Bravo, Your Excellency, on the choice of the logo for the 30th anniversary of Bayelsa State! The design is at once simple and stately. It was simply inspired. It speaks well of the Bayelsa brand.
Thank you for encouraging the young artist with a token sum of N3 million. You have done the right thing. His imagination will take flight. His credentials are enhanced, and his potential is assured.
Faith is revived in the art and culture industry. Young boys and girls of Bayelsa State, born within this 30-year bracket, would feel encouraged that, if they apply their talents, they can earn recognition for their efforts. I imagine that the young artist must be very proud of his achievement. The entire exercise had surpassed his expectations. He must have been surprised to see his logo branded on banners, on vehicles, on T-shirts and face caps and tea cups and umbrellas, and all over the internet, all celebrating Bayelsa at thirty.
As I was saying, Your Excellency, 30 years is a significant stretch of time in the life of a state. It encompasses a whole generation. So much has happened at the individual and collective levels. You were younger 30 years ago, holding office perhaps as a school teacher. Thirty years later, you sit as Governor of your state, father of every son and daughter of the state, fully in charge of our commonwealth.
You have made an obvious difference in the course of your tenure so far. You have earned your identity as the Governor who connected the three senatorial districts of Bayelsa by road. You are the Governor who built bridges across our streams and over our creeks. You built the Elebele bridge, you built the Oporoma bridge, and you are constructing the long-awaited Nembe-Brass road with several bridges in view.
Given this sterling testimonial, Your Excellency, I have a strong feeling that you can do more to enhance your reputation. You can address areas of development that were not within the purview of your predecessors. If you can construct a nine-storey secretariat complex, and a gargantuan stadium that will make the Olubolade sports complex look like a practice pitch, then you can do much more for the ordinary denizens of Yenagoa.
By the way, Your Excellency, I had the privilege of fielding a few questions recently about the progress of our state, 30 years after its creation. I was invited to speak my mind on Golden FM last week, and I said a few things in all good conscience. One hour of chit-chat on a radio programme is not enough to exhaust any subject. You talk as you go, yes, but the more you talk, the more you realise that there’s more to say. Only after the programme did my observations come to me.
Mark you, I was visiting the station for the first time, and had taken a side gate into the premises. I had a frontal view of the station only when I stepped out of the main gate. It occurred to me then that, by way of comparison, the humble caravan from which the voices of Moye and Paul emanate, is like Bayelsa State as it is today.
The gigantic, imposing structure behind the caravan is like our state the way it ought to be after 30 years. I couldn’t miss that symbolism, that analogy. I began the conversation, in fact, with the reality that Bayelsa began on a very rudimentary note. Everything was makeshift. It was a government of caravans and portakabins. Yenagoa was a rural community with one single deserted road, no radio station, and certainly no television station. In the words of Sani Abacha, it was a glorified village.
The big question is this. How far have we stepped away from that image of a glorified village? How cosmopolitan have we become since then? We are yet to achieve the ideal state of our dreams, I told my interview crew, for the simple reason that the government of Diepreye Alamieyeseigha could not summon the courage to apply the master plan conceived and initiated by the founding fathers, and summarily tossed aside by Olubolade on grounds of cost.
In other words, Olubolade could not afford to pay Harcourt Aduke the bill of the architect, and Alamieyeseigha did not have the presence of mind to call for the plan, pay for it, and implement it now that a son of the soil had taken charge. They both preferred to begin with caravans and portakabins. No grand dreams were in sight, no thanks to the lean purse of the state.
I suppose it is too late for you to follow the famous master plan, Your Excellency. You don’t have much time in office to be guided by that document. It shall be the first duty of the next Governor from Nembe to call for the master plan, and implement it to the letter, if indeed your successor would make capital of his tenure.
The way I see it, a new Yenagoa is conceivable across Ekoli Creek. It would do your government a world of good, if you begin that process by taking inventory of all the plank bridges in the state capital, and replacing them with more concrete structures. In like manner, it will be nice if you could be so large-hearted as to maintain the connecting roads within the state capital, in the spirit of Bayelsa at 30.
I expressed a few more sentiments about Bayelsa that day on Golden FM, but I don’t intend to repeat them here. What I did not say that day is that the story of Bayelsa has been captured in bits and pieces by one gentle record keeper who took the trouble to enter into a conversation with each government, in military times and in civilian times alike.
I happen to be that record keeper, Your Excellency. As you know too well, I was able to put a book in the hands of Olubolade before he passed on. I wrote speeches for Alamieyeseigha and Jonathan, and I conversed with the Dickson government in much the same way that I’m conversing with you right now. So I thought it fit and proper to make a public presentation of four among these books in honour of Bayelsa at thirty.
To my utmost surprise, I came under a barrage of attacks for omitting Timipre Sylva in the line up. My argument that this is just the humble effort of one citizen has fallen on deaf ears. The prevalent point of view is that Sylva was a duly elected Governor of Bayelsa State, and should therefore be given due recognition in everything that has to do with Bayelsa at thirty.
I have, therefore, come under obligation to increase the tally of the books from four to six, beginning with the military. One of the books, Your Excellency, is on you. As things stand, I have no way of reaching you in good time on account of the tight security cordon around you. Forgive me, therefore, if I use this platform to invite you to the public presentation of six books on Bayelsa at thirty.
As may be expected, in the last few nights, I have been sleepless in my attempt to put something together to fill the gap for Sylva, and complete the full range of Bayelsa sons who have been at the helm of affairs in the state these past thirty years. You will agree with me that the Sylva factor in Bayelsa politics cannot be discounted.
Lest I forget, Your Excellency, it has since struck me as auspicious and divine that the logo of the Bayelsa at thirty celebration has six stars on it, and here I am set to present six books, each representing six substantive governments that have taken charge of Bayelsa thus far. God surely moves in wonderous ways to make his will perfect.
The first time I hosted a book event at the Gabriel Okara Cultural Center twenty years ago, all my guests were given a chance to speak, except me. The master of ceremonies simply forgot about me, the host. So I have taken the precaution of spelling out the fact that, in my capacity as the host, I shall give a short speech.
The occasion was initially billed for two o’clock at the Azaiki Public Library on the date Alamieyeseigha died eleven years ago this month. On account of the two additional books, I am constrained to hold the event three days later, on October 13, at the same time and place. To say the least, Your Excellency, I would be overwhelmed if you would consider it pertinent to grace the occasion with your gubernatorial presence. I look forward to receiving you with a welcome smile. Thank you for your kind attention. God bless you.
