Posted in hope, disappointment,, Politics

On the border of two years

By

Noel Ihebuzor

We will soon be bidding goodbye to 2016.
I am in my village in Naze. We tell ourselves in my village that this is the original Nazareth, the place where Christ was born. Nazareth! We lost the “reth” portion of the name when Ireti seceded and moved to the other side of Owerri town. “The loss is their’s”, we tell ourselves, “after all, the traces of the manger where the savior lay are still here by Umuoparaugo compound for all sinless ones to see”. Personally, I cannot remember when last I saw those traces but Naze is still Nazareth for us and will remain so.
You can now understand why we take the celebration of Xmas with a certain level of seriousness in my village — a child is born in my tiny village, and soon, the world will be at his feet and his fame will enlarge to fill the minds of most humans. So it has been celebrations “Ahoy” though rice and stew have been declining in quality and quantity lately. Last time things were this bad was in the 83/85 period.
But back to my story. All the towns around us have their own Christmas days, depending on their market days – Eke, Orie, Afo or Nkwo. On these market days, the spirits of the land come out of tiny ant holes in the ground to become huge masquerades that walk the streets of the town in huge beautiful dance steps. Far from us is that spirit of religious intolerance – animists, traditionalists and christians of shades and colors troop out to celebrate. Any AK 47s you see are toys that Rambo looking and aping security officials flash around as they make a mockery of the act of protecting politicians from the same persons who were supposed to have elected them. The whole thing is so childish that I find it best to see it as part of the celebrations, as a well conceived play within a play.
So, it is all celebrations, and in the process, we get up caught up by forgetfulness and the new year creeps in on us, as it is doing as I struggle to rush-write this mail where I wish to do two things – to wish you well and rejoice with you that you survived 2016 and to wish you Health, Wealth, Wisdom, Success, Love of God and neighbor, Peace, Prosperity and Progress in 2017.
2016 has not been an easy year for Nigerians – everything got “Mbuhari” – got thrown out of place and out of skew. Things fell apart, things have fallen apart and there are no indication that they will stop falling apart. Promises made to the electorate were not kept by government, the naira crashed, herdsmen became expert death squads, security forces appeared powerless to stop them, oil prices slumped, and being largely a one product economy the economy also slumped, recession, so ably described as a term in economics, hit us when our supposed experts were looking and padding found its place in our budgeting process. Instead of solutions, we toured other countries, we established dual and triple rates for naira exchange and chose the most inconvenient of moments to remind the world of what we thought of feminism in the now acclaimed and patented “za oda room” prescription. Scapegoatism, diversionary antics and finger pointing which may have been appropriate as electioneering tactics were stepped up by government to the discomfiture of its former supporters and the amusement of the scattered opposition. Surprise and arrest became a typical pattern till it turned out to very boring and repetitive to the public. Devoid of any forward looking economic policy and without a stimulus package that could halt the slide of the economy and the naira, recession dug deeper. Even the government anti-corruption flagship was badly managed and soon came to be perceived as a selective exercise and one targeted at persons with “wrong” political affiliations – those with the right political affiliations have nothing to fear. By thus being seen to be protecting its associates, the government was inadvertently giving a new breath of life to corruption and strangely enough was also crying loudest that corruption was fighting back. It found it convenient to ignore that selective targeting incentivizes corruption. Unemployment continues to rise and the promised social safety nets programmes have been slow in taking off. Government’s area of distinction appears to be in the blaming of its predecessor but the discerning public is beginning to see through this. Ditto for security. Ditto for energy, ditto for our roads where death stalks and steal souls every day and security agents sent out to protect the traveler look for every excuse to extort money from you. Protectors and providers have now turned exploiters and expropriators. Some state governments went one step further to creatively deepen kleptocracy by stealing the pensions of retired teachers. In 2016, Nigeria was not country for old men.
On the foreign scene, human ability to create, watch and report suffering and cruelty continues to outpace our capacity to build peace and be our brothers’ and sisters’ keepers. Religious and sectarian intolerance rose and intercultural dialogue/harmony appear to be expressions coined by passing martians on a short visit to planet earth. As I write, horrific and horrible images and footages from the wars in Iraq and Syria harass my mind, pictures of cruelty and devastating destructions are all around for us to see. Africans, Arabs, Asians and even Europeans “invaded” portions of Europe – initially, they came by sea, and then they swarmed overland. The “jungles of Calais”, in the end, are merely a visible projection of the inner jungle in the human heart. We have managed to outdo Kurtz, Joseph Conrad’s anti-hero in our propensity for savagery and imbecility. Short-termist economist thinking is being fanned and is desiccating human capacity for empathy. Populists and right wing politicians and demagogues in Europe and America have latched unto people’s fears of an imagined demographic make over to push xenophobia and exaggerated accusations as the best vote catching strategies. The American elections showed indeed that America remains the land of opportunities and that locker room talk does not dent any opportunity. I refuse to tear any green card or to eat my hat but the results shook me up completely. I am still struggling to work out how this magic was worked, how the polls could have been so wrong and how so many women – educated, middle class, non-educated etc could have voted the way they did. Over time, someone will come up with a study that could reveal the effect of those results on the feminist position and feminist consensus – for the moment, all appears allowed – bum pitching, groping and locker room talk for some persons!
Slowly 2016 limps out and 2017 walks in.
Looking forward to meeting you all on the other side of the new year, and soon, insha allah.
Posted in hope, disappointment,, Politics

