Opinion I Okorocha, Imo Pensioners and The Prolonged Wait

OKOROCHA, IMO PENSIONERS AND THE PROLONGED WAIT

        

The last time I checked, the teeming Imo pensioners who were looking hungry and weary were earnestly looking up to the governor, Chief Rochas Okorocha to do the needful. This set of individuals otherwise known as ‘senior citizens’ could not at the moment fathom what actually their fate entails.

        

During the last festive season, they were asked by the government to tender their particulars to enable the latter verify their eligibility. It’s noteworthy that the said verification had before the period in review taken place for the umpteenth time. Even at that, the hungry-seeming retirees never hesitated to do as requested, perhaps towards averting any iota of room to deny them of their individual rights.

       

Within the same era, the governor announced to the pensioners during their courtesy call on him at his country home, Ogboko that three months of their pension arrears had already been endorsed by his person, hence informed that the approved payment would soonest be received by them. They were consoled by his seeming fatherly words since they say a “hopeful hunger does not kill the bearer”.

         

Just two weeks ago, they were reassured by the government that the approved three months arrears would be outrightly paid to them as soon as the “ongoing verification” was over. The notice implied that the verification that commenced in December, 2017 was yet to be concluded as at February 2018, two months after.

       

What else did one expects from the retirees on hearing suchlike assurance than to remain calm, speechless and hopeful? It is obvious that only their optimism has hitherto remained their prime succour ever since the bitter odyssey began. If they have despaired at any time all these while, I’m afraid, the unspeakable would have occurred in their respective lives.

       

This is happening after they were promised in strong terms that their pensions would be paid regularly in full, starting from January 2017. Funnily enough, throughout last year, only three months were paid to these senior citizens who have sacrificed enormously for the Rescue Mission Government. Yet, they remain faithful to the government, probably owing to the perceived notion that only the number one citizen could determine their fate.

         

Acknowledging that those who meritoriously retired from service over five years ago till date are yet to receive their gratuities is enough reason to extend fathomless pity or sympathy to the people in question. It is apparent that they are not anymore bothered about their gratuity; rather, are only concerned over their monthly pension. It suffices to assert that they have inadvertently started seeing any of the above as privileges, and not rights; perhaps as a result of lack of immunity to fight for the latter.

        

Notwithstanding, this piece is coming from a different angle. It is informed by the compelling need to notify the governor that if adequate and drastic measure isn’t taken, these retirees might be dropping dead considering how hungry and devastated they appear at the moment. The piece is occasioned by the need to inform the number one citizen that these pensioners have been placed in an unnecessary prolonged wait, hence the need to expedite action with a view to averting doom.

        

Most times, some of these pensioners come to, or call, me to enquire the way forward or what the Rescue Mission has for them, believing I’m part and parcel of the government. Each time they did, I kept telling them that the government meant well for them, thus urging them to exercise more patience. I have been doing so only for the sole purpose of maintain peace and tranquility in the polity. But it seems they have started misunderstanding my stance or where I’m coming from; needless to say that they now see me as one who is against their welfare, or doesn’t care about their plights.

        

I want to use this medium to disabuse them of that notion. The least I would do or ever think of is to claim ignorance of their predicament. For crying out loud; their problem is glaring that only the blind could be pardoned if he claims ignorance of it. I have for the umpteenth time mediated between them and the government; such gesture of mine is enough indication that I sincerely care so much about their welfare. But as much as I truly feel their pains, as a stakeholder in Imo, I equally want peace to reign in the state.

       

I’ve in most cases made effort not to be emotional whenever I’m writing or speaking about the retirees’ lingering plight. This is the reason I’m immensely appealing to the concerned authorities not to push my humble pen or tongue to the wall; because if they do, the foreseen consequence won’t augur well for the entire Eastern Heartland, I in particular.

         

In view of the above, I enjoin Gov. Okorocha to please cuddle these pensioners toward giving them a sense of belonging. We ought not to allow them to feel abandoned or neglected irrespective of the circumstance. They should at all times be told, in practical terms, that they are truly senior citizens. Their patience has proven beyond doubts how much they love the government in spite of all odds, hence the need to sincerely cherish and adore them. 

        

The ongoing scenario becomes so confusing when realized that the Rescue Mission Administration was seemingly so keen to make the pensioners its beloved friends the moment it came on board in 2011. It would be recalled that the government outrightly cleared arrears of pensions accruable to the retirees within the said year.

       

But, thereafter till date, the reverse has been the case. How can we reconcile this? Think about it!

