Opinion I Ohakim and His Continuing Continuity Ambition

IF I WERE IN OHAKIM’S SHOES ...

        

The last time I painstakingly checked, 2019 which would mark another interregnum in Nigeria was fast approaching to the delight of the country’s teeming politicians, particularly their likes in Imo State. This implies that both the politicos and the electorate are currently warming up toward embracing the said era, thus can’t wait.

         

Though some of us who earnestly look forward to witnessing such a period may not be opportune to get to that point owing to the intrigues of nature, everyone seems not to be deterred by unfortunate contingencies. Aside the wants of human in general, which often occasion thrive accompanies with deep passion, an average politician in the contemporary Nigerian society is invariably ready to do everything within his/her powers to ensure that whatever his person so desires would be acquired by all means.

        

Lest I digress, though the preamble was consequential, this critique is informed by the ongoing quest among a few political stalwarts in the state to become the governor of the state come 2019. Some of us who are very close to the state’s political circle, and have been keenly observing series of melodramas taking place in the said arena, need not be told of the few Imolites who are desperately awaiting 2019 as well as can sacrifice anything towards ensuring that victory becomes theirs at the polls.

        

If I am not mistaken, the immediate past governor of the state in the person of Chief Ikedi Ohakim is one of these few individuals that are strongly warming up. It would be recalled that Chief Ohakim’s emergence as the Imo governor in 2007 was seemingly miraculous. His victory was occasioned by the lingered impasse between the then Nigerian President, Chief Olusegun Obasanjo and the People’s Democratic Party’s (PDP’s) flag bearer for the Imo gubernatorial polls, Senator Ifeanyi Araraume.

         

It appeared Chief Obasanjo, being the leader of the then ruling party (PDP), had vowed that Sen. Araraume would never have the taste of the Douglas House irrespective of the circumstance, perhaps as a result of what transpired between the duo when the latter was a serving Senator. This quagmire necessitated Chief Obasanjo’s adoption of one of the relatively unknown candidates for the race, Chief Ohakim who was running under the platform of the Progressive People’s Alliance (PPA) – a party founded by the then governor of Abia State, Chief Orji Uzor Kalu, thereby causing a huge confusion for Sen. Araraume who had better chances of emerging victorious.

        

Prior to anointing Chief Ohakim to wear the shoes of Sen. Araraume, although under a disguise, the agreement was that the former would decamp to the PDP if he emerged as the governor of the state, and consequently he fulfilled his own part of the deal when he eventually found himself in the Douglas House. Aside decamping from the PPA to the PDP, during his reign as the Imo State governor, it’s worth noting Chief Ohakim was making frantic effort to satisfy a few individuals who could be best described as king makers.  

         

Like any other leadership, it’s noteworthy that Ohakim’s was characterized by several social cum political challenges. Apart from the lingered court proceedings between him and Sen. Araraume at the political angle, which occasioned various distractions, the social plights experienced by him was one of the reasons that gave Chief Rochas Okorocha – the present governor – an upper hand during the 2011 governorship election in the state.

        

Though I’m not here to state his accomplishments and shortcomings while he was the state’s governor, it’s imperative to acknowledge that his four-year tenure, which came as a surprise to millions of onlookers, ended in an unpopular style. Despite his strong intention to continue for a second time in office, it was obvious that over seventy-five per cent (75%) of Imolites wanted him to take a bow, probably due to the misunderstanding that ensued between him and a Catholic priest which was widely politicized. In addition, the popularity of Chief Okorocha who was then his closest rival brought more pains to his continuity aspiration.

         

Coupled with the rumour making the rounds that the Mbano-born politician is still aspiring to return to Douglas House come 2019, penultimate week, one of the dailies confirmed the news. The information had it that, after due consultations, Chief Ohakim had publicly disclosed his interest to vie for the post of the Governor of the Eastern Heartland in 2019. Chief Ohakim who few months ago notified the general public that he had temporarily retired from active partisan politics, equally aspired for the same position in 2015 but never secured a ticket at the primary level, in PDP precisely.

