Arsenal legend, David Seaman, has told goalkeeper, Aaron Ramsdale that the club’s fans will ‘never forget’ his massive contribution to getting the Gunners back in the UEFA Champions League following his transfer deadline day move to Premier League side Southampton.

Recall that Ramsdale completed a £25m move to the Saints on Friday.

The 26-year-old signed a four-year contract with Southampton with an option of another 12 months.

Reacting, Seaman wrote on X:

“Wishing the very best of luck to a great friend and goalie Aaron Ramsdale as he makes his move to the Saints, a great opportunity to see him playing in the Premier League again.

“We’ll never forget his match-winning saves and massive contribution to getting us back into the Champions League again.

“I look forward to watching his progress and the continuation of his career from afar! See you on the golf course soon mate. Good luck!”

[DailyPost]

Last week, I watched the American Democratic Party’s National Convention on TV. It took place in Chicago and was so uplifting.  

A clutch of famous Democrats – Barack Obama, Michelle Obama, Oprah Winfrey and Hillary Clinton included – took to the vast stage to deliver stirring speeches and warm endorsements of presidential hopeful, Kamala Harris, and her running mate, Tim Walz.

Everything one could possibly hope for from a mass political gathering was happening in that stadium: The cool, upbeat music, the cheering swaying crowd, the beaming faces of delighted delegates representing every single United States of America…some so moved by the historic occasion that they had tears in their eyes. 

From the distant bedroom in Abuja in which I was remotely monitoring the show, I could feel the high-octane energy and joyful optimism in the convention venue.

The vibrant buzz was absolutely infectious; and I felt elated and envied the on-site audience for having so much fun and being able to hear, first hand, about the ideals their party holds dear and the policies it intends to embrace if Harris and Walz win the election.

BUT I also experienced the conflicting emotion of sadness.

As a long-time admirer of Kamala Harris, a stylish and cerebral lawyer who has both African and Indian roots (and Igbo in-laws!), I’d have loved to be there to celebrate, up close, the first-ever woman of colour being crowned as the great Democratic Party’s candidate.

But my sadness wasn’t JUST or even mostly about the fact that I hadn’t been invited (as if I ever stood a chance!). I didn’t JUST envy those who were there because they were lucky enough to be there.

The main cause of the gloom that eclipsed my elation at intervals was the fact that Nigerian conventions are NOTHING like this.

The shortest distance between Nigeria and the US is 6,630 miles. But it feels to me as if we are actually MILLIONS of miles apart…or on different planets entirely.

I have personally attended – as a media observer – quite a few Nigerian conventions (PDP as well as APC) over the years. And I’ve always found them pretty depressing.

There are no inspiring, heroic speeches or firm ideological stances. There is, instead, plenty of murky gossip about aspirants and incumbents who are bribing delegates…many of whom completely lack integrity and are ready to sell their votes to the highest bidder.

To be honest, I totally understand the cynicism of these transactional delegates. Some of them are nice people who would have been more principled in a different environment.

But they have bills to pay and children to feed/educate, and impoverished relatives to take care of in a country that has no proper welfare system for the downtrodden or average.

And it’s extremely difficult to earn a credible income in Nigeria in decent ways. And nothing ever changes for the better in this dubious political environment when it comes to ethics and performance. Governance here is mostly about cabals gaining access to purse strings and enriching themselves and their cronies.

That’s why the refineries don’t work. That’s why power cuts are still widespread and frequent. That’s why so many dysfunctions prevail. That’s why no matter how much suffering citizens complain, the elite continues to be predatory. That’s why a nation with abundant resources that should be a huge success is floundering.

So if you get an opportunity to become a junior crony or delegate and insist on rejecting bribes from rapacious politicians we all know are not going to do much (or anything) for the society as a whole, you are on your own o!

Firstly, you might even be victimised or arrested on trumped-up charges for offending various Big Boys by refusing to participate in the corrupt jamboree that is the average Naija political convention.

You’ll also face hostility from other delegates who feel guilty for selling out or regard you as a sanctimonious ass hole who deserves a few slaps or are simply afraid that you will whistle-blow if you are not a fellow bribe recipient and therefore not a member of their club.

Secondly, your lone voice in the wilderness is not going to change anything. The point you are trying to make will be drowned out by a majority that is allergic to principles and fond of skulduggery.

So, yeah, it’s easier to just take the money.

Suicidal protesters

Farooq Kperogi is one of  my favourite commentators. And I cannot improve on his eloquence, so let me just directly quote some comments he has made about the EndBadGovernance protests.

I heartily agree with him and am so upset about the revelation that some Northern protesters WANTED to die:

“…The misery that Tinubu’s simultaneous policies of never-before-seen astronomical petrol price increase and devaluation of the naira unleashed on the country are felt more deeply in the North than in any part of the country because of the pre-existing multidimensional poverty in the region and the pervading insecurity that makes farming almost impossible.

“Money is now both hard to find and worthless when it is found, and food is both hard to find and unaffordable when it is found. That is an unprecedentedly profound, not to mention unsurvivable, existential torment.

“Two days after the #EndBadGovernance protests started, I told someone that many people in the North have been rendered so desolate, so destitute, and so despondent by the economic crunch that they are looking to cash in on the protests to commit suicide by police bullets because Islam forbids suicide.

“Islam teaches that committing suicide guarantees an unfettered passage to the hottest depths of hell fire in the hereafter. I said many people who couldn’t survive the pain and humiliation of perpetual hunger might tempt security forces to shoot them so they could end it all and not fear that they would provoke the wrath of their Creator for committing suicide.

