Fallacy of Bitter Pills

 

 

It must be the greatest fraud in history. It must be the height of insensitivity. It must be the apex of callousness. General Olusegun Obasanjo, last week admitted he knows we are “suffering.” But he insists we must suffer some more.  “I am not unaware of the sufferings in the land… However, except a patient braces up and swallows the right pill with all its bitterness, he may never be whole,” he said. 

 

Obasanjo and his “kitchen petroleum-economist,” Rasheed Gbadamosi, argue that we have reached a stage of evolution, where we no longer need to be regulated. Well, maybe. Maybe not. But the argument has reached a ridiculous level. Already, a lot has been deregulated – through the wholesale privatisation of public assets. Even the COJA houses are up for sale – usually to the rich. Now, Gbadamosi, head of Obasanjo’s fuel price hike syndicate, is implementing a 2001 brief. Then, he had hinted that the fuel price would be increased quarterly. Now, it’s almost bi-monthly.

 

Regulation, they argue, undermines our productivity and profitability; a free market would make us grow and thrive. All we need do is, like Peter Lewis, Workers Online editor said sarcastically of Australian deregulation, “smash the State and it would all be better.”

  

But it never gets better. The reality is that we stand to reap the Australian experience described as “a little less palatable”. We would end up with more “big winners” at the gaming table; but security, certainty, social responsibility and common decency would be the casualties. They are already in bad shape. But with whole sale deregulation, they would be extinct. The control of our social lives would be removed from the government we surrendered our sovereignty to, to corporate leaders who play by very different rules. 

 

It was Mark Twain who said ‘you need not be a weatherman to know which way the wind is blowing’. Similarly, you need not be a Marxist to see that unregulated capitalism will inevitably eat us up. Common sense figures that “sensible regulation” - shareholder democracy, competition, conducive environment and industrial relations - would serve our interest better.

 

Obasanjo’s bitter-pills theory is annoying because it does not take the above into account. The poor people are “shareholders” in this democracy and should be treated as such. They expect the much vaunted “democracy dividend.” Obasanjo’s bitter pill is another name for short changing the masses. It says nothing about industrial relations – for employers would not agree to increase pay in commensurate measure. The theory ignores environment as a factor in whole sale deregulation. But to succeed, deregulation  needs a favorable environment.

 

Obasanjo calls us “patients,” but we are actually victims of his bad policies. That is why Nigerians boo and jeer at him. It’s gotten so bad he now begs for praises and recognition. Last week, he implored the COJA athletes to give him just one gboza (hearty cheers). That’s how bad things can get.  Once bad policies chuck the heart, you can never get a cheer from the people. The heart is the engine room – pumping blood, life and emotions. No matter how good Obasanjo’s dry jokes, once the heart is blocked – whether by cells, anger or frustration - cheerfulness flees.

 

We may be sick, but nothing says only a bitter pill can cure an ailment. Bitter pills can’t be the only “right” one. In any case, no one likes anything bitter – pills or syrup. Not even Jesus Christ. On the cross, the scripture says, He rejected a bitter substance called vinegar and prayed the father to wave it. How much more impoverished, traumatised and harassed mortals. We rejected it with strike, Obasanjo pretended nothing happened. We have said it  in very simple words, he acts the deaf. But we say it again and again: we don’t want his bitter pills. He remains adamant. Like Dr Reuben Abati said, he is looking for trouble. And our blood would be on his head. He obviously lied to Nigerians, when he promised at a 1999 campaign outing to reduce fuel price from N22 to N8. Since then, he has increased it five times.

 

It is, indeed, fallacious to think, as Obasanjo and Gbadamosi do, that we must be on overdose of pills, sweet or bitter, to cure an ailment. Thank God they are not doctors. We probably would have had more deaths now than we already have from the socio-political hardship. Must a patient swallow a pill, even if it is capable of worsening his condition? Doesn’t common sense and general medical practice teach that pills should be taken in measured dosages – to get the expected good effect? We are even often warned to discontinue taking a pill once it does not go down well with our system. Where then did Obasanjo get his  bitter-pills theory from? Why does he want to shove a bucketful of the stuff down our throats?

 

Obasanjo can afford to hike fuel prices every day. He doesn’t buy fuel, neither do his children. He may ignore our feelings and misgivings. He may eventually go ahead to increase the fuel price (his bitter pills) to high heavens. But one thing’s for sure: he can never force us to give him our hearty cheers!

 

 

The Odds Against Ngige

What else does the Anambra State Election Tribunal need to do justice? Law, it is said, is based on hard evidence. Now that the police have confirmed that Chris Ngige got to the Anambra Government House through fraudulent means, why is he still there?

 

Last week, a police forensic expert said result sheets (Forms EC 8A(1)), from at least 12 local councils of the state, were doctored by INEC in favour of Ngige. Edward Kolawale, a DSP at the Force CID Alagbon, Lagos, used hi-tech equipment to prove that the overall result was faked. He talked about “interpolations, over-writing, super-imposition of figures and outright alteration of figures, among others.”

 

That indeed, was major evidence. It was a big relief that our police can still be thorough with facts.  It was gratifying that they can still stand by the truth. Nigerians are anxiously awaiting the Tribunal’s verdict. Would it follow the tested path of judicial process or should we expect “the usual”?  The usual, by the way, is a term Nigerians have coined for injustice and ingenious circumvention of the law. We are aware that there is now a “sacred cow” philosophy in Nigerian politics. They now settle serious criminal and judicial issues as “family matters.” But, please, with the police evidence, the tribunal should have pity on Ngige. The odds are against him. Please, have mercy and, well, send him home. He has suffered enough trauma and is currently unfocused – policy wise. Anambra deserves a person they voted for. As it stands, it certainly was not Ngige. 

 

• First published in Saturday Sun of  Nov 01, 2003