        

One thing that is yet to be clear is the political party the man in question would be vying under. Is it going to be the PDP that failed to secure victory in 2011, rejected him in 2015, and that he chose to temporarily retired from barely few months ago when it needed him most? Will it be the All Progressives Congress (APC) that is already loaded with aspirants noted to be men of unquestionable character; in other words, a party where there is ostensibly no iota of vacancy? Is he going back to the PPA that he relegated to the background when he became the governor of the state in 2007, or considering coming up with a totally different political party? These among many more questions are currently on my thoughtful mind.

         

However, whichever party he may choose to operate under toward actualizing his keen objective, I wish to unequivocally but humbly advise the statesman to have a rethink as regards such an ambition. If I were in his shoes, I would never dream of aspiring for governor, or a second term, again. Not because he had been defeated twice at the polls – both at the primary and secondary levels – or because he is not qualified, but simply owing to the fact that his chances of emerging victorious again are apparently infinitesimal. Someone he calls his good/best friend might not tell him this, but I always stand for the truth and uprightness.

         

First, the APC has seemingly dominated Imo State within a shortest time frame. Secondly, Governor Okorocha seems to remain popular, perhaps as a result of the ongoing free-education in the state, which he has managed to sustain till date. It suffices to say that whosoever that would be vying for the Imo gubernatorial polls come 2019 under the auspices of the APC, or to be anointed by the aforesaid governor, would definitely have an upper hand at the polls.

        

Even if Chief Ohakim eventually decamped to the APC, there’s no up to 10% guarantee that the party’s ticket would be given to him because there are several others who had ab initio worked relentlessly for the party and are equally qualified for the position in question, thus it would be ideal he choose acting as a godfather concerning the awaited election. This is my humble take; I don’t know about you. Think about it!

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Opinion I Imo Poly and the Government's Proposal

IMO POLY AND THE GOVERNMENT’S PROPOSAL

      

 The last time I checked, there was an ongoing move by the government of Imo State to transform the state’s revered Polytechnic – precisely situated at Umuagwo in Ohaji/Egbema Local Government Council – to a degree awarding citadel of learning. The intention was solely occasioned by the present administration’s perception that the ancient institution deserves to be given a lift in all ramifications.

       

 If one says a lift well-deserved, he might not be mistaken. In other words, if someone happens to state that the government’s move is commendable, his opinion shouldn’t be seen as irrational. It suffices to say that the ongoing proposal by the Rescue Mission administration was well calculated, thus deserve applause. One good reason it ought to be tagged a ‘welcome development’ is owing to the obvious fact that Imo State is obviously yearning for additional universities, because more thousands of people from the state are, on a yearly basis, preoccupied with the quest to secure admission in a university.

        

However, it’s imperative to acknowledge that a step might be right but not in the right direction. Though the aim of the Chief Rochas Okorocha-led administration may be genuine and ‘laudable’, it’s pertinent to take some facts into consideration for the interest of education and the state in general. The about-to-be stated observations must be considered closely if the paramount goal of the said move is for the betterment of the Eastern Heartland.

        

It would be recalled that the citadel of learning in question was initially ran as a monotechnic for agricultural studies – then it was known as College of Agriculture – before it was transformed to a polytechnic by the immediate past administration led by Chief Ikedi Ohakim. When it was a monotechnic, it performed tremendously well in the area of agricultural productions and processing that everyone could attest to.

        

It’s mind-boggling that one would hardly locate a monotechnic in most quarters across the country. A monotechnic enables specialization, thus encourages division of labour, which invariably leads to greater productivity. But due to the quest to earn more income via the Internally Generated Revenue (IGR) scheme, every government would want to introduce more departments to an existing monotechnic, which can only be possible by transforming it to a polytechnic. It is the same quest that usually warrants transformation from a polytechnic to a university.    

