Bello Matawalle, minister of state for defence, says many African countries now purchase arms and ammunition from the Defence Industries Corporation of Nigeria (DICON).

Matawalle spoke on Monday in Abuja during the 60th anniversary of DICON and launch of the maiden Africa defence industries conference.

In November, President Bola Tinubu assented to the DICON Bill, 2023.

DICON was founded in 1964 to enhance national security by reducing dependence on foreign arms.

Matawalle said despite industry challenges, DICON is committed to independence and has the capacity to produce military vehicles and artilleries.

“DICON’s journey began with a modest start, focusing on the production of small arms and ammunition,” he said.

“Over the years, DICON has expanded its capabilities, venturing into the manufacture of military vehicles, artillery, and other defence equipment.

“Despite facing challenges, DICON persevered, driven by its commitment to self-reliance and national security.

“DICON’s 60-year journey is a testament to Nigeria’s commitment to self-reliance in defence production.

“But we assure you that we have the capacity, we can produce, and as you know, many countries, many African countries now are coming to DICON for the procurement of arms and ammunition.”

Ibrahim Kana, permanent secretary in the ministry of defence, said it is now compulsory for all security agencies to procure their arms and ammunition from DICON.

Kana said in the next two years, Nigeria will no longer import certain types of ammunition.

“I can assure each and every one of us, in the next two years, Nigeria will not buy 7.62mm calibre ammunition again,” he said.

“The Public Procurement Act also supports local production, not only military-industrial companies but any goods that are produced in Nigeria.

“All procuring entities in the country have been mandated to put it as a first line before importation.

“The law now makes it mandatory for us in the ministry of defence, the national security advisers office, ministry of interior, police affairs and all other security organisations in Nigeria… if you are procuring any arms or ammunitions using government funds, you have no rights to go and procure abroad unless we did not have any money in Nigeria.”

[TheCable]

Nations, diplomacy, and sports are interwoven. Sports persons and sports teams are, in a sense, representatives of and mirrors of their countries. It is no coincidence that most great nations are also leading sporting countries  because it is a significant tool of soft power projection. Nations demonstrate their might either through ‘Fight’ or ‘play’. The latter is the province of international sporting events like the Olympics. 

Sporting competitions, particularly at the elite level, have often been likened to modern-day wars. This metaphor draws on the intense rivalry, nationalistic fervour, and strategic and physical battles that characterize sports and warfare. However, unlike actual wars, which involve devastating loss of life and destruction, sports provide a controlled environment for channelling competitive instincts and resolving conflicts through non-violent means. Little wonder the famous author Goerge Orwell posits, “serious sport has nothing to do with fair play. It is bound up with hatred, jealousy, boastfulness, disregard of all rules, and sadistic pleasure in witnessing violence: in other words, it is war minus the shooting.” Modern states are not expected to wage war against each other for the fun of it or just sheer dominance; the only arena of legitimate dominance that elicits nationalism and patriotic fervour is international sports.

Like wars, sporting events, especially international competitions like the Olympics, become arenas where national pride and identity are fiercely defended and displayed. Athletes are often seen as warriors representing their nations, carrying the hopes and aspirations of their people. The victories and defeats in these arenas are celebrated or mourned, almost like battles won or lost on a battlefield. The spectacle of countries competing against each other in these global events can evoke strong emotions, much like the nationalism that fuels wars. Preparing for high-level sports competitions mirrors the strategic planning  capabilities seen in military campaigns. Coaches and athletes meticulously study their opponents, devise game plans, and adapt their strategies as the competition unfolds. This aspect of sports is comparable to the strategy  and tactics employed in warfare, where intelligence, preparation, and adaptability often determine the outcome. The intense focus on outmanoeuvring and outthinking the opponent in sports can be seen as a simulation of the strategic elements of warfare.

The Olympics are the highest arenas of sporting glory, where sporting artistry, creativity and skills are showcased to a global audience for fame, glory, prominence and recognition. Whatever happens there mirrors the relative might and priorities of the state. It significantly reflects the economic status of a state and the opportunities it offers. Better-organized societies and prosperous nations are more likely to achieve better results; the reverse is the opposite. Prosperous countries invest heavily in the sports industry and reap the reward in the country’s performance at these major sporting events. Historically, Africa and other third-world countries have won fewer sports awards in these competitions. Although this may have improved a little recently, the improvement is not significant.

