Dear Governor Douye Diri, how are you doing today, in body and in spirit? It’s been a long time since I had the privilege of chatting with you. If I remember correctly, the last time I directed a solemn word at you, I was speaking about the need for Nembe to produce the next Governor of Bayelsa State, going by the rotational principle propagated by former Governor of the old Rivers State, Melford Okilo, endorsed by another former Governor Diepreye Alamieyeseigha, and witnessed by his successor, and later President, Goodluck Jonathan.
I am not telling you what you don’t know. As a matter of fact, you are in a better position to give me details of the arrangement. On my part, I will be frank with you. I have always thought it fair that the people of Epie-Atissa, our landlords, should produce the next governor. It so happens, however, that the baton falls to the Nembe, by the selfsame rotational formula. I am not the only one who thinks so. My brothers and sisters from Nembe-Se think so too. My kindred in the kingdom hope for nothing less.
I went so far as to quote Senator Nimi Barigha-Amange, who made his disposition public under the auspices of The Destiny Movement, his newfound pressure group. I will get back to that shortly. The point I need to make quickly, lest I forget, is that Bayelsa will be 30 years old as a state on 1 October 2026. Destiny has found you on seat as governor at this material time marking the milestone anniversary, and I have no doubt that you will be worthy of the role.
In the last nine months, Your Excellency, I have been tormented by the idea of becoming the next governor of Bayelsa State. As I told you before, I have been waiting for everybody to leave the Peoples Democratic Party so I can pick up its gubernatorial ticket toward the next elections. I have no doubt whatsoever that Nembe Kingdom will triumph in the end. Nothing would please me better than to hand over the baton to a governor of Epie-Atissa stock at the end of my tenure as Bayelsa State Governor.
But let’s not get ahead of the story. Let’s take one step at a time, one day at a time. By the way, Your Excellency, I want you to do me one favour. As our state turns 30, do something generous. Confound the naysayers. Do what your detractors think you cannot do. Release Brainbox forthwith, that young man who has been making rab on Tiktok.
I want to groom him. I want to teach Brainbox how best to talk to government. I want to instruct him about tact and diplomacy. I want to put him through the uses and abuses of etiquette and decorum. As citizens, we are all aggrieved about what Nigeria has become today. We wish and pray for a better nation rooted in equity and justice, but there’s no point being as brash as a motorpark tout. I prefer to speak in this still small voice of reason, coming to you on tiptoe, like a thief in the night.
Glory Land came into being as the pride of the nation, and it was known as such throughout the era of military administrators. Alamieyeseigha was reading through the scriptures one day, and came across the phrase glory of all lands. That defined for him what Bayelsa was all about. It carried an endorsement from above. It so happened that my very first speech for Alamieyeseigha was on this subject of converting from being the pride of the nation to becoming the glory of all lands.
Thirty years after the creation of the state, the question will pop up inevitably. How much of this foretold glory has Glory Land achieved as a state? How much of our wealth and substance have we put into building this gift of a state? Sixteen years ago, in 2010, I had cause to direct a book length epistle to Queen Elizabeth the Second of England under the title, Royal Mail.
I called on her to celebrate the birth of our state and support its growth, to undertake a diplomatic experiment in the name of the Queen’s Counsel who described the Niger Delta swamp as a special area deserving of special attention. I enjoined her to sponsor the growth of a Little London in the swamp that sustained the British empire in times past.
The expectations of Henry Willink, QC, for the Niger Delta swamp are yet to manifest. Are we applying our resources to credible uses, or are we pilfering from the commonwealth? These questions must be raised, and hecklers like Brainbox must ask questions. Conversations are only propelled by questions. Don’t take undue offence. I have a few questions myself, and they will crop up in the course of this breakfast chit chat.
By the way, Your Excellency, I couldn’t help but observe that 30 years into the life of our state, the three arms of the media would have been under the charge of three women. For the first time in the history of the state, the state newspaper, television, and radio were manned by women. It would have been a significant all female affair. Then came the unfortunate news that Grace Peletiri, who took over from Terence Ekiseh as acting General Manager of the radio, reportedly collapsed in her bathroom and died. She has been replaced by Asue Sorgwe, son of the broadcast legend, Brighten.
I feel like calling for a moment of silence in honour of the soul of Peletiri. From the first time I knew her along the corridors of Radio Rivers, Port Harcourt, she came to identify herself as the queen of the airwaves. She was cheerful and chatty and full of laughter on her programme with the unique signature tune. She was so friendly that she called everyone along the road by words of endearment. To her, everyone was a darling and a sweetheart, even on air.