       

But that of Imo state is relatively different because the state is apparently the only place across the federation where education is free ranging from nursery, primary, secondary to tertiary level. This implies that why the government intends to transform the polytechnic is ostensibly as a result of the compelling need for the state to boast of more functional universities coupled with other related reasons.

        

Whatever the actual aim might be, we need to note that polytechnic was invented for a particular purpose. The basic objective that informed the introduction of polytechnic education into the educational system was not unconnected with the rising need to have a platform that would technically impart academic knowledge to its teeming seekers. It’s pathetic that lately this very purpose had been abused in various quarters, not just in Nigeria but across the African continent. This is why currently in the labour market, holders of Higher National Diploma (HND) certificate are often discriminated by employers of labour.

        

Polytechnic was designed to go straight to the point when it calls for impaction of knowledge, technically, compared to the mode of operation of conventional universities. Hence, those calling for polytechnics to be scrapped, or elevated to degree awarding institutions, need to reexamine the reason behind the call. Rather than soliciting for such change, we ought to be more concerned about how to address the ongoing uncalled dichotomy between degree and HND certificates in the labour market. Any HND holder that’s employed in any establishment should commence with Grade Level eight, just as the degree holders are entitled to. Ending the lingering impasse is the only way to address the anomaly, and not to outrightly scrap polytechnics that’s on cause.

       

If the Imo government eventually succeeds in transforming the Imo State Polytechnic, that would create a scenario where the state would no longer boast of any polytechnic; such circumstance wouldn’t unequivocally augur well for any society that truly means well for education, and Imo is not an exception. So, it’s either the government jettison the move, or consider establishing another polytechnic for replacement without much ado. The latter would be very difficult, because we are not unaware of the economic challenges currently faced not just by the state but the country at large. In view of this, I suggest we keep this proposal pending till further notice.

        

Let it not be that I’m against development, but the fact remains that if any targeted meaningful development is channeled inaptly, it may end up generating crisis instead of the intended positive change. To this end, I’m earnestly and humbly appealing to the amiable governor to take a second look at the move. I know his paramount interest is to ensure that every Imolite acquires education with ease, but he equally needs to consider what becomes the fate of the state, education wise, if the anticipated ‘feat’ is actualized.

        

As much as I wish him well and good luck in all his lofty endeavours toward transforming the state, I would want His Excellency to sit down and properly digest this piece that candidly means well for Imolites and the state at large. The piece is only advocating that the needful should be done at all times, and at the right time. Think about it!

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ShortStory I Misplaced Priority

MISPLACED PRIORITY

       Sunday is indeed a great and special day in the Gregorian calendar. Little wonder it is not only observed by the Christendom but anyone that lives under the Sun. Hence, Ifeoma was not exempted from this reality. The moment the 38-year-old bachelorette returned from her church service, she was deeply filled with ecstasy that wasn’t unconnected with the extensive sermon she got awhile ago. It seemed the cleric deliberately dedicated the gospel to the unmarried congregants, particularly the female folks. So, as she arrived home, she couldn’t help but kept recalling every bit of the gospel as she graciously sat on one of the white settees in her lounge room.

       ‘Ify’ - as she was fondly called by friends and kin - a media entrepreneur who was very successful in her career lived alone in her mansion, thus the loneliness that accompanied the arena abruptly brought the other side of the said sermon. To this end, she was beclouded by mixed feelings.

       In his speech, the cleric took his time to let the singles comprehend that life wasn’t a competitive ground, hence, they needn’t judge their progress with that of others when it called for tying the nuptial knots. He admonished those who had despaired by asking them to desist from such ‘evil thought’. According to him, everyone had his/her own time to grab what he/she so desired. However, he went further to ask them, especially the spinsters, to step down their taste as they search for their missing ribs having acknowledged that most of them nurtured uncalled and inconsequential wishes. They were made to note that some qualities could be compromised, or better still, they could help their partner or would-be-spouse to acquire the features they desire. This was what prompted the ‘mixed feelings’ felt by the classy Ifeoma.