The Paris Olympics is the latest iteration of great power competition in sports. So far, the  final medals table reaffirms the familiar order of precedence among sporting nations: the US, China, Australia, France, the UK, Japan etc, are the leaders. Despite our population and talent, Nigeria is nowhere represented in the medals table. Nigeria’s lacklustre performance at the Paris 2024 Olympics has shown our level of organizational tardiness, shabby preparation and short-term solutions for long-term challenges, poor incentive system, lack of patriotism, corruption and nepotism; low government and private sector investment.

Olympics success is a function of many factors- training and preparation, athlete commitment and level of patriotism, sports administration capabilities, investment in sporting infrastructure, funding and professionalism. The poor organizational capabilities of the Nigeria Olympic Committee (NOC) led to the non-registration of Favour  Ofili for a race in which she had a bright chance. This is not the first time NOC has displayed this level of negligence. Nigeria’s performance at the Paris Olympics mirrors the extent of our preparations, investment, and commitment. It is clear that we need a significant improvement in our sports administration to avert a more consequential crisis soon afterwards.

Our athletes do  not just  have potential, they are talented and capable. However, there is a lack of sufficient incentive and motivation for them to excel in the global international sporting arena. D’Tigress, Nigeria’s female basketball team, became the first African team (male or female) to reach the Olympic quarterfinals in Basketball. Favour Ofili became the first Nigerian in 28 years to reach the 200m finals. Chukwuebuka Enekwachi, in shotput, shone brightly even without a medal. Also, 18-year-old Samuel Ogazi became the first Nigerian man to reach the 400m final since 1988.  Ese Brume, Ruth Usoro, and Prestina Ochonogor  all secured spots in the final of the long jump event.

 These achievements are a testament to the potential of our athletes and should give us hope for the future of Nigerian sports.

The Honourable Minister of Sports, Senator John Owan Enoh, demonstrated exceptional organizational skills at the Summer Olympics. However, the limited timeframe was insufficient to fully impact the final medal table. This underscores the crucial role of possessing superior organizational capabilities and engaging in long-term planning in the success of our athletes and teams. It is imperative that we allow adequate time for preparations to manifest in tangible results, and this should be a key focus of our sports administration.

However, the trend of Nigerian athletes competing for other countries raises questions about our sports administration, nationalism, and reward systems. Annette Nneka Echikunwoke, who won silver for the USA in the hammer throw, was a victim of administrative incompetence in the 2020 Olympics and hence had to switch representation to another  country.  Salwa Naser took silver for Bahrain in the women’s 400m race.  Yemisi Ogunleye won gold in the women’s shot put for Germany. Tade Ojora and Victoria Ohuruogu competed for Britain, Rhasidat Adeleke for Ireland, Daisy Osakwe for Italy and Manuel Mordi for Germany, among others. This trend is a loss for Nigeria and must end. We must be ready as a country to harness the talents of all Nigerians and appreciate them, no matter where they are in the world. This will not only strengthen our sports teams but also promote a sense of national pride and unity. 

John F. Kennedy argued that “sports are a microcosm of society. They are a medium through which we convey our values and goals.” It has the power to change the world. It has the power to inspire. It can unite people in a way that little else does. It speaks to young and old in a language they understand. It creates hope, whereas once, there was only despair. During this Olympics period, Nigerians feasted on the game, glued to their screens to cheer up their favourite athletes and inspire Nigerian athletes to sporting immortality. 

As the Olympic games were on, Nigerian youth embarked on the mother of all protest, where in the North, many lives and property were lost and damaged, and, in the South, a pervasive feeling of hopelessness was in the air. Whether there was any link between the competitive sports of the Olympics and the competition for state power by protesters is yet to be fathomed, but one thing is clear: there is a parallelism between competitive sports and competitive contest for influencing government power in a direction the protesters are clamouring for.  

The physicality of many sports, where athletes engage in direct, sometimes brutal, competition, also draws symbolism from physical combat. Sports like boxing, rugby, and American football, where physical dominance is crucial, can be seen as direct analogues to combat. Even in less physically confrontational sports, the psychological battles between competitors—where mental strength, resilience, and the will to win are paramount—resemble the psychological warfare between opposing forces in a conflict.