“Of course, this is twisted thinking because a famous hadith, which every Muslim who took Islamic Studies in secondary school knows, says: “Actions shall be judged according to intention.”

THE red flag was emblazoned on the big screen. It did not signify any danger. It had a single star in the middle. Indeed, the flag belongs to a shining star in the firmament of resistance against practicably impossible odds.

In the Biblical story, there was a David who took on Goliath and brought the giant down. But the David I write about militarily brought three Goliaths: Japan from Asia, France from Europe and the United States from North America, down to their knees. This was done two decades apart!

This Monday, August 26, 2024, as I attended the National Day of the Socialist Republic of Vietnam in Abuja, these were the reminiscences that flashed through my mind.

I was at the reception not just to honour the country’s invitation extended to me by its friendly Ambassador Bui Quoc Hung, but also, in a sense, to pay tribute to two of the Twentieth Century’s greatest men, Ho Chin Minh, affectionately called Uncle Ho and, General Vo Nguyen Giap who taught the poor how to fight and win.

Uncle Ho was one of the founders of the French Communist Party in 1920 before returning home a decade later to establish the Communist Party of Vietnam. From then until he marched on 39 years later, he was physically at war with powers that sought to subjugate his country.

To stay alive, and a step ahead of the local and international powers who wanted to eliminate him, he had to adopt over 50 aliases. He also had to camouflage his past so much that despite the fact that he was President for 24 years from 1945, his exact names, birthday and basic dates about his early life could not be ascertained. In fact, he used five birthdays: 1890, 1891,1892, 1894 and 1895. So, officials had to reach a consensus to adopt 1890 as his official birthday and accept Nguyen Sinh Cung as his real name.

But despite the wars he led, his being a brilliant strategist and famous victories in the battlefield, Uncle Ho was a simple man. He was a journalist by profession and a consummate writer and poet who wrote in Chinese, Vietnamese and French. He also spoke English and Russian.

Ho’s life can be used to plot the graph of the three major wars this country of 90 million people had to fight to gain the independence it bequeathed to this generation.

France had colonised Vietnam in 1884. When the Second World War broke, Uncle Ho led the people to fight France for independence. In the process, Japan invaded and occupied the country. So Vietnam had to wage war against both the colonialists and the Japanese forces of occupation. With the international defeat of Japan in 1945, Vietnam proclaimed its independence, only for France to return, wanting to resume its colonial proprietorship.

France with its mighty arsenal backed by its Western allies thought the war would be a walkover. But the issue was settled in one of the most famous combats in world history: the 1954 Battle of Dien Bien Phu. It took place from March 13 to May 7, 1954 and showed the military brilliance of the Vietnamese led by Uncle Ho and General Giap.

The major French military base was nestled in the seemingly impregnable valley of the Dien Bien Phu mountain. It could only be reached by air and the Vietnamese did not have air power. France never imagined that the Vietnamese could hurl heavy military equipment, including artillery and anti-aircraft guns over the mountains and surround its military base. The Vietnamese employed both military attacks and starvation as the French military could not be resupplied food.

The defeat of France came at a very high cost to both sides. Vietnam lost over 200,000 people, France and its allies, including the US, lost over 70,000 soldiers, with 65,000 injured and 40,000 taken prisoner.

However, the US did not want the Vietnamese to exercise their sovereignty. First, they had just militarily defeated France, a super power with lots of colonies. This, the American establishment felt, could lead to copycat actions. Indeed, the Algerians did by picking up the gun on November 1, 1954 to chase France out. Secondly, and perhaps more serious, was the fact that Uncle Ho and his followers were socialists which in the Cold War era was intolerable to the US. So in 1955, it began the invasion of Vietnam. But it needed an excuse to declare a full scale war. So in August 1964, two US destroyers stationed in the Gulf of Tokin claimed they had been fired upon by the Vietnamese. They were false claims, but that was all President Lyndon Baines Johnson needed to persuade Congress grant his government permission to increase US military presence in Indochina. The following year, the US had a full scale war going on in Vietnam.

It would turn out to be one of America’s costliest mistakes as the anti-Vietnam War movement internally shook it to its very foundation. More importantly, the mighty US military, despite committing a total 9,087,000 combatants, had to kiss the Vietnamese dust.

It was one of the most brutal wars the US has ever waged; Vietnamese villages, towns and cities were obliterated. After the Americans wiped out Ben Tre, a town with 35,000 Vietnamese, Associated Press journalist, Peter Arnett, flew there. In surveying the obliteration of the town, he interviewed an American Major who infamously said: “We had to destroy the city in order to save it.”

A major characteristic of that war was the USA’s wilful use of biological and chemical weapons. These included Agent White, Agent Blue, Agent Green, Agent Purple, Agent Pink, and, the worst, Agent Orange.

Agent Orange was mainly a very dangerous chemical contaminant called dioxin which causes diabetes, Parkinson’s disease, and various types of cancer. It was so dangerous that any US soldier exposed to it, qualified for disability benefits.

Agent Orange accounted for 61 per cent of the chemical weapons US used. Decades later, the Vietnamese, including newly born babies, still suffered from the effects.

When in 1973, the Nobel Peace Prize was jointly awarded to US Secretary of State, Henry Kissinger, who led the American peace negotiations, and his Vietnamese counterpart, Le Duc Tho, the latter rejected it. Such was the ideological orientation Uncle Ho had instilled in the Vietnamese.