       As she soberly sat on the seat in her white suit alongside its skirts, she laid her right leg on the left one, remained thoughtful and looked too serious. Few minutes later, she leaned on the seat, maintaining her posture and countenance. Subsequently, she glanced at her wristwatch – it was 1:15pm.

       “Ikenna said he would be here by two.” She thought, hurriedly stood up and walked into her bedroom to undress.

       Ikenna was the gentleman in her life. Or, would I say, one of the men in her life. They have been together for over two years. The 40-year-old Ikenna had sought her hand in marriage but she trivialized the proposal, pledging to think about it. From the look of things, he was not the kind of man she wished to settle down with. She wanted a man who had made it financially; a man who could command money. Though he wasn’t successful as expected, Ikenna was a very promising young man, and industrious too.

        The response he awaited regarding the marriage proposal had taken too long, and was not seemingly forthcoming either. The suspense was really telling on him that he didn’t know what next to do. And enormous pressure was being mounted on him by his parents to settle down. He loved her to the core that he couldn’t imagine searching for someone else. He had called her the previous day to inform that he would be at her place the following day being Sunday by 2:00pm.

       At two O’clock, she returned to the living room in a casual and sexy dress, looking forward to having Ikenna’s presence. She waited till 2:30pm, still not any form of his image was found within neither was any knock heard at the door. Unlike her whom hardly got disappointed whenever he couldn’t keep a date with her, she became so jittery and depressed.

        It appeared the gospel she received few hours back had brought a change in her life unannounced. After all, human beings remained dynamic and could transform to something else at anytime. This is one natural idiosyncrasy no mortal can run away from, and she was not any inch away from such trait. 

        At 2:50pm, Ikenna’s absence was still felt. Hence, she thought it wise to put across a phone call.

       “Hello Ify!” Ikenna said as he took the call.

       “Are you okay?” she enquired tenderly.

       “Yes, I am fine.”

       “So, what is keeping you?”

       “I am sorry, dear,” he responded. “I can’t make it again.”

       “You can’t what?”

       “I am really sorry.”

       “You can’t be serious.” she said. “Are you?”

       “Like I said,” quoth Ikenna. “I am sorry.” He clarified, cut the call.

        She was shocked. “Did he actually cut the call on me?” she verified rhetorically, couldn’t fathom the scenario.

        She attempted to dial the number again but thought otherwise. Thus, she stood up, walked into her bedroom, quickly got dressed, and dashed out of the house. The moment she got to her garage, she fiercely instructed her gateman afar to keep the gates open, hopped into one of her cars and drove out. No doubt, she was headed for Ikenna’s residence, which was situated about twelve kilometers (12km) away.

        While on her way, she drove recklessly like one who just received the news of her mother’s eternal demise. As she frantically handled the steering, she could not predict what her fate entailed. In the process, she applied the throttle and brake indiscriminately never minded that the car possessed a clutch, even when its need was highly required. In less than five minutes, she was on the premises of Ikenna’s humble abode. As soon as she off the ignition having applied the brakes, she dashed out forgetting to close the car door, and walked furiously towards the entrance to his parlour.

        The look on her face could showcase that her emotions were really boiling. The black jeans trousers, pink T-shirt coupled with the white leather slippers she wore could equally feel the tension. Her conspicuous beauty had ostensibly faded. Even though she came in a car, she was sweating and appeared very exhausted.

        When she got to the entrance to the two-bedroom flat, she never bothered knocking, thus she harshly opened the door only to see what she would had preferred to see only in her dreams. Therein, in the sitting room, Ikenna was seriously having a good time with a certain lady whose head that bore plaited hairs lay on his laps as the former was seated on his 3-in-1 cushion chair alongside the latter who chose to lie; they were cuddling each other to Ifeoma’s utmost surprise.

        They immediately looked up to observe who walked into the parlour on hearing the strange sound, and got profoundly shocked the moment they caught the sight of Ifeoma. The lady quickly detached her head from his laps and sat uprightly; although she was yet to know who Ifeoma was, she apparently needn’t be told that she (Ifeoma) was her rival. Ikenna never imagined Ifeoma would consider coming to his place because she had never reacted in such manner before since over two years he had known her, thus her presence wasn’t just shocking but so alarming.