Sporting competitions as modern-day wars is a metaphor that captures the Olympics’ intensity, rivalry, and national significance. While most of the sorts share many characteristics with warfare—nationalism, strategy, physical and psychological battles—the critical difference lies in sports’ peaceful and constructive nature. Unlike wars, which bring destruction and suffering, sports unite people, offering a way to celebrate human achievement, resolve conflicts, and foster global unity. The contrast between the Russian-Ukraine conflicts, the Hamas brouhaha and the Paris Olympics is obvious. The Olympics are symbols of peace and prosperity. The insane, rootless fanaticism that drives a sports team is the same spirit that motivates patriotic people. Nigeria should use opportunities of future  Olympics to be counted among the respected  nations of the world. Let our future outing qualify us to  be regarded as a nation of serious minded people . 

rend is a loss for Nigeria and must end. We must be ready as a country to harness the talents of all Nigerians and appreciate them, no matter where they are in the world. This will not only strengthen our sports teams but also promote a sense of national pride and unity. 

John F. Kennedy argued that “sports are a microcosm of society. They are a medium through which we convey our values and goals.” It has the power to change the world. It has the power to inspire. It can unite people in a way that little else does. It speaks to young and old in a language they understand. It creates hope, whereas once, there was only despair. During this Olympics period, Nigerians feasted on the game, glued to their screens to cheer up their favourite athletes and inspire Nigerian athletes to sporting immortality. 

As the Olympic games were on, Nigerian youth embarked on the mother of all protest, where in the North, many lives and property were lost and damaged, and, in the South, a pervasive feeling of hopelessness was in the air. Whether there was any link between the competitive sports of the Olympics and the competition for state power by protesters is yet to be fathomed, but one thing is clear: there is a parallelism between competitive sports and competitive contest for influencing government power in a direction the protesters are clamouring for.  

The physicality of many sports, where athletes engage in direct, sometimes brutal, competition, also draws symbolism from physical combat. Sports like boxing, rugby, and American football, where physical dominance is crucial, can be seen as direct analogues to combat. Even in less physically confrontational sports, the psychological battles between competitors—where mental strength, resilience, and the will to win are paramount—resemble the psychological warfare between opposing forces in a conflict.

Sporting competitions as modern-day wars is a metaphor that captures the Olympics’ intensity, rivalry, and national significance. While most of the sorts share many characteristics with warfare—nationalism, strategy, physical and psychological battles—the critical difference lies in sports’ peaceful and constructive nature. Unlike wars, which bring destruction and suffering, sports unite people, offering a way to celebrate human achievement, resolve conflicts, and foster global unity. The contrast between the Russian-Ukraine conflicts, the Hamas brouhaha and the Paris Olympics is obvious. The Olympics are symbols of peace and prosperity. The insane, rootless fanaticism that drives a sports team is the same spirit that motivates patriotic people. Nigeria should use opportunities of future  Olympics to be counted among the respected  nations of the world. Let our future outing qualify us to  be regarded as a nation of serious minded people . 

Some 200 years ago, someone could whimsically deport someone from a part of this country to another. It happened to Madam Efunroye Tinubu in 1856. She was given 24 hours to leave Lagos for her hometown, Abeokuta. This is 2024.

You can’t have tasty mutton-mushroom sauce without all the necessary elements. Any cook worth his or her name knows the culinary fact of the juice of one sweetening the whole. What makes Lagos Lagos is the rainbow colours of its population and the allure of its complexity. That is what Governor Babajide Sanwo-Olu saved when he stepped in last week and disowned an insidious campaign by some people ordering certain people to leave Lagos.

Lagos is the Eden of the daring. It has always been. And if it is Eden, always know it won’t be short of snakes and temptations. That is why talks and threats of expulsion will always be in the air there. This particular expulsion is our local version of the far-right anti-immigrant rhetoric in the United Kingdom. The violence birthed by the extremists in that rainbow country has been wracking England and Northern Ireland since 30 July, 2024.