Some two million Vietnamese were killed in the war while 58,202 US soldiers lost their lives and 75,000 were severely disabled.

The Vietnamese rose from the ashes of that war to rebuild their country as a united entity, confident that for a long time no country would dare invade their ancestral homes. This is why the children of Uncle Ho deserve the star in their national flag.

At present, sustainability reporting in Nigeria has been a voluntary initiative by companies engaging in such practice. Although, the premium board listed companies are required by the Stock Exchange to engage in sustainability reporting, it is not a mandatory requirement. The motivation for engaging in such reporting has been traced to philanthropy, Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR) and giving back to the society. It is seeking for good image and reputation. This is why such reporting has been criticised for its greenwashing.  

A look at some of the published sustainability reports in the Nigerian capital market will show pictures of commissioning community projects such as water, roads, hospitals, schools or donations, scholarships etc. Greenwashing is the act of making inflated, bogus, exaggerated, or misleading statements in corporate reporting. Images of the pictures in sustainability reports may not be a true reflection of the reality on ground example oil spills of oil and gas companies, or health problems caused by cement companies or casual workers and financed emissions of banks. No pictures capture these.

The marketing, or good image making and enhancement motivation behind such sustainability reporting can also be seen in the claim that one company’s sustainability report complies with multiple sustainability reporting standards and guidelines example the GRI, SASB, IIRC, CDP, CDSB, TCFD, Sustainable Banking Principles, Equator Principles, UN Global Compact principles, UN SDGs among others. How? From the above, one can have a glimpse of the insanity and chaos pervading voluntary sustainability reporting in Nigeria at the moment. This calls for sanity restoration.

The starting point for restoring sanity in sustainability reporting can be traced to events at the global level which saw the merger between IIRC and US SASB to form the Value Reporting Foundation (VRF) in 2020. VRF was subsequently absorbed by ISSB along with CDSB after COP 26 in Glasgow. This was in response to IFAC calling on the IFRS Foundation to come and restore sanity in the sustainability reporting landscape, in which accountants are expected to play a leading role. TCFD formed the foundation of the ISSB’s initial standards.

The ISSB’s Chairman, Mr Emmanuel Faber personally launched the Nigerian adoption roadmap in a ceremony organised by FRC and NGX RegCo at the NGX building in Lagos. Nigeria had earlier become the first country in Africa to adopt the ISSB’s standard. The roadmap was midwifed by the Adoption Readiness Working Group (ARWG) which FRC inaugurated on 6 June 2023.

Under the roadmap there are 4 categories of adopters with assigned adoption dates. These are (1) early adopters for accounting period ending on or before December 31, 2023 (2) voluntary adopters for accounting period ending or before December, 2026 (3) mandatory adopters for accounting period beginning on or after 1 January, 2027. This mandatory phase is categorized into three which includes (1) Significant Public Interest Entities (PIEs) (2027); (2) Other PIEs (2028) and finally (3) SMEs (2030). So, we are at the voluntary phase which will last till 2027 before it becomes mandatory.

The fourth category is public sector entities (2030), which date is to allow the International Public Sector Accounting Standard (IPSASB) come up with public sector sustainability standard. Already the IPSASB has announced in June 2023 that it would begin developing a Climate-related Disclosures standard, a first for the public sector and is currently doing so with the support from the World Bank. The aim is to develop a global baseline for sustainability reporting in the public sector as ISSB has done for the private sector.

The FRC and Nigerian Integrated Reporting Committee (NIRC) have signed an MOU under which the NIRC supports FRC in the ISSB’s sustainability standards adoption, advocacy, capacity building and technical implementation works. As part of the capacity building effort, FRC-NIRC has conducted Sustainability Awareness capacity building for the financial sector in Abuja between 10th and 11th July, 2024 with Oil and Gas and Telecommunication scheduled to hold on 4th and 5th September, 2024 in Lagos. This will be followed by the manufacturing sector, the Regulators and assurance providers. A regulatory Round Table on implementation of the standards took place on July 15, 2024 in Abuja, where all the regulators agreed to work collaboratively to achieve the objective of the adoption.

Globally, over 20 jurisdictions have already adopted or are taking steps to introduce ISSB Standards in their legal or regulatory frameworks. Together, these jurisdictions account for: (1) nearly 55% of global GDP; (2) more than 40% of global market capitalisation; and (3) more than half of global greenhouse gas emissions. Together, the 20 plus jurisdictions that have taken steps to adopt or otherwise use ISSB Standards account for around 75% of global market capitalisation excluding the United States. The IOSCO has already endorsed the ISSB’s sustainability standards

Thus there is unprecedented move from voluntary to mandatory sustainability reporting both at the global and national level in Nigeria.

Under the ISSB’s Sustainability Standards, verifiable metrics and targets which preparers and users can lean on to measure entities’ true performance on the sustainability topics will define sustainability reporting. It will no longer be pictures of commissioning CSR projects that will define sustainability reporting. Professional accountants will come in with their expert reporting skills, internal control over information system, assurance and professional scepticism, working with sustainability professionals to bring, authenticity and trust to sustainability reporting thereby exorcising the spirit of greenwashing and bringing sanity to the landscape.