      What transpired thereafter ought to be a story for another day, so keep a date with us. Or, any counter reaction? Think about it!

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ShortStory I Shattered Dream

SHATTERED DREAM

      She had lain in her matrimonial bed few minutes back, felt uneasy. Right now, she had chosen to be on her feet, still struggling in her devastating mood. She had remained like that for over an hour, kept roaming from one point to another in the same room. Opeyemi, the happily married 37-year-old mother of two, seemed not unlike one who had been duly notified that something was wrong somewhere. Probably she was reacting to a mere presumption. The sparkling white pyjamas she wore could feel every bit of the emotional crisis.

      ‘Ope’ as she was fondly called had been in the marriage for almost eight years but her husband was resident abroad, Spain precisely. That was exactly the bone of contention. Her hubby Tunde who left about five years back, barely few months after she gave birth to their second child, was yet to return since he departed. The couple only communicated on phone, hoping to see each other once again someday. What else could the poor woman do than to remain optimistic and resilient? Not until two weeks back when Tunde’s unending phone calls that served as her only succour ceased to come. She was yet to fathom the reason behind the abrupt break in transmission having employed several means to unravel the forsaking mystery; none of his phone numbers was reachable.

       Few minutes later as she impatiently stood on the tied floor, her cell phone that lay on the bed rang. The handset’s ringing tone was one thing she longed for since it is the only way she could hear from Tunde whom had been incommunicado for almost fourteen days. Immediately, the tone apparently aroused her consciousness.

       She rushed the phone, glanced at the screen only to discover that her mother was the caller. She sighed, felt highly disappointed, and thus couldn’t bother picking the damn call. She fiercely threw the gadget back to the bed, but it rang again.

      “What is it nah?” she lamented aloud as the handset blared for the umpteenth time, then sluggishly picked it up once again. “Good afternoon, mum.” She managed to utter as she eventually answered the call.

       “Ope, how are you?” the caller, Mrs. Adeolu enquired tenderly, felt disturbed.

       “I am fine, ma”

       “Where have you been?” said Mrs. Adeolu. “Why didn’t you pick your call?” she added in a jiffy.

       “I am sorry, ma.” Opeyemi responded. “I was busy in the kitchen.” She lied.

       “Alright.” Mrs. Adeolu said, became relaxed. “What about your children?” she added.

      “They are yet to return from school.” Opeyemi replied, quickly glanced at a wall clock hung in the room – it was 2.45pm. “They will be back by three.” She informed with a faded voice.

      “Are you sure you are okay, Ope?”

      “I am fine, ma.” She answered. “Besides, why did you ask?”

      “This is not your voice, my dear.”

      “Mum, I am fine.”

      “It’s a lie,” Mrs. Adeolu insisted. “I have known you for thirty-seven years now.”

      “So?”

      “This is not you, my daughter.” quoth the concerned mother. “Please tell me, what is the problem?”

      Opeyemi calmly sat on her matrimonial bed. “Mum, it’s Tunde.” She notified hesitantly.

      “Your husband?”

      “Yes ma.”

      “What did he do to you?”

      “Nothing,” she responded. “Just that I haven’t heard from him for two weeks now.

       “Are you serious?”

       “Yes ma.’ She replied, nodding – the nod was significantly useless though.

       “You don’t mean it.” Mrs. Adeolu exclaimed. “Well, that is why I called.” She hesitantly chipped in.

       “How?”

        Mrs. Adeolu actually called on Tunde’s account based on the directive of her husband, Mr. Adeolu. The latter had earlier in the day while leaving for office instructed the former to invite their daughter, Opeyemi home towards discussing a crucial issue regarding Tunde.

       “I called because of Tunde.’

       “What about him?” she curiously tendered, stood up from the bed.