Random Tweets on a random day

by

Noel Ihebuzor

 

On my way back from Lagos this morning, I ran into a friend who 20 months ago used to swear by GMB. Today, he was swearing at the man! TIME!

Disillusionment – “when you find yourself now beginning to swear AT the person you used to swear BY a few month’s ago”

Mental liberation – when the scales fall off your eyes and you begin to see clearly again, free from the manipulation of “influencers”

The arrogance of the ignorant is baffling, the ignorance of the arrogant more so, and the arrogance of the ignorant arrogant most so!

The tragedy of Nigeria is that she has always had elected persons who put the pursuit of personal interests ahead of institution building.

Bad leadership is characterized by excessive short-termism in vision and thinking.

Bad leadership is characterized by ignorance, arrogance and an unwillingness to recognize and remedy its fundamental ignorance!

Blaming one’s predecessor for one’s vision & strategic leadership failures is the best admission of & the lamest excuse for incompetence.

Best way a non-performer can hold on to power? Use the instruments of state power to intimidate and scatter potential opponents!

Does he/she seeking elected office possess functional competences in Economics & Public Policy? Does he/she believe in lifelong learning? Question for 2019!

Posted in Poetry

Singers as Saints

By

Noel Ihebuzor

Ten hundred prayed for posts

Twenty pastors and thirty prophets

Prayed and brayed almost

Ten of the prayers, the preyed upon,

the prayed for, got the posts

And prayed on the post

Preyed on the people

All ten had juicy morsels

generously availed, padded

nine chewed their morsels and swallowed

morals mellowed, conscience shriveled,

cheeks blossomed and wardrobes overflowed

in a season of drought and bones

the tenth chewed and sucked,

till nought was left, save chaff and fibre

spat out, never swallowing

cheeks blossomed, morals mellowed

conscience in contraction

tongue active in denial

And she sweet sings herself

the beatification chorus for saints

I spat out and therefore am a saint

chew and swallow mean guilt

singing with a tongue that runs and rails

foams white and fumes

raw tongue running with serums of guile and rage,

shored up by fluids and anima

sucked out of now chaffed morsels

entrapped in self praise,

the singer forgets

that Mother Theresa

did not sing sainthood

to be sainted

If self praise is all it takes to be sainted,

then horses would be flying over low anthills

and praise singing themselves hoarse

to the thundering music of their noisy hoofs

rivaled by the grunting of pigs wearing cheap scents

rooting for sainthoods for cleanliness

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized

Silence as guilt

By

Noel Ihebuzor

They grabbed him by his collar

dragged him to the ocean front

shouting, gesturing and swearing,

He was boxed on both ears,

his jaws, his chin, his ribs

were bashed, bruised, some broken

all the sins of the world,

all the failures were

heaped on him,

the “sealed” wombs,

every wasted wave,

all sterile flowers

all failed erections,

every flop, all power failures,

any incontinence….

