Fashola's Lagos

As the country commends the metamorphosis of Lagos, I will join many Nigerians to congratulate our innovative Raji Fashola. The irony however, is that I never thought the day would come when Lagos would be blessed with a leader like him. (at least not in my life time). Now I guess I’m eating my words and they don’t taste so good.

Truth is, many people are as guilty as I am, and I never supported Raji from the outset. I had many things against the guy; first he had to be the incumbent’s protégé and I wondered why he couldn’t speak for himself. Also, the likes of ---- and---- blew me away with the suaveness and fluency. Compared to the quite Raji who could barely be heard even above the loud speakers (or maybe it was I who wasn’t listening). Other aspirants seemed to have garnered all our attention. Their speeches inspired me to think maybe for once, Lagosians would vote right and allow the change we need.

With the results out and Raji declared as winner, I was also among the crowd that cried foul. And we waited for him to prove the enlightened, exposed and educated facet of the state right. Unfortunately, he hasn’t given us the pleasure to see him fail, at least not to my knowledge. I hate to join the bandwagon praising Fashola every single moment they get but I still cant help doffing my hat (not that I like wearing hats) to this guy I thought didn’t have the verve it takes to transform Lagos state. He seems to have a determination stronger than his critics could have imagined, or else they would have tried harder during the campaign.

What happens when you have a governor in this country who just doesn’t like using sirens? Not because he wants you to like him (yea, we all know what strategy) but because he just doesn’t like noise. Now I heard him say that and went “yeah right, Raji don’t sweet talk me puuleeze” but he proved me wrong by consistently driving through Lagos without the use of the sirens. What you get is a saner Lagos.

What do you get when a governor personally apologizes for his subject’s mistake? The navy officer that authorized the physical attack of a Miss Uzoma in Lagos recently could have been knighted for his bravery in another administration for all we care but Fashola took charge. Now, I know he isn’t superman and he is only carrying out the duties expected of a governor, but the question is “When last did we have one so responsible?” It’s almost like a luxury walking through a place like Oshodi and wondering where all the dirt went to. What happened to the heaps of nylons and the smell of feaces cross the rail way? Then you wonder why we all have to use the pedestrian bridge to get to the other side of the road (uncomfortable for people who just love running across that road right?) And before you think it’s all a façade, the armed mobile police men are on ground to remind you that Lagos must change, whether you like it or not. I must confess, this whole phase excites me like a child waiting for Christmas morning.

Talking about Christmas, have you seen the new look of Lagos this festive season? It makes you wonder if you were somewhere far from home. The fun part is that these initiatives are not as expensive as the embarrassing excuses we’ve had from our past administrators; it’s all a mind thing. If you package a five dollar ring in a beautiful case probably worth more than the ring, it’s very possible that the ring would assume a higher value to someone who isn’t aware of the cost. If Nigerians can drive through their neighborhood and have a reason to smile or even take pictures to show others, then we are on the brink of change.

Sadly though, many Nigerians are complaining. Yes, we know Rome wasn’t built in a day but these people want more action than decorations and promises of a better, brighter or rewarding future. They would rather have that future today. The truth is, we cannot change a nation without changing the people themselves. If you mount a thousand and one thrash bins on a street, I know some people who will still litter the ground with dirt. If you force people to wear helmets on bikes, I know some people who would rather hold those helmets than wear them for safety. Its all in the mind isn’t it? They give excuses such as the fear of ritualists and possibility of catching skin diseases, leprosy and even HIV from these helmets! I do not mean to disregard these fears because I also have my issues against the helmet law. Why would the FRSC enforce a law when even the Okada riders themselves are not well trained on how to drive their bikes? I am of the opinion that asides forcing people to wear safety gadgets on bikes let the bike riders be zoned accordingly and trained intensively on safety on the roads, after which they are issued with licenses allowing them to do their business. I am not an advocate for the ban of motorcycles, not because it’s not a good idea but because we still don’t have what it takes. Or how do you want people like me to get to work on time against the mad traffic?

So, I agree we have more pressing issues but our governor seems to have discovered a secret that it’s the little drops that make an ocean.


©Oluwatoyin Odewunmi
2009 Jan.