This sanity will be evidenced by professional accountants bringing the same level of rigour in financial reporting to sustainability reporting. Already IFRS S1 has stipulated the two fundamental qualitative characteristics that underpin financial reporting to also underpin sustainability reporting. These are relevance and faithful representation. Similarly, enhancing qualitative characteristics of financial reporting such as comparability, verifiability, timeliness and understandability also underpin sustainability reporting. Then with these, reasonable assurance will kick in and users can now trust sustainability information as they currently do for financial reporting. That is final sanity restored.

Okwuosa PhD, FCA is the Chairman, Nigerian Integrated Reporting Committee and Immediate Past President, Institute of Chartered Accountants of Nigeria

The directive by education minister Professor Tahir Mamman to the West African Examinations Council (WAEC) and the National Examinations Council to not register candidates who are below 18 for next year’s school certificate examinations is generating knee-jerk resistance from people who are obviously nescient of the psychology and philosophy behind age benchmarks in education.

In most countries of the world, children don’t start primary school until they are 6, and young adults don’t start university until they are 18. That used to be true in Nigeria, too—until parents chose to skirt the law, upend time-tested tradition, and commit mass child abuse in the name of fast-tracking the education their children.

In fact, contrary to what the Nigerian news media has been reporting, Professor Mamman has not created a new law; he is only implementing the existing law. He hasn’t “banned” under-18 students from taking school certificate exams; he has merely chosen to enforce an extant law, which has been serially violated by overeager parents who want their children to get ahead by any means.

The 1982 education policy, also called the 6:3:3:4 system, requires that children should be at least 5 years old to start pre-primary school and at least 6 years old to start primary school. If a 6-year-old spends 6 years in primary school, 3 years in junior secondary school, and another 3 years in secondary school, they would be 18 by the time they graduate from secondary school.

This is the global standard. In the United States, students apply to enter universities between the ages of 18 and 19 (because if you don’t turn 6 in September of the year you want to start First Grade, you have to wait until next year). In Finland, Canada, the Netherlands, Japan, South Africa, Germany, the United Kingdom, France, Denmark, etc. it is 18.

The age benchmark isn’t arbitrary. It is based on time-honored insights from developmental psychology and educational research, which examined the cognitive, social, and emotional developments of children.

For example, Jean Piaget’s stages of cognitive development tell us that around age 6, children transition from what is called the preoperational stage to the concrete operational stage, at which point they begin to develop logical thinking, which is essential for learning the structured curriculum of primary school education, such as reading, writing, and mathematics.

Research also shows that children develop the social skills needed to interact with peers and teachers in a school environment and the attention span necessary to learn, absorb information, and stay engaged at 6, and that children who start school too early struggle with these skills, which can lead to long-term challenges in academic and social areas.

That was why the late Professor Aliu Babatunde Fafunwa was famous for saying any education of children before the age of 5 is a waste of time and even child abuse. From ages 1 through 5, children should be allowed to be children: sleep, play, laugh, and grow. Of course, I recognize that because most mothers now work, enrolling children in schools earlier than is ideal is a necessity. But the busy schedule of parents is no excuse to buck science, ignore the requirements of a well-integrated childhood, and contribute to the mass production of maladjusted adults.

Similarly, research in developmental psychology shows that by age 18, most teenagers have reached a level of emotional and social maturity that enables them to live independently, make decisions, and handle the challenges of university life.

 Neuroscientific research also shows that the brain continues to develop well into the early twenties, particularly the prefrontal cortex, which is responsible for decision-making, impulse control, and planning. By age 18, the brain has typically matured enough to handle the complex cognitive demands of higher education.

Plus, in many countries, including in Nigeria, 18 is the age of legal adulthood, which aligns with the transition to university. This legal framework supports the idea that students are ready to take on the responsibilities associated with higher education, such as managing their own time, finances, and education.

Of course, as with everything, there are always exceptions. Precocious children can and do skip grades and start university earlier than 18 even in the United States and elsewhere. There are exceptionally gifted children who graduate from university as early as 11. But such students undergo rigorous tests to determine that they have intelligence that is far ahead of normal developmental schedules. They are also few and far between.

That’s not the situation in Nigeria. Just like our bad national habit of always wanting to jump the queue—what Americans call cut in line—Nigerian parents have, over the years, developed impatience for the normal development schedules of their children and want them to get ahead against the evidence of science, common sense, and even the law of the land.

 It is not because their children are exceptional. In fact, they are often mediocre. For example, my brother’s son, who is only 14 years old and with average intelligence, registered to take his WAEC exam this year. I told my brother that was inexcusable child abuse.

 Nigeria has a bad reputation across the world for sending underage children not just to domestic universities but also to foreign universities. People who work at the International Student and Scholar Services at the university where I am a professor have asked me multiple times why only Nigeria sends underage students here.

The consensus is that such students often lack maturity, have difficulty engaging in adult conversations, and struggle to fit in and get the best of the opportunities they have.

Several Nigerians who teach at other U.S. universities share the same stories. As I pointed out earlier, here in the United States, like in most other countries of the world, students don’t begin their undergraduate education until they are 18, which also happens to be the age of consent. A student who is under 18, by law, can’t attend several extra-curricular activities undergraduates typically take part in.

They need waivers signed by their parents to participate in certain activities, but since their parents are often in Nigeria, they pose logistical nightmares for universities.

For example, in the United States, by law, you can’t sign a lease agreement (to rent an apartment) if you are not at least 18 years old. Many underage Nigerian undergraduates at my school require an adult to co-sign for them. Since their parents are in Nigeria, the burden often falls on Nigerian professors and staff, who are understandably reluctant to co-sign leases of underage strangers who could break their agreements and put us in legal jeopardy.