I know that no one keeps quiet when his farm is being turned into a footpath. Because of that, Lagos, since its beginning, has had this in-group/out-group issue. It assumed a dimension worse than bad during and after the 2023 elections. But it is an ill wind. The others-must-go campaigners forget that the alluvial richness of the Lagos dumpsite is because it takes all that come to it.

There are ethnic extremists everywhere we turn now. Because of that, I think I should also quietly shout a warning that no one should henceforth describe Lagos as a no-man’s land or behave as if there is no boundary between a father’s farm and that of his son.

The campaign and its timing I see as an enemy action. How could the city have combined the hardship protests of that week with an inter-ethnic chaos? An X (Twitter) post by someone who may themselves be an ‘alien’ triggered the panic. Governor Sanwo-Olu reacted by saying that he viewed the post as “not only reckless and divisive but an attempt to sow a seed of discord between the Yoruba in the Southwest and other tribes, especially those who have made Lagos their permanent place of abode.” It was timely water on a threatening blaze. There has been silence since.

I have read the other far-right saying Sanwo-Olu’s intervention came too little. They are wrong. Have they ever thought of checking the meaning of “many a little makes a mickle”? If such persons knew the history behind a-stich-in-time, they would appreciate the worth of half-words dropped in the nick of time. Besides here, in this clime, elders don’t say all they have to say. And, I don’t have to say it that a leader, no matter his age, is an elder.

The rhetoric of ‘Others Must Go’ (within a country) is an elite trick to mobilise for politics. Even people who are Yoruba but of non-Lagos origin are routinely reminded of their own alien status by idle minds who strut that landscape of hardtackle politics. Ironically, the ancestors of some of those who discriminate today were also classed as aliens in that city-state less than 150 years ago.

Kristin Mann in his ‘Marriage Choices among the Educated African Elite in Lagos Colony, 1880-1915’ published in 1981 says something about the composite that is called Lagos. After pouring through several records, Kristin writes: “In 1880 approximately 70 percent of the elite were Saro, but by 1915 the proportion had fallen to 60 percent. The remainder were (returnees) from Brazil, the West Indies, or North America; Yoruba from Lagos or the interior; or non-Yoruba from west or north of Yorubaland. Only four members of the educated elite belonged to families that had lived in Lagos more than three generations. The rest had migrated to the town or were the children or grandchildren of immigrants. The educated elite, then, did not belong to large, well-established Lagos lineages” (See page 205).

Expulsion of aliens is not new across countries in West Africa. But such always comes back to haunt the chasers. Margaret Peil has a list of such expulsions in her ‘Ghana Aliens’ (1974): “Ghanaian fishermen have been deported from Guinea, Ivory Coast and Nigeria; Nigerian traders have had to leave Cameroon, Ivory Coast, Ghana and Zaire; Dahomean civil servants have been deported from Ivory Coast and Niger; Togolese farmers and workmen have been expelled from Ghana and Ivory Coast. The largest case of expulsion of aliens was the result of the ‘Compliance Order’ issued in Ghana on November 18, 1969, which gave all aliens without residence permits two weeks to obtain them or leave the country.” It was the turn of Ghana to taste its own medicine when ‘Ghana Must Go’ happened in Nigeria in 1983.

Peace should be everyone’s agenda. Let farm hands stop planting cash crops; let no farm owner claim to be God. If you chase your late father’s debtors too hard, you will soon land in the hands of his creditors.

The king in pre-colonial Oyo had power over everything. He determined who lived and who died. At a point in time, there was this street drummer in Oyo metropolis who moved from one point of the town to the other plying his trade. And, he was a master of his art, great skill, vigorous activity. He would praise those he considered praiseworthy; he would deprecate the deplorable. The people enjoyed what he did as long as he did not make them the object of his pillory.
One day, the drummer got up early and woke up the town with a strange beat and a strange message:

Kòtò kan nbe n’íta oba,
Olórun ó mu
Kò ì yá ni

(Meaning: There is a pit in front of the king’s palace; God will catch him (the king) but it is not yet time).

What is he saying? Alarm bells rang in homes and across Oyo that a drummer was spreading a strange message against the king. Is it not said that a dog is allowed to run mad but its insanity notwithstanding, it is expected to know and avoid fire? B’ájá bá nsínwín sebí ó ye k’ó m’ojú iná. This particular dog had a madness that obviously knew no limits. He had added the king to his list of objects of scorn.

