Dear Governor Douye Diri, I could not help but see your passion as an Izon man on show, in a recent television appearance. I could feel the vibrant timbre of your voice belting out the resolutions of your government. I saw an expression of your ethnic mettle as a son of Ijaw land who would brook no nonsense under your watch as governor of your home state.
I share your passion, Your Excellency. I equally feel like directing some fiery darts at the enemy on behalf of my kindred. The only difference between you and I, really, is that you are in the limelight, while I am in the shadows, as quiet as a tell-tale cat among the audience. But if I begin to mew right now, it is more than likely to sound like a roar.
To start with, I wonder whether the confession by Diepreye Alamieyeseigha, to the effect that he inherited darkness, extends from 1999 to 2025. Otherwise, why should Bayelsa still be in darkness in the 21st century? Why is power supply still such a testy issue, such an intractable challenge, in an oil producing state that counts its monthly revenue in quantum billions? It comes to me as a puzzle you can solve.
Even tonight, Yenagoa will be in darkness. That’s why I thought I should remind you of your proclamation at the close of your fifth anniversary celebration in February. You said your government has placed an order for a brand new turbine with high-caliber megawatts capable of providing power all over Bayelsa, 24 hours round the clock, every blessed day.
I clapped for you, sitting as I do, on my humble cornerstone. You said the turbine will arrive in April and, by December, all of Bayelsa will be gloriously bright. This is April, Your Excellency. I await good news about the long expected turbine. I can’t wait for December to come, so I can find my way around in the dark, so I can stop groping through this overwhelming tenebris.
Ultimately, I share your goodwill for Bayelsa. Frankly, I do. I have already told you a few things that make me want to shake hands with you. Take the media, for instance. You have brought together all three arms of the media under one spacious, integrated roof, in much the same way that you are bringing all three senatorial districts within reachable possibility by building standard roads leading to the Bayelsa coastline on three strategic fronts.
So far, there has been harmony under the media roof. Only recently, however, the General Manager of the state newspaper corporation, Preye Wariowei, retired from service. The next in line should be the highest officer on the queue, namely Peace Sinclair, editor-in-chief of New Waves , the state newspaper. By all accounts, however, a Director in the Ministry of Information, Ruth Gwegwe, is being imported to sit atop her senior at the newspaper house.
As may be expected, there has been considerable brouhaha over the matter by sundry commentators at yahoo. Both Ruth and Peace were my reporters in the days when I served as Editor of The Tide On Sunday in Port Harcourt, before Bayelsa was created. I am a witness to their impressive rise over the years. They both know that I can’t afford to be impartial on a matter like this. It is simply not in my character.
In the face of the unhealthy stalemate, therefore, I have an idea. I suggest you appoint an emergency sole administrator over the affairs of the state newspaper corporation under reference, until the rightful heir is ascertained, and justice is served. Or, what do you think? I think you should consider a retired generalissimo in the pen profession, preferably one who has not been paid his emoluments for 15 years, in spite of a court judgement in his favour, to hold brief for the time being.
While you cogitate on that proposal, Your Excellency, let me bring to your notice that your credentials are being tried and tested. Many years ago, you were the youngest member of the Ijaw National Congress, the publicity secretary, for that matter. You were in the inner caucus of exclusive decision making by the most venerated body in the land.
You worked alongside Kimse Okoko, Amba Ambaowei, and Alamieyeseigha, noble sons of Ijawland who, in their prime, would shudder at the very thought that someone would dare raise a drunken voice and cast aspersions on the Ijaw nation. The very fact of it is enough to make them turn in their graves.
As things stand, you are the mouth-piece of Ijaw land today, strictly speaking. Pa Edwin Clark – God rest his fatherly soul – lies in the morgue, even as he received an undeserved flak from a famous motor park tout on rampage. The grumpy loud-mouth dismissed the Ijaw nation with a thoughtless backhand, and went so far as to say that only in Bayelsa can an Ijaw man sit at the helm of affairs. If the title of Governor-General were a mantle, you should be wearing it now, and you have spoken like one. You have banned Nyesom Wike from coming to Bayelsa.
Even so, there is something called an alternative vision, another way of looking at the same matter. Let’s attempt to do just that. Socrates, the all-time Greek philosopher, once said the unexamined life is not worth living. So, let’s explore this matter differently. Let’s consider other options. The crucial matter on ground is that Wike pointedly insulted the Ijaw ethnic group in entirety.
In December last year, I had something to say about Wike in a special edition of my paper. In honest admiration of his person, I had described him as the braggardly cowboy of Nigerian politics. But then, I placed him under close editorial scrutiny, and came to the conclusion that Wike talks like a running tap gone haywire. The faulty faucet stands in desperate need of repair. The man has no idea of the diplomatic dignity that goes with the office he occupies. He simply doesn’t know how to guard his utterances.
Wike is the sort of man, for instance, who would dismiss the elders council of Bayelsa State for being incapable of persuading the governor to host a simple book launch in honour of Ernest Sisei Ikoli, the first Nigerian statesman of repute, an illustrious son of Ijaw land deserving of celebration for his all-round pioneering role in nation building. For the heck of it, Wike could say that, and take the next tot of brandy with a carefree shrug of the shoulders. Three months later, in fact, he was holding the entire Ijaw nation in rude derision.
I pointed to the likelihood that, given the raw temper of his controversial remarks over time, Wike was capable of causing a major provocation in the days to come, and he did. He scoffed at the Ijaw nation with blatant impunity. On your part, you have stated categorically that Wike should not set foot on Bayelsa soil for a mega rally being planned for him by his acolytes. Soon enough, you came under pressure to remember the imperative of respecting freedom of movement and association as a fundamental right enshrined in the Nigerian constitution, as amended at the turn of the century, in 1999.
The first consideration is this: Wike is a Minister of the Federal Republic of Nigeria. He is at liberty to visit any part of the country he feels inclined to visit, just like you and Sim Fubara. Constitutionally speaking, even the Chairman of the Nigeria Union of Journalists (Bayelsa State chapter), Tonye Yemoleigha will agree with me on this.
Constitutionally speaking, Wike is at liberty to visit Yenagoa.
But you and I know that there are other factors to consider. There are political sentiments to take into account. Like a rascal on parole, Wike is known to cause a riotous welter of feelings wherever he goes, and you are anxious that he shouldn’t come over to Bayelsa and foment trouble.
If I were you, Your Excellency, I would have nothing to fear in that regard. Don’t feel threatened by Wike, says the pontiff in your backyard. Be assured of your definite foothold on Bayelsa. You have an ambidextrous grip on the three senatorial zones, and nobody can force that prize away from you, certainly not Wike.
I have a strong feeling that the soil of Ijawland will speak for itself, if Wike dares step foot on it after desecrating it so openly. If there’s anywhere Wike is likely to collapse, it is Bayelsa, the epicentre of Ijawland. Ask me why and I will tell you. What did Chinua Achebe say about a man who runs naked into the centre of the crowded market square? Check.
By the way, Your Excellency, Wike reminds me more and more of Humpty Dumpty, that big egg-headed character with spindly legs who sat on a narrow wall of indecision. Humpty Dumpty was neither here nor there. He was neither Peoples Democratic Party nor All Progressives Congress. The same is true of Wike.
The good old nursery rhyme says Humpty Dumpty had a great fall, and all the king’s men and all the king’s horses, could not put Humpty Dumpty together again. Fear not, Your Excellency. Let Wike come to Bayelsa. For all you know, all the President’s men may not be able to put him together again. A great resounding fall awaits Humpty Dumpty in the days to come. Ask the restive ghost of Clark.