Dating is also a treacherous legal minefield for the American classmates of underage Nigerian undergraduates in American universities. Having intimate relationship with anyone who is under 18 is statutory rape, even if it is consensual. I am aware of the story of a 17-year-old second-year Nigerian undergraduate girl who had a disagreement with her boyfriend who was from another African country.

Neighbors called the police to intervene. When the police asked for their ID cards, they discovered that the Nigerian girl was underaged. It led to the imprisonment—and later deportation— of the man for statutory rape even when their relationship was consensual. Stories like this are not unique.

Unless someone is exceptionally gifted, which should be proved conclusively with special tests, they should not start university earlier than 18. Fortunately, that is already the law, which is informed by the consensus of research findings in developmental psychology, neuroscience, and social research.  Professor Mamman has only signaled his readiness to apply the law. He has my full support.

I read that the National Parent Teacher Association of Nigeria (NAPTAN) said they would sue the federal government for indicating readiness to implement a law that has been in the books for more than 40 years. Good luck with that!

As we reflect on the 33rd anniversary of our beloved state's creation, marked on Tuesday, August 27, 2024, I extend heartfelt congratulations to every son and daughter of this great state. This milestone offers a moment to reflect on our journey and envision the boundless potential that lies ahead.

First and foremost, I pay tribute to the visionary founders who fought tirelessly for the creation of Edo State. Their foresight and determination laid the foundation for the progress we have witnessed over the past three decades. We stand on the shoulders of these giants, and their legacy continues to inspire us.

The indomitable spirit of the Edo people has been the driving force behind our state's progress. Our people have demonstrated remarkable resilience, creativity, and entrepreneurial zeal. This spirit has propelled us forward, even in the face of daunting challenges. Our state has produced leaders in various fields—from academia to industry, from sports to the arts. The entrepreneurial drive of our people has been particularly noteworthy. Edo sons and daughters have consistently demonstrated their ability to create value and drive economic growth. This spirit of enterprise is a precious resource that holds the key to our future prosperity.

However, as we reflect on these achievements, we must also confront the stark realities that face us today.

The current administration celebrates our 33rd anniversary with pomp and pageantry, brandishing statistics of its supposed achievements. Yet, as I have traversed the length and breadth of our state—from Benin City to Auchi to Uromi—I have witnessed a stark disconnect between these lofty claims and the harsh realities on the ground.

The suffering of our people has reached unprecedented levels under this outgoing government, which began its tenure under the All Progressives Congress (APC) and concludes under the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP). This political somersault has brought no relief to the common man. Instead, it has only deepened the wounds of misgovernance and unfulfilled promises. The past eight years have been a masterclass in the politics of deception—a government that changed parties but maintained the same disregard for the welfare of its citizens.

Our youths, once brimming with hope and vigour, now find themselves trapped in a cycle of unemployment and despair. Our elderly, who should be enjoying the fruits of their labour, are struggling. Our farmers, the backbone of our economy, grapple with inadequate support and crumbling infrastructure. The dreams of a prosperous Edo State, which burned bright 33 years ago, now flicker

precariously in the winds of neglect and mismanagement.

But even in these challenging times, I see reason for hope. In my journeys across the state, I have been inspired by the resilience of our people. I have met young people who, despite all odds, are creating innovative solutions to local problems. The stories of everyday courage and perseverance remind us of the true spirit of Edo State—a spirit that no amount of misgovernance can extinguish.

It is this indomitable spirit that we must now channel into charting a new course for our state. In just 23 days, on September 21, 2024, we stand at a critical crossroads. In 23 days, we have the power to rewrite the story of our state to cast aside the failures of the past and vote for a future that truly reflects the greatness of our people. This election is more than a political contest; it is a battle for the soul of Edo State. It is a choice between continuing down the path of unfulfilled promises and embarking on a journey of genuine transformation.

The journey ahead will be challenging, but the rewards are immeasurable. Together, we can transform Edo State into a land of opportunity, where every citizen has the chance to reach their full potential. We can create a state where our children no longer dream of escaping abroad but aspire to build their futures right here at home. A state where innovation thrives, where small businesses flourish, and where our natural and human resources are leveraged to create sustainable wealth for all.

Together, we can build an Edo State that will give us genuine reasons to celebrate in the years to come. A state where progress is not measured by the wealth of a few but by the well-being of all. The task ahead is enormous, but so is our capacity to meet it. The history of Edo State is replete with stories of triumph over adversity, and I have no doubt that we will rise to this occasion once again.

May God bless Edo State, and may He grant us the wisdom to make the right

choice for our future.

OLUMIDE OSAIGBOVO AKPATA

Candidate of the Labour Party, Edo 2024 Election

29 August 2024

The candidate of the Peoples Democratic Party, Dr. Asue Ighodalo, has once again demonstrated his superior position in the Edo governorship race as the most prepared candidate. In recent media engagements, he delivered a clear, concise, and compelling outline of his vision and plan for Edo State. 

Speaking to his “Pathway to Prosperity” manifesto, which is anchored on five strategic pillars beginning with improved security, he explained his mission as seeking to grow the economic pie so that Edo people can enjoy more, unlike those who are seeking a return with a bitter vengeance to consume the pie because years outside of governance have left them starving.

On specific investment needs to address the seemingly intractable problems of water and infrastructure gaps in some local governments in the state, he detailed his agenda to revamp the state’s polity and economy to attract investments. 