The message soon got to the King, the Alaafin. He sent for the drummer.
“Ngbó, what are you saying about me?” Kabiyesi asked him.
The drummer responded before Ikú Bàbá Yèyé with his drumbeat:

Kòtò kan nbe n’íta oba,
Olórun ó mu
Kò ì yá ni.

You would not be a Yoruba in those days if you did not understand the language of drums.
Everyone heard him loud and clear and gasped. This one should die! Ar’óbafín l’oba á pa. Palace guards moved to assault him; the king stopped them. Kabiyesi took a long look at the drummer, took a deep breath and told the man to go home. He even gave him money for his trouble. The drummer was equally stunned by the king’s verdict. He left.
The king looked round his chiefs, then turned to his people. “We must not touch him. Oba kìí mú akorin (The king does not arrest the bard).” He said and added, in very low tones that apart from the fact of a bard having immunity, touching him because of that particular message would set the town ablaze.
What is Kabiyesi saying? He and a few of his trusted aides understood clearly what the drummer was saying. There was truly a deep pit in front of the king’s palace. In that pit were the king’s deepest secrets. It was into that pit he threw the unfortunate heads of his enemies.

So, what happened thereafter? A contrite Aláàfin ordered the pit closed. He also stopped the serial murders he was committing.

Where did the above story come from? I got it from the late Aláàfin of Oyo, Oba Lamidi Olayiwola Adeyemi III. It was in his palace he told me a few months before he joined his ancestors in 2022. I was not there alone; my friend, Festus Adedayo, was also there.

With the oba, we had many deep discussions on the notions of rights and privileges in the context of Yoruba identity and cultural nuances. This was one of them. The Aláàfin stressed that the story was real. Kabiyesi said he also heard it from his fathers. He pointed at the probable site of the pit. We agreed that the drummer of that era would be today’s press.

I am writing on the spirit of protest and resistance – my focus is the Yoruba. My dictionary says the opposite of acquiescence is resistance. Anywhere you find the Yoruba and there is injustice or simple insult, do not think of acquiescence; think of the opposite. They value their girl’s idí bèbèrè but they don’t deck the voluptuous waist of a bad daughter with beads of stupid accommodation. They also do not make their hips available for dislocation by bumbling relations. To them, pimples find seats only on foolish faces. It makes very little difference whether the actors are men or they are women.

What we heard about the ancient time is what we read of more recent eras. Professor Ulli Beier lived in Yorubaland and patiently studied the Yoruba of the 1950s and the 1960s. He was in Ede, Osogbo, Ilobu, Okuku, Ibadan, etc. Ulli Beier witnessed resistant women bringing grasping men to their knees in Ede in 1955. He recollects this in his piece, ‘The Position of Yoruba Women’. Ulli Beier writes: “The women who sell ògì, a food prepared from ground maize, must bring their maize to the mill owners for grinding. These mill owners are men. Now the women began to complain that the charge of the men was too high to allow them sufficient profit on the sale of ògì. The Iyalode then made representations to the mill owners, demanding a lower price for the grinding. The men refused at first, then tried to bargain. The Iyalode, however, called out all ògì sellers on strike. The women then began to grind the corn by hand and after a week, the mill owners surrendered unconditionally” (Beier, 1955:40).

Women in any Yoruba society would do exactly what those who have long departed did in Ede in 1955.

Ilorin Dadakuada musician, Odolaye Aremu, in his album, Olówe Mòwe, characterised the immediate past Iyalode of Ibadan, Alhaja Aminatu Abiodun, as a man: “Wón pè é l’óbìnrin ní/ohun t’ólókó nse ló nse (They call her a woman but she does what those who have penises do).” Long before Abiodun, there was Madam Efunroye Tinubu whose activism straddled business and politics in Lagos, Badagry and Abeokuta. In Lagos of the early mid-1880s, she was with Oba Adele I whom she married and lived with. Then Adele died, there was a problem in Lagos, she went on exile to Badagry. From exile in Badagry, she led the push that ousted Oba Kosoko and re-installed Adele’s younger brother, Akintoye, and reigned with him. She shared the throne with Oba Dosumu, Akintoye’s first son, and with it ruled the business world of Lagos.

