Now, where was I?

If you don’t raise your eyes, you’ll think you’re at the highest point.

Antonio Porchia 

The last time I wrote on this page was in February of 2017, a little over three years ago. My place was taken by excellent and capable hands, I almost feel I have to start from the scratch. To be honest, I gave a lot of thought to resuming writing a column in a paper like Daily Trust, a medium with access to the best, and an enviable standing carved out of very high standards of professionalism and courage. I have also worried over whether one has much to contribute in a situation that requires fresh insights into old and new issues in our country. I am grateful to Daily Trust for settling my doubts with the opportunity to test whether fading voices can still be heard in the din over where the country is, or should be heading. Please allow me a minute to speak about myself.

I have been quite busy acquiring new experiences and finding out how wrong I have been regarding many things. I spent a little over two years in the National Assembly working as Chief of Staff to President of the Senate and leader of the federal legislature, Senator Abubakar Bukola Saraki, CON. This was a moment of great learning and rewarding service. After 23 years at senior levels of state and federal of public service, ten of which I served as federal permanent secretary, I thought I was done with public service. Actually I thought I had become a politician. I was, but I stretched the label beyond my comfort zone.

I thought there was little to contribute to the legislature and its bureaucracy, particularly one that we from the executive side, in my days at least, had learned to hesitate before answering its greeting of  “good morning”. I was part of an excellent team of legislative aides of the Senate President who worked with a few  of the finest Nigerian politicians, and many that really had no business being  near public trust. I discovered a core of highly competent bureaucrats of the legislature with visible scars from managing a vital institution run by politicians torn between instant gratification and the faithful exercise of mandates.

It was a tremendous opportunity to see up close, the federal legislature in all its splendour and odium. Senator Saraki is quite possibly the most intelligent principal I had to work with, with an amazing instinct for opportunities and the energy to chase them. On a number of occasions, as few people who have had these qualities have realized, he came unstuck. His leadership of the 8th Senate with his colleague, Rt. Hon Yakubu Dogara, produced the most productive federal legislature, against incredible odds. Their leadership did not change the basic perception of the legislature as the nation’s pampered sponge, but it  showed the promise of a fledgling arm of government  living up to the task of legislating and making the difference between democracy and dictatorship.

The most profound insight for me was the damaging perversion of a political system which places huge powers in hands of powerful people with which they pursued personal goals. If Saraki and Dogara and President Buhari had worked well as a team from the same party committed to raising the bar on good governance, a lot more could have been achieved between 2015 and 2019.For someone who grew up thinking there is always only one goal in politics, which is to improve the lot of the citizen, I am still asking who won the battles  that wasted a huge potential to do better by an APC administration between 2015 and 2018.

I must have tasked my boss’s patience to no end, because I was also deeply involved in another strand of politics, one that gave me a little more room for self-expression. I renounced my membership of the APC long before the exodus that preceded the 2019 elections, a difficult decision (in retrospect, fueled by some pronounced naivety) in the hope that it will serve to slow down the administration’s tendency to be comfortable with poor results. I was part of the Northern Elders Forum, a group that threw everything into the ring to help give Buhari victory in 2015, and ended his first term with a noisy denunciation of his management of the economy and national security, particularly as they affected the North. I had a less visible role than I had in 2015 in the build-up to 2019, but I was active in a group that thought it could work to affect  an orderly and thorough leadership change. The results said we failed. My boss lost his re-election contest and a major chunk of a formidable legacy. I lost a job and moved on a lot wiser.

I refreshed some knowledge and resumed teaching, a vocation always had a passion for. I am now  actively teaching in a number of universities, and I am active in a number of humanitarian concerns and advising on conflict resolution. It is very difficult to be a silent observer in Nigeria today. I have been fortunate to be part of groups that insist on raising voices when damning evidence of failures in leadership and governance numb the citizenry.

Now I resume writing a column in the face of the most serious combination of circumstances that make even the clearest of minds difficult to express or comprehend. What can one say about COVID-19 that has not been said?  I am afraid there is a lot to be said, principally that this is not the time to make excuses for weaknesses in our responses. The death of Malam Abba Kyari, (may Allah  accept  his Shahada) is a major setback for President Buhari’s administration, which would not have won prizes for thinking on its feet in the first place. A major pillar, indeed the backbone of the administration, has left at precisely the moment a calm, focussed anchor with huge responsibilities and influence around the President is needed. Friends of this administration and lovers of Nigeria will hope that President Buhari will be motivated to turn Malam Abba’s death as a trigger to revamp his administration, take firmer control and lead with greater resolve. At all cost, the nation must not operate at lower than current levels of efficiency and competence. Lockdowns of populations and places are important in limiting spread of this pandemic. A governance lockdown at the Presidency will be disastrous, the very thing this pandemic needs to destroy a country that is its ideal setting for maximum damage.

Navigating around this pandemic with dwindling resources and rising demands for fresh funding from all corners will challenge the Buhari administration. It will be tragic not to assume that the country will see a lot more damage from this pandemic. It is vital that leadership is kept on its toes and supported as we all deal with a disaster that cannot be defeated unless everyone is involved. It could very well be the case that the country is scraping the bottom of the barrel in terms of its savings and incomes, but we can still deploy our best assets in good and honest management of resources to design response strategies that will limit the damage. We need imaginative and bold policies for producing or procuring equipment that will protect medical personnel, increase isolation and treatment facilities, strengthen coordination and collaboration with state governments and encouraging transparent and massive mobilization of essentials that will keep the citizenry at home.

 These are the moment leaders step up or step out, when opportunities beckon to rise and meet challenges, of sink deeper into abdication and ignominy. President Buhari said the fight against COVID-19 is a war we must win. He is right. The alternative is too frightening to contemplate. But he must personally lead, and rally other leaders and everyone else who has responsibility to fight and win. He must provide the leadership and the inspiration to governors and the legislature to adopt the best policies and strategies; to mobilize resources and place them promptly at the service of the people;  to stay personally abreast of developments in this fight and address worrisome sections of the battlefront like Kano and Lagos States, and citizens who want to see a combination of compassion and muscle in getting them to comply with rules, or they will revolt against the state and, ultimately, the well-off.

Thank you for the understanding I asked for when I went on break. May God see us through these frightening days.