The state’s revenue profile has grown under Governor Godwin Obaseki, but so has its financial obligations. To solve the urgent problems of today and position the state for growth, the government must creatively mobilize resources from sources that share its vision. The Federal Government is attempting this at the national level, and it is here that the distinction between Ighodalo and his closest rival, the rambling candidate of the All Progressives Congress, Senator Monday Okpebholo, couldn’t be any clearer.

If the interview was a pitch for investment, it was obvious who carried the day. While Ighodalo impressed and persuaded, Okpebholo did not even make an appearance. The APC candidate remains in hiding because he lacks the courage and competence to engage without support and directives from his programmers, the whispering elder and pastor. 

The news anchors confirmed the sad reality, with one of them remarking on Ighodalo’s capacity for clear communication, unlike his rival whose utterances cause so much controversy that his party and supporters find themselves fighting everyone over the intended meaning.

Ighodalo made a cogent point: everything rises and falls with security. This can be guaranteed with increased deployment of well-trained security personnel and better corporate governance. 

Criminals and thugs spreading terror must be shown no hiding place. Investors must also trust that the state is a safe haven for expensive projects and that their money, when it arrives, will be used to unlock opportunities for young people, not appease godfathers.

Ighodalo has spent decades of his life raising funds from the international community and building trust. Okpebholo’s only known contribution is being a willing and pliable tool in the hands of the godfathers whose obsession with power and control exceeds their concern for effective governance and development. One of them has been caught on the record disparaging education, while the other one is hopping around with an evil message of ethnic division and strife.

Okpebholo’s campaign has been about sharing the money. Those who are excited by this make the mistake of thinking the “sharing” will get to them. They are the unwitting chickens celebrating the declaration of Christmas, painfully oblivious to the fact that their slaughter is what makes the occasion merry. 

Ighodalo, meanwhile, has underscored that he wishes to share prosperity with all. In other words, he is not running as a placeholder for shadow men seeking a return of the days when their expenses and taste for the finer things of life were settled with government funds. He is seeking the opportunity to lead so he can apply his knowledge and network for the betterment of the people’s lives.

He wants better education for Edo children because unlike the Pastor-Politician, he does not believe in the ‘school-na-scam’ message. His success is, after all, a direct product of sound education. That is why he can stand on his two feet and defend his records on any stage, not hide behind old men dancing for attention when they ought to be nursing their legacy.

He wants to grow the economy and provide access to opportunities for all, not divert state funds to those who consider politics a means to self-enrichment. That is his pitch to investors and Edo people, and it is a winning pitch.

In contemporary discourse, the term “whizkid” can refer to two distinct, yet equally significant figures: the musical Wizkid, a Nigerian superstar known for his infectious rhythms and global influence, and the intellectual whizkid, a young prodigy excelling in academics or specialized fields. While the former captivates audiences with his artistry and cultural impact, the latter represents the potential and promise of the youth, driving innovation and progress in society.

However, recent developments in Nigeria, particularly the pegging of age limits for writing the West African Senior School Certificate Examinations (WASSCE) at 18 years of age, have raised concerns about the future of these intellectual whizkids.

Nevertheless, critical stakeholders in the education sector have condemned the decision of the Federal Government to peg the age at which students can write the Senior Secondary School Certificate Examinations, SSCE, at 18, saying it will simply draw the sector back.

In fact, there have been flurries of reactions to the comment by the Minister of Education, Professor TahirMamman, that from 2025, any candidate, who is not up to 18 will not be allowed to write the examination and without doing so, such candidate won’t be able to seek admission into tertiary institutions.

This controversial decision has been met with criticism, as many view it as a retrogressive step that stifles the aspirations of young learners. The implications of such a policy could be detrimental, not only to individual students but also to the broader educational landscape. Are we, as a society, inadvertently placing barriers in front of our brightest minds? Who truly wants to kill the whizkid spirit in Nigeria?

The age limit for WASSCE examinations could potentially exclude many capable students who, for various reasons, may not fit the conventional timeline of education. This move raises questions about inclusivity and the recognition of diverse learning paths. The intellectual whizkids, who often demonstrate exceptional abilities outside the traditional framework, may find themselves marginalized, unable to showcase their talents and knowledge.

As we navigate this complex issue, it is crucial to advocate for policies that empower rather than restrict our youth. The future of Nigeria depends on nurturing its whizkids, musical and intellectual, ensuring they have the opportunities to thrive and contribute to society. Let us not allow outdated regulations to extinguish the flames of creativity and intelligence that our young people embody.

In a nation where academic brilliance is often celebrated as a ticket to a brighter future, recent pronouncements by the Nigerian Federal Government regarding age restrictions for writing the West African Senior School Certificate Examination (WASCE) and General Certificate of Education (GCE) have raised eyebrows. The move, which seeks to impose an age limit, has sparked a debate that strikes at the heart of educational equity and the nurturing of young talents. But who stands to gain from this policy, and more importantly, who stands to lose? Are we inadvertently stifling the very whizkids who could be the nation’s future trailblazers?

Without a doubt, Nigeria has a proud history of young academic prodigies who have defied the odds, achieving extraordinary academic feats at tender ages. These whizkids, often seen as outliers, have brought pride not only to their families but to the entire nation. They are a testament to what can be achieved when talent is recognized and nurtured from an early age. These young geniuses have gone on to excel in fields ranging from science and technology to arts and humanities, both locally and on the global stage.

