Ooh my home, oh my home, Oh my home, oh my home, When shall I see my home? When shall I see my native land? I will never forget my home! Interpretations can vary as deemed apposite by the one who gives meaning. The tune can refer to the Israelites by the Rivers of Babylon. For them, deep nostalgia will have settled and the only satiation they can get will be when their feet stand within the temple of the Lord in Jerusalem. It can be applied to the negroes sweating in the sweltering heat of the unending plantations of their "Massa" who rewards their dereliction of duty with extra whips to their already corrugated backs. How dare they chant wishful songs when there's the plantation field to labour over. That barely scratches the surface. As many as there are heads to give it thought, there are meanings to be got. It can refer to the Diasporan who dreams of the good old days with a glorified romanticisation of the past and a memory that conspires to block out the hustle and bustle of what it used to be back in the days feeding the mind with only the good, bright and memorable aspects. Another can see in it the yearnings of a wayfaring President whose wholesome duties have taken him far from the embrace of his ranch, the sweetness of the dust in the morning, the percolating stench of the dung from the adjoining herd, the disturbances of the cattle rustlers, the rest of the nomadic wanderings. In all, it may be thought that he'd now envy the blithely candour of his predecessor from whose adrift meanderings he came about his present duties. And for another, it might simply be the result of an overindulgent memory that juggles things from the past and the present with the adroitness of one with a finger on the pulse of tomorrow. This one will have quickly recalled how this was a song for the Assembly that was called every day of the school week and from where pupils marched soldierly to the classroom for the day's subjects. And it will have brought back a few tender memories of theirs from those beautiful days. And maybe a different song as well. Drawing meanings can be like armpits sometimes. No, not the implication that it smells. Without discountenancing that aspect, its semblance to armpit is that you'd always find someone with one meaning to something. Or two. PhotoCred: www.alamy.com
When the date of his wedding drew near, there were hushed tones that began to spread the mongerings that Jay will be bringing his eclectic style to the way the event will be celebrated. No one knew for sure. Those closest to him swore with their lives that it will be a thing to relish because it will not be wedding-as-usual.
"Yes oo," Biodun confirmed to Cele over the phone, when the latter had called to confirm if Biodun got the same email he got. "Jay is just a character."
"We know that one already, but how can he say there's no IV," Cele countered.
"Because he can," Biodun finished off. "So, consider the email the only invitation you need."
"And no dress code?"
"Guy, you can read, abi?" said a now irritated Biodun. "Doesn't it clearly state it there or you are having fun at my expense stating the obvious?"
"No, but..." Cele couldn't find the words.
"But how can a modern day wedding have neither IV nor dress code, abi?" Biodun helped him out. "As I've told Cece, Stacey and Jimi who have all called to make the same enquiries, were we thinking marriage was going to change the Jay we've always known and loved for being the way he is?"
"I'm not arguing with that, bro," Cele said thoughtfully, "but how could he have forced such on the families. Not just his own but the one into which he is marrying?"
"Same thing, Cele. It is Jay. He has his ways. No bi today we know dat one."
"O'boy, that guy na somtin else, I dey teh you."
"Just as I've been telling you since. Now, if you don't mind, I need to go pick up a pair of clean heels. I must be on point come Saturday." As Biodun cut the call, he recalled how he too had wondered how Jay pulled it off. But he shrugged. What was he expecting? Jay can only be Jay. Dazzal.
That was Thursday.
On Saturday, while Biodun savoured the delicacy of a boneless piece of turkey spiced to tantalise the tonsils which he'd carefully selected at the buffet to compliment his admixture of jollof rice and fried rice accompanied by a flanking of Coleslaw dressing, he marvelled again at the uncharacteristic event he was attending.
"Where is the couple? Where 'is' the husband and wife oo" had been the chorused question he'd heard on arrival. As one of those privy of the plans, he'd laughed and kept mainly to himself to avoid being pestered by one of those aunties and uncles who knew he was a close friend of Jay's. He'd been told Cele couldn't make it due to ill health. He'd have to go check on him on Sunday.
Following Jay's crafted sequence of events, the absent couple who asked family and friends to be at the venue of the event at 10 am to witness the glorious union were in a chapel, about 5 minutes drive from that very same venue. In a closeted ceremony witnessed by the parents and siblings of the bride and groom only, they exchanged self-composed vows and were blessed by the vicar.
As Jay will relate to Biodun later, it was over in half an hour. And with glistening eyes, wetted by tears of ecstatic love, he'd listen to Jay relay that moment as being the most magical of his life. Jay was like that, he could paint a picture with words, so perfectly, you'd see with his mind's eyes as he spoke.
Meanwhile, just as the search for the husband-and-wife-to-be was approaching Gulder Ultimate Search levels, the just married Bride-and-Groom waltzed into the event venue with Kate swaying and displaying her wedding band around her finger for the world to see. The shocked looks and wide-eyed astonishment that the realisation evoked was best imagined. Biodun's attempt at stomaching the amusement he felt seeing people come to the consciousness that the vows had already been exchanged failed miserably. He laughed so hard, he choked. Twenty minutes later, he was still red in the eyes.
As he chowed on his turkey and rice combo with his new leather shoes reflecting in the beautiful array of lights in the well-decorated hall, he still had cause to shake his head at the surreality of what he was witnessing. The reception which the event had become since they all missed the exchange of vows was nothing anyone had expected. There was no MC, no dramatic acts of the couple whether it was cutting their cakes or feeding one another, no "long thing". Food was "serve yourself", so no cases of "look face". There was no sitting arrangements based on "aso ebi" and so no hierarchy of guests. By implication, there was no high-table.