Just for the Sistas...and the men who love them

Maybe I need to understand my place as a woman and let the men do their thing. But wait…that would mean my pride against the static male ego. Recently in the middle of a heated argument, a man called me proud but isn’t that supposed to be a compliment? So I gracefully accepted his kind words but my friend went too far when he said I was…what’s that word again? Phony...psychotic...men! (Real spelling E-G-O) Like I said, I'm still learning my place as a woman and I often sob at the thought of my life as the weaker sex. The life of a woman is almost pathetic; she will forever pay for leading the man astray with the forbidden fruit. Will she ever be forgiven, even in eternity? When will she be free from the fear of assault, rape, and the one that faces me even now…the fear of being herself, the freedom to express her opinion without a man breathing down her neck…or fellow women casting the evil eye on her, just for daring to be herself. I think sometimes I can help her tell her story , help her find her voice in the midst of the rancor, in the midst of the expectations -- from parents, the society and her man. But like I said, I’m still learning the art and mastery of the male ego.

I love African men and their sense of humor but I just don’t think I get their views on politics, romance, family…I could go on and on. But I’m trying to be an African man’s woman so you see why I must understand their ways? Ever heard of the phrase “I can’t possibly do that because I’m the Man” or “You shouldn’t do that because you’re a woman.

Ladies, don’t even try the 21st century thingy on them; they know the trick (sigh). Ever heard that popular phrase “Men are from Mars…women are probably aliens”? (Well, you heard it from me!) So when that guy holds the door for you, carries your purse, feeds you breakfast in bed…hold the mushy thoughts…if he’s black, him back!

• Dedicated to all my daring black brothers who are not ashamed of having a successful sista by their side. Who are not governed by the laws of give and take, who are not controlled by their ego and you know what!
• Dedicated to all my faithful soul sistas who know how to respect and love their men. Who keep it simple even though they’ve got it going on

On the Brink

Musing on my way to work this morning, I was blessed with the burden of shutting the world out.

The blaring sounds from dysfunctional loud speakers, where CDs and tapes are sold and the unfortunate customer has to scream the CD title to the seller for a sale. I was shutting out the putrid smell of gutter coming from the garage and the stench of cheap perfume from the bus passengers.

I was so determined to reflect that the curses uttered by the conductors didn’t bother me one bit. The engine of the bus made noises like a train but I remained undaunted. After all, it’s the last day of the year. The day everyone is supposed to reflect, make New Year resolutions, fast and pray.

I am fascinated with the fact that each year held more hopes, dreams, and more responsibilities. The thought of another year gives me goose pimples, partly out of excitement and also out of anxiety. The truth is, “I’m getting older, yet I feel younger than my 20 something years on this planet” or not.

I recall switching channels the other day and I briefly stopped at cartoon network. I didn’t linger on like I would normally on CNN but some years back…maybe 2 years back, I didn’t joke with cartoon network. Now, my interests seem to have taken a paradigm shift. This scares me but I’m also enthralled by the thought of “growing older”. It’s in reality a fun thing but on deeper reflection, more responsibilities aren’t fun anymore.

On past New Year’s eves, I never really bothered about writing goals for the year or things to pray for. I just lighted the fireworks and ate the chicken. Now, it actually bothers me that on the last day, I still don’t have any goals for the approaching year. Its not like I don’t have these goals somewhere in my head but writing them down is the concern.

But I still can’t get over the change taking place in my mind. My concerns have veered from girl and boy stuff to the global economic crisis, all in one or two years? It makes me laugh at myself sometimes. But now I know the meaning of “the young at heart”. It is very easy to allow the “grown up issues” give us wrinkles especially when all you hear daily are the Ugandan rebels killing scores of people on Christmas day. To think they couldn’t pick a better day to spoil the taste of your turkey.

When you go to bed praying the strikes on Gaza would end, Israel wakes you up with a promise not to stop the war. The world, your world, our world… seems paranoid and it’s only natural for us to adapt to this paranoia or maybe grow a few wrinkles.

Now, if you think the heat is outside the shores of our beloved country, think about the Niger delta crisis, and think about how many innocent people have lost their lives in the “struggle”. Think about the Jos crisis that came like a whirlwind and left a lot of people dead for no reason. And with all the issues, our leaders either choose to enrich their pockets or act dumb. Except of course someone can tell me what inspired our dear president to pick his cabinet members.

It’s a sad story but I choose to be happy no matter what. That’s why my New Year resolution is to watch more of cartoon network and buy comedy movie tickets than read politics and watch CNN.

Truth is New Year resolutions are faster broken than made.