The new policy proposes that students must attain a certain age before being eligible to sit for the WASC/GCE exams. Proponents argue that this will ensure students are more mature and better prepared to handle the pressures of these examinations. However, this perspective overlooks a critical aspect of child development: the unique trajectory of gifted children.

In fact, gifted children often exhibit advanced intellectual capabilities far beyond their years. Imposing an age restriction on when they can sit for exams could result in unnecessary delays in their educational progression, potentially dampening their enthusiasm for learning. These children do not fit neatly into the conventional educational timelines; forcing them to do so could be detrimental to their intellectual and emotional growth.

One of the most significant risks of this policy is the potential to frustrate and demotivate young talents. Forcing a child who is ready to take on academic challenges to wait until they reach a certain age can lead to boredom, frustration, and even a loss of interest in academics. The very system that should be nurturing their gifts could instead become an obstacle in their path.

Moreover, this policy might inadvertently signal to society that conforming to a standard timeline is more important than recognizing and cultivating individual talents. It could create a culture where fitting in is prioritized over standing out, where the fear of being seen as “different” stifles the very essence of what makes these young geniuses special.

While the intentions behind the age limit policy may be rooted in a desire to protect students, it is crucial to recognize that one-size-fits-all solutions rarely work in education. The focus should be on creating a flexible system that caters to the diverse needs of all students, including the whizzkids. Instead of imposing age restrictions, the government should consider alternative measures such as personalized education plans, mentorship programs, and accelerated learning tracks that allow gifted students to flourish at their own pace.

Nigeria cannot afford to frustrate its young geniuses. These children represent the future, and it is our collective responsibility to ensure they are given every opportunity to succeed. The nation’s progress depends on how well we nurture and support the brightest minds, regardless of their age. Let us not be the ones to dim their light.

There is no denying the fact that the recent introduction of an education loan scheme by the federal government highlights a significant shift in the country’s approach to financing higher education. For many, this initiative has been met with a mixture of hope and skepticism. While the prospect of accessible education loans is auspicious, it raises crucial questions about the government’s commitment to integrity, fairness, and transparency in administering these funds.

Without a doubt, education is often regarded as the cornerstone of national development, yet access to quality higher education in Nigeria has long been a privilege of the few who can afford it. Little wonder the introduction of an education loan scheme aims to bridge this gap was received with excitement by not a few Nigerians. This is as it is aimed at offering students from diverse economic backgrounds the opportunity to pursue their academic aspirations. In fact, this initiative is particularly timely given the rising costs of tuition fees, which have placed a significant burden on many Nigerian families.

As clearly stated in several statements so far issued by the government through its public engagement representatives, the loan scheme is designed to ensure that no qualified student is denied the chance of furthering his or her education due to financial constraints. By providing financial support to students who would otherwise struggle to afford tuition fees, the government, as gathered, is ostensibly making a commendable effort to democratize access to higher education. However, the success of this initiative hinges on the principles of integrity, fairness, and transparency in its execution.

So, given the foregoing views, it is germane to opine that for the education loan scheme to achieve its intended goals, the government must demonstrate unwavering integrity in its administration. This involves ensuring that the selection process for loan beneficiaries is merit-based, free from corruption, and devoid of nepotism. There have been concerns in the past about the mismanagement of funds in various government initiatives, and it is imperative that this education loan does not fall prey to similar pitfalls.

Integrity in this context also means that the government must remain committed to the long-term sustainability of the loan scheme. This includes establishing clear and realistic repayment plans that do not become a burden on graduates who are just beginning their careers. The government must also ensure that the funds allocated for the scheme are used solely for their intended purpose, with strict oversight mechanisms in place to prevent any form of diversion or embezzlement.

Fairness is another critical aspect that will determine the success of the education loan scheme. The application and selection processes must be transparent and accessible to all eligible students, regardless of their socio-economic background, ethnicity, or region. There should be no room for favoritism or bias, and every applicant should be given an equal opportunity to benefit from the scheme.

Moreover, the criteria for determining eligibility must be clear and justifiable. It is essential that the government sets reasonable benchmarks that ensure only those who genuinely need financial assistance are granted loans, while also avoiding overly stringent requirements that could exclude deserving candidates. Fairness also extends to the repayment terms, which should be structured in a way that is considerate of the economic realities facing graduates in Nigeria today.

Transparency is perhaps the most crucial factor that will build public trust in the education loan scheme. The government must be open about every aspect of the program, from the total amount of funds allocated to how the loans are disbursed and managed. Regular audits should be conducted and the findings made public to ensure accountability at every stage.

Additionally, the process for applying for and receiving the loan should be straightforward and user-friendly. The government must provide clear information on how students can apply, what documents are required, and how long the process will take. There should be no hidden fees or unexpected charges, and applicants should be kept informed of the status of their applications throughout the process.

While the introduction of an education loan scheme in Nigeria is a commendable step toward making higher education more accessible, it is crucial that the government upholds the highest standards of integrity, fairness, and transparency in its administration. The success of this initiative depends not only on the availability of funds but also on the trust that the Nigerian people place in the system.

As stakeholders in the education sector, including students, parents, and educational institutions, it is important to remain vigilant and hold the government accountable for the promises made. By doing so, we can ensure that the education loan scheme fulfills its purpose of empowering Nigerian students and contributing to the nation’s development.

Against the foregoing backdrop, it is germane to opine that the government now has the opportunity to prove that it can be integrous, fair, and transparent in its dealings. Therefore, for the sake of Nigeria’s future, we hope the government and its representatives assigned to disburse this loan rise to the occasion.