A combination of the couple's best songs played non-stop over the venue through the strategically located speakers and they were all mild numbers, mostly number one hits over the years. As these played and people enjoyed their meal, the couple spent the time going from table to table to share moments with friends and family who came to share their day. There was laughter, fun and not a few wet eyes. Some they met together, some individually. They took pictures with many guests and made sure they covered the entire area before going to the serving area to dish their own meals.
From Biodun's table he could see Jay almost cover his entire plate with Coleslaw. Typical. He'd never understand what that guy saw in Coleslaw. He guessed it was he who made sure it was served at the event. Kate went for a modest portion of fried rice and a drumstick. As they walked together to find a table to eat on, Biodun felt he needed to refill his plate.
It was the oddest reception he'd attended quite alright. But with such unusual coupling, it was just as well that the food was so tasty. Some guests were soon seen leaving and it was well and good. They had gifts they'd given the couple and there was a table with souvenirs to pick as you like on your way out. Hmmmm, Biodun shook his head. He'd later take a selfie (or groupfie) with them both but for now, "belle kingdom" must be served. He laughed at himself and almost choked again.
It's a good day to see the serial voice on TV make an appearing in the Red Chamber. I'd not want to say the pressure of why a disparity of persona existed between who we see on TV and the man in the Senate paid off and forced his hand to brandish his brand of commonsense to his co-travellers. I wouldn't want to infer any such connections. No.
I'd simply allow anyone who watches the clip to think along certain margins. The wise money, I've often heard economists argue, is always on subsidising what can be a money earner for the government. Therefore, they insist on subsidising production rather than consumption. When you begin to subsidise commercial transportation because, as the commonsense argument holds, you want to make the right argument about oil (I doubt the Americans and the English are ignorant of what a litre costs though) and because you don't want demonstrations and protests when you deregulate, when you begin to subsidise transportation for that reason, how does that earn for the government? What happens to small and medium scale businesses that will be choked out of business because they simply can't operate in that climate? Will they also be subsidised next?
Then, car owners? Those who need to get from point A to point B for their businesses to run efficiently without the hassle of public transport? Ooh, everyone should abandon their personal cars and all use public transport? It is unimaginable the chaos that'll cause. Perhaps it is imaginable. Just think about it. On the other hand, maybe we should subsidise that as well. That's the new economics now. Subsidise It. Even while we're tightening out belts oo.
The focus shouldn't be on what to subsidise or cut subsidy on but to make more efficient services that ought to run autonomously without hitches. A more efficient supply of electrical power that ensures industrial manufacturing isn't hampered, good roads that allows goods produced here get there without hiccups and a transport system that you can boycott one and pick the competition to protest price hike in one or the other helps everyone better.
The Senator will also want more money to be given to States. Brilliant. Think along this margin on this one. The argument of political eggheads is that we run an awkwardly obtuse Federation. In true federal practice, the autonomy of constituent units is respected enough for them to be earning and keeping what they earn, contributing just enough for the federal government to run defense, welfare and government at the centre. They, unlike us, do not run to the centre for larger or smaller handouts.
The point is, the focus shouldn't be a "sharing formula" or on shrinking one for the good of the other. It is the relic of a military past that should be consigned to the trash. True federalism is the solution. And there's no better place to make this argument than at the National Assembly. What he's here suggesting suffers the same malaise as he accused everyone but himself of suffering. It is merely looking at symptoms while the ailment is draining the life away.
As presently constituted, the governors can't legislate on certain things that curtail infrastructural development of their States though they are conferred with powers, rights and obligations. Their short list of exercisable powers, rights and available powers limit their ability to meet some goals and running to Abuja, cap-in-hand, is often the only legal means to address it. I wouldn't want to go into the academic delineation of Exclusive, Residual and Concurrent Lists here but suffice to say that even as the Chief Security Officer of his State, a state governor isn't in-charge of the Police assigned to the State. Abuja itself, tied to this Constitution, also has limits to how far it can go to "share" (or to use the revered Senator's choice of phrasing "shrink"). Only last year, it was berated for bailing out States that couldn't pay salaries.
The work to be done to get Nigeria on the path of true progress isn't piecemeal. But it is doable. However, it won't be accomplished "overnight". I'd refrain from using "Mickey Mouse" steps but if the holes from where previously borrowed and earned sums leaked away our collective patrimony are not blocked before the humongous USD30trn the good man urged us to borrow arrives, then, I'm very sorry for the debt servicing that the next generation of Nigerians will inherit. Leakages have to be blocked and secured first, I'd assume.
Plus, there are other factors that play into borrowing than just the said amount and one would've thought the gentleman knowledgeable enough to know this. Or is borrowing to run a business that different from that done to run a country? I'd let the economists dissect that.
There's passion in his convictions, no doubt, and passion has its uses. But it seems, talking (so that they will not say I did not talk) was the intent here. Oops, sorry, I said I wasn't going to make that inference. My bad. Adding the tight-faced shushing of Dino was icing on the cake for me. Bravo Senator, bravo.
And for another, it might simply be the result of an overindulgent memory that juggles things from the past and the present with the adroitness of one with a finger on the pulse of tomorrow. This one will have quickly recalled how this was a song for the Assembly that was called every day of the school week and from where pupils marched soldierly to the classroom for the day's subjects. And it will have brought back a few tender memories of theirs from those beautiful days. And maybe a different song as well.