 

Comrade FDN Nwaozor

Executive Director, Docfred Resource Hub (DRH) - Owerri

_________________________________

frednwaozor@gmail.com

Follow me: @mediambassador              

    

ShortStory I Rough End (II)

 

ROUGH END (II)

         As time progressed, during Obiora’s second year in the university as the best student among the overall 200 Level students of Petroleum Engineering department, he vowed to sustain his current Cumulative Grade Point Average (CGPA) which was 4.75, with the aim of making his lovely parents proud just as he promised at the beginning of the journey. He continued with the tempo until he ran into Anayo, one of the students in the Business faculty.

        Anayo was a very notorious guy on the campus; it was only a new or academic minded student like Obiora that was yet to hear of him. The former who was a final year student of Business Management department was a member of one of the most dreaded secret confraternities in Spectrum University – the Red Vulture, and he happened to be one of the leaders of the cult; it seemed his eyes had been on the latter from the moment he was recognized as one of the best students in his faculty.

        That fateful day after lecture period – in the evening precisely – having been exhausted, Obiora thought it wise to chill himself with a bottle of cold soft drink and a snack in the university café. He wanted something that would sustain him till he got to his lodge where he could prepare a meal for himself, unknowingly to his person that someone had been spying on him all along.

        The moment he entered the café, the kingpin followed suit after a few minutes and sat directly opposite him at the white plastic table he was making use of.

        On his part, Anayo requested for a plate of fried rice and a soft drink as well. That was the first time he would be taking a meal with soft drink rather than beer, his usual brand; perhaps he never wanted his incoming prey to realize he was actually sharing a table with a nonentity or a party to a riffraff – a deceptive countenance indeed.

       “Hi guy!” Anayo cheerfully greeted as he began to devour the meal.  

        He was dressed in black three-quarter jeans, blue T-shirt, black face cap and white canvases. He seemed to be in his late twenties.

       “Hello.” responded the unsuspecting prey that was clad in blue jeans, green and white double-coloured shirt and a pair of black plain shoes.

       “Are you in this school?” He enquired in false pretences.

       “Yes, of course.” replied Obiora.

       “You must be a new student, I guess?”

       “Why do you think so?”

       “Because you look so fresh.” the fair in complexion and innocently-looking kingpin who was plump and about 5.4-foot tall remarked.

        Obiora smiled broadly. “You must be kidding.” said the slim, about 5.6-foot tall and chocolate-skinned young man who was in his early twenties, amidst the grin.

       “Honestly,” Anayo added. “I am not joking.”

       “Okay, thank you.”

       “You are welcome.” quoth Anayo, paused. “I mean, always.”

       “So, what do I call you?” Obiora inquisitively enquired.

       “Anayo.” he replied, placing his heavy right arm on his guilty chest. “But they call me Whiskey.”

       “They?”

       “Ya, my friends.” Anayo cleared the air.

       “Alright.”

       “And you?”

       “Okay,” Obiora said. “I am Obiora.”

       “That makes us brothers then.”

       “How?”

       “We are both Igbos, of course.”

       “Oh,” said Obiora. “You are absolutely right.”

         In spite of his dangerous nature, Anayo was undoubtedly a gifted clown. He had all it takes to win the heart of anyone that came on his way, and Obiora wasn’t exceptional.

        Obiora was yet to make a close friend since he found himself at the four walls of university. And coming across Anayo whom he saw as a saint, gave him an opportunity to mingle with someone he could address as his confidant on the campus.

        After their stay at the café having exchanged all the needed pleasantries as well as contacts, they departed for their respective residents.

       Within a few days of their first meeting, they became best of friends. Those who knew Obiora too well especially his course mates became overwhelmingly astonished over his abrupt relationship with a dude who was regarded by all and sundry on the campus as a ‘monster’. They couldn’t believe their sight; initially they were of the view that they were daydreaming till the friendship metamorphosed into a more obvious and inseparable union.

       While these scenes were unfolding, Obiora started declining in his academic performances due to the reluctant attention he was giving to his studies, which was totally contrary to his real self. In regard to this, his class adviser who had witnessed the drastic drop in his commitments confronted him in his office but Obiora lied that he had been sick and promised to improve soonest.

       After one month of coming across Anayo after severe and several persuasions, he made up his mind to join the Red Vulture confraternity. At this point, Obiora became a completely different creature socially, mentally, and otherwise. Little did his parents know that their cherished and only son had been transformed into something else.

       Unfortunately, or fortunately for him, the first armed robbery operation he embarked on in the company of the gang landed him into a big mess. The intended criminal outing, which took place at night, was aborted by the police on their way to the proposed destination. Subsequently, they were charged to court while in the police net.

        On receiving the information, they were all expelled from the university.

        Obiora’s parents couldn’t believe their fate. The rough end was the least they could imagine ab initio. After one month of the ordeal, Chief Okeke fell stroke in which he remained in coma for the first six consecutive weeks. 

        The rest is history, please.