In the landscape of Nigerian governance, a pervasive culture of self-interest has taken root. This mindset, where individuals prioritize personal gain over collective welfare, has significantly hindered the nation’s progress. The question “What can I get?” echoes through the corridors of power, overshadowing the more altruistic “What can I give?”

From the highest echelons of government to local councils, the pursuit of personal enrichment often takes precedence over public service. This culture is not confined to politicians alone; it permeates various sectors, including business and civil society. The result is a governance system plagued by corruption, inefficiency, and a lack of accountability.

The consequences of this self-serving attitude are profound. Essential services such as healthcare, education, and infrastructure suffer due to misallocation of resources and embezzlement. Public trust in government institutions erodes, leading to widespread apathy and disengagement among citizens. The 2023 elections, for instance, were marked by promises of change and renewed hope, yet the reality has been a continuation of the same challenges.

For Nigeria to achieve sustainable development, a fundamental shift in mindset is required. Leaders and citizens alike must embrace a culture of service and collective responsibility. This involves prioritizing the common good over personal gain and fostering a sense of duty towards the nation.

There are glimmers of hope. Some local governments and civil society organizations are championing transparency and accountability. Initiatives aimed at improving governance through citizen engagement and technological innovation is gaining traction. These efforts demonstrate that change is possible when the focus shifts from self-interest to collective welfare.

The journey towards better governance in Nigeria is fraught with challenges, but it is not insurmountable. By asking “What can I give?” instead of “What can I get?” Nigerians can build a more equitable and prosperous society. It requires a collective effort, a commitment to integrity, and a willingness to prioritize the nation’s future over individual gain.

Without any scintilla of hyperbole, there is one troubling question in Nigeria that seems to reverberate across the corridors of power: “What can I get?” This mindset, entrenched in both leadership and the citizenry, has become a significant obstacle to national development and social cohesion. Rarely do we hear the complementary question that is crucial for any society’s progress: “What can I give?” This absence of a giving mindset is emblematic of the systemic problems that have continued to plague Nigeria, from corruption and governance failures to a lack of accountability and civic responsibility.

In fact, from the highest echelons of government to the average citizen, the pursuit of personal gain often supersedes the collective good. Politicians, once elected, focus on amassing wealth and securing their positions, rather than delivering on campaign promises or working for the betterment of their constituencies. Public offices are often viewed as opportunities for self-enrichment, with the primary goal being to extract as much as possible from the system before one’s tenure ends.

This “what can I get?” mentality isn’t confined to politicians alone. It permeates the entire society. For many citizens, the government is seen not as a system of governance and service delivery but as a resource to be exploited. The common refrain is, “How can I benefit?”, whether through contracts, appointments, or even minor acts like bribing an official to cut through bureaucratic red tape. The idea of contributing to the common good or making sacrifices for the country’s advancement is, unfortunately, alien to many.

The consequences of this mindset are far-reaching and devastating. Corruption has become endemic, eroding trust in public institutions and crippling the nation’s ability to develop. Critical sectors like education, healthcare, and infrastructure have suffered neglect, as funds meant for public projects are siphoned off into private pockets. The result is a country rich in natural resources but poor in human development indices, where the majority of the population struggles to access basic necessities.

Furthermore, this self-serving approach to governance fosters a culture of impunity. When leaders are focused solely on personal gain, there is little incentive to hold anyone accountable. Corruption cases are often swept under the rug, and those who dare to speak out are silenced or marginalized. This creates a vicious cycle where corrupt practices are normalized, and any sense of public duty is eroded.

Imagine a Nigeria where leaders and citizens alike ask, “What can I give?” This question is not just about monetary contributions or material gifts; it is about service, sacrifice, and a commitment to the collective good. It is about leaders who prioritize the needs of their people over their personal ambitions, who see public office as a platform to make a difference rather than a means to an end. It is about citizens who understand that nation-building requires active participation, not just passive criticism or demands for entitlements.

This shift in mindset would fundamentally change the way governance operates in Nigeria. Leaders who ask, “What can I give?” would focus on delivering quality public services, creating opportunities for all, and building institutions that serve the public good. They would be guided by principles of transparency, accountability, and integrity, knowing that their legacy will be measured not by how much they amassed, but by how much they contributed to the nation’s progress.

For citizens, asking “What can I give?” would mean a greater emphasis on civic responsibility. It would encourage participation in community development, voluntary service, and a willingness to support policies that benefit the wider society, even if they come at a personal cost. This mindset would foster a sense of ownership and pride in the nation’s achievements, reducing the dependence on government handouts and fostering a more resilient, self-reliant populace.

Given the foregoing view, it is germane to urge fellow Nigerians to eschew this entrenched mindset, though it will not be easy to change as it is deep-rooted, but it is essential for Nigeria’s future. It requires a concerted effort from all sectors of society, including education, where values of service, integrity, and patriotism can be instilled from a young age. Civil society organizations, religious institutions, and the media also have a critical role to play in promoting a culture of giving and holding leaders accountable.

Ultimately, the shift from “What can I get?” to “What can I give?” is a call for a new kind of leadership and citizenship in Nigeria. It is a call for leaders who are driven by a genuine desire to serve and for citizens who understand that their actions, no matter how small, contribute to the nation’s destiny. Only by embracing this mindset can Nigeria begin to address the deep-seated challenges it faces and move toward a future where governance is truly for the people, by the people, and in the service of the common good.