emotionally confused. His father-figure imprints values on him. Does battery now signify love? If Daddy loves Mummy so much, is this how he should express it? Mummy still ends up cooking him dinner anyway, so maybe it's love after all.
I tended to her sores and bruises. Besides the haematomas and contusions she luckily didn't have any overtly grave damage, at least physically. Emotionally however, she was probably in a morgue already. Lifeless and thoroughly embalmed. She was trapped. By a spouse that would make even Lucifer cringe. By a society that condones idiocy and hypocrisy. By a tradition that frowns at liberation in the name of 'for the sake of my children'. And possibly by a religion that permits dissolution of a union only on the basis of infidelity. She died a long time ago. The feeling of entrapment just ensured any attempts at resurrection were futile.
I didn't advice her to break her home if that's what you are thinking. I'm a doctor and not a marriage counsellor. I explained that her wounds were superficial but they could have been worse. I explained that she'd heal within a couple of days but could be longer if the injuries had been worse. I explained what the prescribed medication would do and how the pain would wane. I may have also chipped in somewhere that only the living can take care of kids sha. I really can't recall now.
I happen to have three very beautiful and intelligent sisters. Each one has a special place in my heart and I doubt very much that I'd trade any of them for anything in the world. This abused lady is someone's sister also I figure. If, by commission or omission, any man, tall or short, yellow or black, does this to any of my own, I will go after him. He won't be killed. That would be too kind. He will be left with 'reminders' of the day his hand slipped. I will quickly assume he's physically challenged and see to it that he understands and appreciates his disability. Make of it what you want.
Our reality today is that wife battery is living with us in Nigeria. Even if it remains grossly under-reported. It is a value passed on from generation to generation. From father to son. Your father probably beat your mum so it doesn't seem so bad to you. Some were however raised better. Their fathers treated their mothers like Queens and inculcated it into their sons, directly or subconsciously. I'm not even talking about chivalry. I'm talking about simple old self-control. But, it's not to late to 'unlearn' it. That your father towed that path doesn't condemn you also to that line of living. You can choose to be a better man. Surely!
A woman will annoy you Sir. That's just how they are wired. Didn't you grow up with girls? If they were annoying then, why do you think they won't be as adults. You thought they'd outgrow it? Did you outgrow peeing while standing? No! So, let them be. No devil pushed you Sir. You are simply the devil himself. There is no excuse as long as your house has walls. When you are pushed, RUN AWAY and face the wall. Punch it till your knuckle bleeds. That same woman will help you put some TCP on it and some ice possibly before your dinner.
Women need to understand that it starts one day. The biggest infernos were started by a single spark. The man that slapped you today will kick-box you in five years. Do not ever assume it was something you did or said. Never try to justify it. Never try to rationalize it either. The man should have self-control no matter what. The Bible tells us we are never presented with temptations greater than we can handle. We are also reminded in Proverbs that like a city with broken down walls so is a man who lacks self-control.
Something needs to give. Our health system must incorporate effective social welfare services where women like this can run to for refuge. A system where justice is fast and painful for men who do things like this. A jail term in a zoo seems appropriate in my opinion. Ensure he gets the point that he does not belong among humans. Put him in a solitary confinement next to orangutans and wild dogs for a couple of years.
I understand the wives will say they've forgiven him because 'love forgives'. I'm happy for you for that. But at least let him do the time. When he comes out you can make up for lost time.
Love ko. Love ni.