 

Fred Doc Nwaozor

Executive Director, Docfred Resource Hub (DRH) - Owerri

________________________________

frednwaozor@gmail.com

Twitter: @mediambassador 

 

Opinion I Leadership And The Monster Called Blarney

LEADERSHIP AND THE MONSTER CALLED BLARNEY

         

In the famous and widely sold William Shakespeare’s play titled ‘Julius Caesar’, which was named after one of the protagonists in the play, it was the Roman dictator King Julius Caesar who disappointedly exclaimed in Latin “Et tu, Brute?”, meaning literally ‘Even you, Brutus?’ or ‘You too, Brutus?’ the moment he discovered that one of those whom wanted him dead happened to be his protégé and trusted ally in the person of Marcus Brutus.

        

The last time I checked, the reign of several well celebrated leaders in the past was truncated owing to the invariable insincere gestures or eulogies showcased by most of those they recognized as their friends or brothers, as may be the case. This is the reason any leader who actually intends to excel must be extremely conscious of such societal lifestyle commonly known as sycophancy which I invariably addressed as a monster.

         

In any leadership setting or in life generally, there are factors that tend to be symbiotic. Among them are tyranny and sycophancy which pervade every level of governance. The combination of the two aforementioned phenomena, which are dangerous to both institutions and countries, makes any leader blind to even conspicuous pitfalls thereby making them seem miserable if they eventually fell.

        

There are two major classes of sycophants, namely: genuine sycophants and mercenary or fake sycophants. The former have inexhaustible capacity to be ‘happy slaves’ and to demean themselves in favour of the master. Somehow, suchlike individuals or followers are at best Spartan-like in the sense that they do not feel the pain inflicted on them and liable to be dehumanized both morally and mentally.

         

Instead, they feel the pain for the master, claiming that they are the master’s ‘shock absorber’, and usually struggle to take pleasure at the suffering of those who incur the wrath of any ongoing bad governance. In most occasions, they are likely to be more unfriendly or cruel than the master. This set of sycophants would always make effort to defend the interest of the boss regardless of the situation at hand.

         

On the contrary, the mercenary ones are dangerous to the leader unknowingly to him, and they often play a very vital role in the day-to-day running of the affected administration. They equally possess the ability to play the ‘happy slaves’ role successfully, appear to demean themselves, pretend not to possess minds of their own, and unabatedly wear a happy physiognomy façade while sulking internally.

        

A fake sycophant is no doubt skilful in warming his/her way into the bosom of the boss by studying closely the weaknesses of the system and that of the master. Such an individual or so-called ally has no scruples; rather, he/she is Machiavellian. He definitely knows how to acquire access to power by ingratiating himself with the leader via grant of an assortment of bribery or gratification to the right people, flatteries, organized accusations against well-meaning followers or citizens as well as unconditional shedding of crocodile tears.

        

Furthermore, a mercenary sycophant is relentlessly very intelligent and clever in playing victim and shifting blames. He is so skilled in manufacturing cum painting of misleading services that the leader is often bamboozled by his purported loyalty. Such a follower capitalizes any opportunity to betray the trust and overthrow the leader. In other words, as such follower carries out or discharges his duties on a daily basis, he endlessly looks forward to discovering or creating a loophole that would serve as an advantage to his sinister motive.

        

The paramount challenge to any leader who wishes to have sycophants is to distinguish between genuine and fake ones. However, the bone of contention remains that harbouring sycophants is even more detrimental to the leader in question than to the teeming followers, irrespective of the circumstance. Hence, there’s no gain reiterating that any sycophant, if discovered, deserves to be discarded without much ado because they are all useless.

         

In most occasions, you would notice that these sycophants are allies who usually appear to be extremely hardworking and creative, but realistically they are doing virtually nothing. They often use noisemaking or exaggeration to create awareness thereby luring unsuspecting followers into their net.    

        

It’s noteworthy that sycophancy or undue praise-singing, which is arguably the willing undertaker of any country’s socio-political lost glory, seems to be taking an institutional presence or recognition in Nigeria at large, particularly on the country’s political platform.

       

Isn’t it preposterous to see able-bodied citizens, even the old, singing and dancing in praise of somebody who has only succeeded in impoverishing his followers in the name of ‘leadership’ or consorting people’s aspirations to chisel his/her self aggrandizement?

         

In Nigeria today, such manner of nauseous lifestyle takes place with an embarrassing frequency, yet nobody ostensibly cares to even acknowledge the colossal menace let alone discussing it. Funnily enough, most leaders have the impetus to gloat about the unsavoury and inglorious idiosyncrasy, even in a public sphere.

        To be continued!

        

Comrade Fred Doc Nwaozor

Executive Director, Docfred Resource Hub (DRH) - Owerri

__________________________________

frednwaozor@gmail.com

Twitter: @mediambassador