While doing all these, Madam Tinubu ensured that her activism broth had a large dose of nationalist condiments. Oladipo Yemitan wrote Efunroye’s biography and gave it the title: ‘Madam Tinubu: Merchant and Kingmaker’. In that book, the biographer notes that though Tinubu was overbearing in her dealings with Dosumu, one of the obas she dealt with in Lagos, “her pre-emptory orders had a nationalistic undertone: She did not want the oba to be dominated by foreigners” (Yemitan, 1987:38). Madam Tinubu organised resistant actions against Europeans in Lagos seeking their expulsion from the land. On one occasion, a major uprising against foreign ‘rule’ ensued under her instigation. “Several meetings were held in her house by the dissidents. So efficient was her organizing machinery that this uprising nearly succeeded…”, Yemitan wrote. At a point, the white man felt her cup was full. She was deported back to her hometown, Abeokuta.

The zenith of Madam Tinubu’s activism was her becoming the Iyalode of Egba, the number one woman in Abeokuta. In Abeokuta, she remained a major force in politics and business. Marjorie Mclntosh in her ‘Yoruba Women, Work and Social Change’ (2009: 137) wrote that when the Dahomeys attacked Abeokuta in 1864, Efunroye Tinubu “was a key figure in organizing the defence of Egbaland and securing the enemies’ defeat.” Her biographer, Yemitan (page 47) wrote: “The women’s war-cry – ‘Elele-múlele’ – meaning: let everyone reach for his machete – was a slogan coined by Madam Tinubu on that occasion. She moved from quarter to quarter in Abeokuta rousing up women for concerted action.”

On that incident, Saburi Biobaku, in his ‘Egba and Their Neighbours’ (1957: 38) wrote about Tinubu: “Her compound was converted into a veritable arsenal from which arms and ammunition were issued to the Egba forces on their way to the front: Then she took up a position at Aro gate, nearer the front, at which the wounded were nursed by her and her female associates, where soldiers whose powder had exhausted in battle replenished their store and from which any would-be deserters were sent back with a renewed determination to fight the Dahomey and save the Egba metropolis from destruction.”

At about the time Madam Tinubu reigned in Lagos, in Badagry and, later, in Abeokuta, another Egba woman activist was in charge in Ibadan putting the men there in their proper place. She was Madam Efunsetan Aniwura (c. 1790-1874). Like Tinubu, Madam Aniwura was the Iyalode of Ibadan. Historians credit her with uncommon entrepreneurial ability, enormous wealth and man-like bravery. Efunsetan’s activism saw her challenging the power structure of Ibadan which was effectively in the firm grips of her male counterparts. She was assertive and daring, and would be called, in today’s parlance, a feminist who queried lords and troops and the incessant disruptive wars they fought, hurtful to women and their trade, injurious to children and their growth.

Akinwumi Ishola, who wrote ‘Efunsetan Aniwura: Iyalode Ibadan’ (1981), a very negative play on this woman, would later describe her as a positive force in the evolution of Ibadan as a metropolis. In an interview in The Punch of 16 November, 2013, Akinwumi Isola said: “I was very young with little education when I wrote the book. If I were to write it today, it would be different. Efunsetan can be described as a woman fighting for the rights of womenfolk. She could be described as a woman rights activist. She is not as tough as I portrayed her.”

In ‘Iyalode Efunsetan Aniwura (Owner of Gold)’, Bolanle Awe describes Efunsetan as a very ‘independent-minded’ and outspoken woman who was not afraid to criticise Aare Latoosa and his other chiefs. Very importantly, Awe says she was a woman who was strong enough to openly oppose Ibadan war chiefs’ constant wars. “She realized that the condition of almost continuous warfare disrupted her own and other people’s trading. She therefore became the spokesperson for a group of chiefs who were opposed to the aggressive policy of the leading war captain. For the expedition launched in 1874, she refused to field any soldiers, give ammunition on credit, or demonstrate her solidarity by meeting with the chiefs at the town gate” (McIntosh, 2009: 139).