She looked forward to making a difference in managing the affairs of Radio Bayelsa, and she showed this from day one when she relocated the office of the General Manager, moving all the totem pictures of past managers into her reception. She took her job seriously in a way that I had not known, and she might have stepped on some toes but she didn’t mean any harm.
For how long would she have served as GM? By January 2028, she would have retired. Alas, her remains lie in the morgue awaiting the family’s arrangements for interment. Along with Jane Help-Yawei, I remember Peletiri as the other female announcer who gravitated with every other pioneer staff to start Radio Bayelsa, following the creation of our state 30 years ago this year.
Your Excellency, 30 years in the life of a state is historic. It marks the end of a generation and the start of another. Children born on 1 October 1996, will be 30 years old on that day. It is worth celebrating. Many sons and daughters who began with the state would be glad to witness this particular anniversary.
Alas, some of them will not be there. Alamieyeseigha will not be at the banquet hall named after him. Thompson Okorotie will not be there. Oronto Douglas will not be there. Simon Ambakaderemo will not be there. Who else can you remember? It’s a long list. Amba Ambaowei will not be there. Kimse Okoko will not be there. Francis Doukpola will not be there. Walter Feghabo will not be there. Even Lawrence Ewhrudjakpor will not be there.
Even so, it will certainly be a privilege to witness the festivities marking 30 years of Bayelsa. You are particularly blessed to be at the helm of affairs in the state at this historic point in time. You inherited a mantle from the forefathers of the state, and you have brought us this far. You took over from your predecessors, and the cumulative score for all five sons of the soil who have been in charge of the state shows Bayelsa to have made progress. Our capital city doesn’t look like Little London yet. We don’t even look like the Dubai of Africa, but we are definitely not as rural as we used to be on 1 October 1996.
In the intervening 30-year bracket, we can point at definite nodes in the progress chart of the state. We can identify our high points, and the valleys in between. We know our low points and can point at the proud heights to which the state rose in various sectors of the economy within the time frame in question.
Today, the Niger Delta University can be mentioned in the same breath as the Bayelsa airport, the Bayelsa Medical University, the three senatorial roads under construction and the prospects for steady power supply as the basis for industrial growth. What remains for us is to optimise the human and capital assets in such a way that would earn more plaudits for the state with respect to food security, science and technology, arts and culture, sports, among others.
It is salutary that, at the age of thirty, the image of our state has been enhanced for the better. Even our brothers and sisters in Diaspora feel motivated to take pride in our heritage as a people with an illustrious history. One of the earliest overtures of Alamieyeseigha to our brethren abroad was to woo them into thinking Bayelsa even though they live far from home. At the height of the distress facing sons and daughters of Ijaw in Lagos, Alamieyeseigha stepped forward to give them hope. You expressed similar sentiments at the recent edition of the Odi Ogoriba Uge festival in Odi.
Today, many years after Alamieyeseigha’s fatherly patronage, the Ijaw people in Lagos are enjoying a greater sense of unity and solidarity under the auspices of the Africa Ijaw Cultural Festival. The annual fiesta entered its fourth edition this year, and it will do the image of Bayelsa a great deal of good for the government to support and sustain every venture to propagate the culture of our people outside our borders. This celebration is not hosted in the UK or America. It will make more sense to patronize our patriotic sons and daughters in the country doing their best to promote the Ijaw people wherever they may be by extending the necessary token to encourage them.
In my own humble way, I have resolved to mark this year with a line-up of twelve books, one representing each month. So far, I have published five books this year. I have seven more to go. If our own Ball Boy can get into the Guinness Book of Records for keeping the ball on his head while climbing up and down a mast, why shouldn’t I be able to write twelve books in one year? This year is just appropriate, as Bayelsa turns 30. It is my personal gift to the land of my birth.
One last act of generosity will not hurt the soul of your government, Your Excellency. In point of fact, it will sit well with your conscience if you remember the civil servant who secured judgement in his favour after five years of litigation. Withdraw your appeal, and obey the ruling of the court. Be a considerate and large-hearted father. The billions that have entered into the coffers of the state in recent times were released not just for you to build a new secretariat and a new stadium.
It was also to enable you extend empathy to the dispossessed, and to feel no pinch in attending to the pain of the family unit, in this case, one in which the breadwinner is deprived of the proceeds from his hard earned labour since the infancy of Bayelsa, with ample evidence to confirm his faithful service to the state. You stand a chance to receive an ovation from a host of angels, Your Excellency, if you can summon the grace to bring relief to that long-suffering household, in the spirit of Bayelsa at 30.