they blamed on him

At the ocean front

The sky for their witness

They screamed at him,

they cursed him, they beat him

for their own weaknesses,

their failings and his

and yet he said nothing

and his silence

soon was their proof

For silence is guilt

Silence is complicity

was his silence smart?

Broken jaws lead to silence

The heavens remain silent

on the secrets of peoples

plants and planets

Does this silence,

then make them guilty,

complicit in our pains?

in this troubled world,

some plans are so twisted,

the waves sweep them

for safe keeping

to echoless silent chambers

where ageless mammy waters

moan day time half sated

when fortune hungry fishermen visit

and to whence they retire

to sleep all night

surrounded by winking periwinkles

when worn out,

without the hoped for fortune

and overworked

fooled fishermen return home to rest

their secrets carefully wrapped in silence

and concealed from their caring wives.

Posted in Poetry

The snuff box choice

by

Noel Ihebuzor

Do not ask the Asaba woman

why she chose the snuff box

reasons are not always logical

the chooser knows best

and though saints shock us

by choosing to suffer, sadists believe

happiness awaits such a choice

 

Saints are not created by words

nor by fiat but by their works

Heroes are hailed not for their haste

but for their hard choices

 

Wizened eyes in the present

see shady pasts clearly,

and to such,

the present appears shady, unclear

 

Would saints sing the Asaba woman’s choice

as a sin,  pure without any comma

or would their deep thoughts

judge her lightly as the victim

of a conscience that was in a coma

 

rationalisation potent as indignation

often bars the doors to truth,

shutters the windows,

sheds shady lights poorly to the realisation

that though choices are always personal,

choices are also always finally weighed

on a scale steeped in ethics

soaked in morals

Posted in Uncategorized

How the light gets in

Great poem. Helps me manage my feeling of loss.

Susan L Daniels's avatarSusan Daniels Poetry

for LC

I was going to list your loss
as the topper
to a very bad week–
first America
and now you

but your words
listened to with eyes closed
say you would have waited for this

eager, open to the possibility
of more direct wrestling
with angels.

Maybe this crack
in my skin
in my heart
in my hope

is not me mourning

but simply opening
to incandescence

I would rather live lit
than broken.

View original post

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized

Musings the day after

By

Noel Ihebuzor

 

when lies triumph over truth

& cheap trumps deep,

when shallow heels profound,

& cats are at the mercy of gropers

flee, my daughter, flee

 

fly, my daughter

the why of the lie

festers in the lair where lies the liar,

fast lips & slimy tongue crowding

the loud unrepentant mouth

 

when right is treated with levity,

& superficial is spun as profound,

noise drowns intellect,

asinine equations mistake

rectum for rectitude

 

lying tongues lie

in wait for the unwary

with syrups that dull-drowse

but rouse slippery rodents

of fear, hate, disdain of the other

Posted in Poetry

A Song for the Naive

by

Noel Ihebuzor

I will laugh with the greenness

of young blades of corn

thrusting forward, green and bold

in a land where virgins are

two for a grand

and impotent randy men

roam wide spaces

in quest of unstable risings

Do you hear the whispers

of the blade of corn,

young and talkative

as it sways to share its secrets?

and sell its prophecy?

The secrets of the farm,

its short tales, of staggered truths,

tales of men with huge trumpets,

elepant egos and stiff backs

tales of the empty baba rigas

are not told on market days,

nor on farm days

songs of noisy plantings

the flapping and chatter of leaves,

empty but full of naivety….

an empty harvest follows

and the once wet song

soon turns dry, wilts and withers,

leaves, once green,

now brown, twisted dry,

now cry.