If we want more on contemporary activism of the Yoruba woman, I think we should read about the Nigerian General Strike of 1945. We should read how Yoruba market women took the lead in giving moral and logistic support to the striking workers: “The workers found support among the women community especially market women headed by Madam Alimotu Pelewura… The women traders deliberately lowered their prices to enable workers purchase available foodstuffs apart from contributing generously to the workers Relief Fund. Madam Adunni Oluwole in particular donated 100 pounds to assist the workers”. That quote is from Wale Oyemakinde’s ‘The Nigerian General Strike of 1945’, published in 1975. Check page 704.

Rebellion or resistance; strifes and wars are usually preceded by songs (of abuse). Among the Yoruba, songs or even drama can be channels of resistance – and of change. Akinwumi Isola in his ‘The African Writer’s Tongue’ (1992) tells a story: “An aggrieved king tried in vain to punish an oral artist who had caricatured his lawless messengers. The masquerade was Agborako at Oyo, and the king was Alaafin Ladigbolu (1911-1944). When the king’s messengers, usually identified by the single tuft of hair in the center of their heads, became intolerably cruel in the execution of their duties, Agborako (the masquerade) organized a performance that criticized the king’s lack of control over his messengers. Members of Agborako imitated the customary hair style of the king’s messengers and dramatized examples of their lawless behavior. The king was furious! He immediately ordered the arrest of Agborako! But the arrest stirred up considerable anger among the people, who participated in a huge demonstration demanding the immediate release of the masquerade singers. At this point, the king was reminded of the rule: ‘Oba ki i p’okorin’ (The king never kills an artiste). Agborako was released.”

The story of Hubert Ogunde is well known to members of my generation. The generation before ours experienced his trail-blazing exploits in the decade before independence. In 1945, Ogunde came out smoking with an opera titled ‘Strike and Hunger.’ Oliver Coates (2017) wrote a descriptive piece on that play. He says the play “provides a unique opportunity to examine the ways in which late colonial politics were reimagined in drama.” The play was inspired by the 1945 General Strike in Lagos and “offers an allegorical dramatization of the events”. Recalcitrant Ogunde and his theatre company had considerable problems with the government over that product. The company was banned in Jos in 1946 and fined 125 pounds for staging ‘Strike and Hunger’. The Ogunde Theatre was again banned in Kano in May 1950 for staging another of his plays, ‘Bread and Bullet’. In addition to the ban, he was arrested and charged with sedition. He was discharged of that count but fined six pounds “for posting posters of the play without permission.” Ebun Clark’s ‘Hurbert Ogunde: The Making of Nigerian Theatre’ (1979) which contains accounts of those incidents also has other details of the activities of this activist artiste. Tunde Kelani’s ‘Saworoide’ (1999) and its sequel, ‘Agogo Eewo’ (2002), continue the Ogunde tradition of using drama as a vehicle for social commentary and activism.

I started this piece with the story of an oba and an activist drummer. I have also quoted Professor Akinwumi Isola’s recollection of a communal resistance to an oba who ordered the arrest of a masquerade. Both incidents tell us that the oba is in reality not above the law – although he is greeted Kabiyesi, a salutation which mocks the invincibility of the unwary.

An oba’s behaviour must not endanger the community. If it does, he will pay. In a proverb, the Yoruba found an oba involved in money ritual. His exasperated people rose against him and asked why! Is there any other position bigger than the throne in a kingdom? They queried and chastised the oba: “Do you want to become God?” Won fi o j’oba, o tun nw’awure, se o fe d’Olodumare ni? Deeper into history, no oba who misbehaved escaped justice at the hands of their subjects. Samuel Johnson, author of ‘The History of the Yorubas’ (1921), has a long list of such obas. He calls them the wicked kings. He also remembers to tell what became of them:

Alaafin Ojigi reigned a long time ago. Some accounts say he was the eighth Alaafin of Oyo. He was a good, effective king but he lost his throne and his everything to the excesses of his crown prince. This is how Johnson (1921: 206-207) tells the story: “Ojigi, who was elected to the vacant throne, was a powerful and warlike king…Personally, he was a very good man, but a too indulgent father. The Aremo (crown prince) by his cruelties and excesses brought about the father’s rejection and death. He ordered Oluke, the Basorun’s son, to be unlawfully beaten. As this wrong could not be avenged without serious consequences, and as the king did not punish the wrong doer, it was thought more expeditious to effect the king’s death, for about this time the custom began to prevail for the Aremos to die with the father, as they enjoy unrestrained liberty with the father. A pretext was soon found for rejecting the king and fond father, and consequently he died, and his eldest son with him.” That Alaafin did well running the empire but did not do well running his home.