       “There is nothing wrong, my dear.” Mrs. Adeolu informed. “Actually, your father has a business plan to discuss with Tunde, but he decided to inform you first.” She twisted.

       “What business plan?”

       “He said I should invite you home,” quoth Mrs. Adeolu. “So you both can talk one on one.”

        The two families resided in the same city. Opeyemi’s matrimonial home was about ten minutes drive from where her parents lived.

       “So, when does he want me to come?” she said anxiously.

       “Tomorrow,” Mrs. Adeolu replied. “In the morning.”

        The following day was Saturday, so the 65-year-old Mr. Adeolu who was an established entrepreneur wouldn’t be going to office. He worked only during the weekdays.

       “Okay ma.” quoth Opeyemi. “I will be there in the morning.”

       “Alright, see you then.” said the 64-year-old Mrs. Adeolu.

       “Bye ma.”

                                          * * * * * *   

       “Ope, how are you?” Mr. Adeolu asked as he was seated in his parlour alongside his wife on the following day being Saturday.

       Opeyemi who was clad in a maternity gown sat opposite the couple. “I am fine, sir.” She answered in false pretence.

       “What about your kids?”

       “There are also fine.” she said. “They even wanted to come with me.”

       “You said, when last did you hear from your husband?”

       “Over two weeks now, sir.’

        Mrs. Adeolu shook her head, felt for her daughter.

       “Have you tried to reach him?” Mr. Adeolu enquired.

      “Yes sir.” quoth Opeyemi. “I have tried all his numbers but none was available.”

      “What about his parents?” the chief host rode on. “Have you heard from them?”

      “They are also worried.” she responded. “They haven’t heard from him too.”

      “Hmm..” Mr. Adeolu released a deep breath.

      “I learnt you have a business plan to discuss with him?”

      “Business plan..? Mr. Adeolu said, surprised; hastily looked at his wife who was seated beside him. “What did you tell her?” He queried.

      The wife was speechless, really trapped by the question.

      Opeyemi became very confused at the scenario, thus she was therein gripped by fear.

       The truth was that her mother twisted the reality of the moment when they spoke on phone the previous day, though she did it to zero her (Opeyemi’s) mind from any suspicion.

       From Mrs. Adeolu’s countenance, her hubby needn’t be told that something fishy transpired during the phone conversation, hence, he never bothered to receive an answer to his query.

      “Dad, what is going on here?” Opeyemi inquired, sensed unease.

      “My dear, there is no need beating about the bush.” quoth Mr. Adeolu.

       The moment he made the comment, Opeyemi’s heart stuck in her tummy.  “Is my husband alive?” She exclaimed emphatically, stoop up.

      “Far from it.” her father replied. “Just that, …” He added, stopped.

       “That what?” Opeyemi ranted, stood still.

       “He was deported last week.” He eventually informed.

       “What..?” Opeyemi shouted, subconsciously resumed her seat.

         Her mother walked to her seat and began to console her.

       “Take it easy, my dear.” Her father sympathized, remained in his seat.

        Tunde was repatriated from Italy over a week ago owing to a misunderstanding that ensued between him and a Spanish ‘sugar mummy’ he intended to marry. He resorted to settling down with her since it was the only way he could acquire a permanent residency permit. Barely three weeks to their proposed court wedding, she discovered that Tunde already had a Nigerian wife; hence, out of frustration, she set the dude up.

       When he returned to Nigeria, he went straight to his in-law’s residence, and they were the only persons that knew his whereabouts – although they weren’t told the actual reason behind the deportation. Since then, they had been thinking of how to disclose the matter to his wife.

      “So, where is my husband?” Opeyemi asked her parents amid convulsive gasps.

        Before she could finish the question, Tunde surfaced from one of the rooms in the house.

       On sighting him, Opeyemi hastily jumped up in tears and hugged him. He reciprocated passionately.

       As they hugged each other affectionately, Tunde perhaps kept wondering how he would cope with the days ahead since his dream had been seemingly shattered.

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