That king’s immediate predecessor, Osinyago, suffered a similar fate. He had an Aremo who died young because, according to Johnson, “he was of a grasping propensity…like his father, an avaricious man who by exactions, massacre and confiscations amassed wealth which he did not live long to enjoy.” This king lost all when his second child, a lady “of masculine character” out of envy and “wounded pride”, slew the son of a commoner. The king had to die, his family with him (Johnson, 1921: 205).

One more example from the same Oyo. It is said that one of the early kings, Oba Jayin, killed himself before he was publicly disgraced by an Egungun for murdering his own son whose sin was that he was a better person in character. And, so, the people sang: “O ku dede k’a ko’wi w’Akesan, Oba Jayin te’ri gb’aso.” (Johnson, 1921 [2017]: 202-203).

There is also Yoruba praise names or praise chants, oriki. Karin Barber, an authority says an individual’s oríki is the standard unit that “refers to qualities of character or physical appearance” of someone. She says sometimes the oriki refers “to incidents in the subject’s life – often apparently trivial or even scandalous.” In Adeboye Babalola’s ‘Awon Oriki Orile Metadinlogbon’ I find these verses in ‘Oriki Iran Olofa’:

“Won l’Omo òtòsi Ộfa, wáá lo sódò lo rèé ponmi wa,
K’ómo olówó o ri mu…

Omo òtosi Ộfa

Ò lóun ò ní i lọ sódò lo rèé pọnmi wa, k’ómo olówó ó ri mu.

A fọn ộn kò dún.

A tè é ko ya’nu.

Ộrò d’ilé Abiódún Oba Aláafin…”
(They told the child of the poor to go to the stream and fetch water for the child of the rich to drink. The child of the poor said no, he would not go to the stream to fetch water for the child of the rich to drink. There was trouble. The matter was taken to the palace of Abiodun, Alaafin of Oyo. Alaafin asked the child of the poor to go and enjoy his life in peace).

The above explains the Yoruba ideal of equality and justice: “Ibi ko ju’bi; bi a ti bi eru ni a bi omo (birth pangs are the same; a slave has the same privilege of birth as the freeborn).”

I was the lead paper presenter at a major conference on ‘Yoruba Activisms’ which was held at the Lead City University, Ibadan, between Monday and Wednesday last week. There were 247 presentations; participants were drawn from across this ccountry and from countries abroad. What you have read so far here is a reworked excerpt from the paper I presented at that conference. The drummer story was my opening glee.

Parrot is bird of the sea; cardinal is bird of the Lagoon. I wrote the above and have read it all over again. My conclusion is that if you have a Yoruba as your president, do not seek to overwhelm him without good planning. He will fight back and will not take prisoners. Also, if a president has the Yoruba as his subjects, he should not take them for granted. If he is a leader who shoots his arrow towards the sky and covers his own head with a mortar, the Yoruba will gasp at his wickedness; the resistance in their gene will come to the fore. They will light their torch of fire and beam it into the face of that masquerade. And if he is of their house, it won’t gel to suggest bastardy as reason for their telling ‘their brother’ that his regime is painful. If they can’t hit the streets in open confrontation, they will migrate away from the unfeeling without the drama of a noisy rejection.

Àbò mi rèé o. I have said my own.

Chelsea FC currently holds the largest squad in the English Premier League, boasting a total of 55 players.

Chelsea signed Wolves forward Neto for £54m on Sunday, taking them to 11 summer signings with an average age of under 21.

Since June 14, the club has spent £185 million, bringing their squad to over 50 senior players. While the London club is actively trying to offload some players, the approaching transfer window deadline leaves the team’s future composition uncertain.

Here’s a full list of all 55 players in Chelsea’s squad:

Goalkeepers (8) 

Filip Jorgensen, 22, signed for £21m; Robert Sanchez, 26, £25m; Djordje Petrovic, 24, £14m (available on loan); Kepa Arrizabalaga, 29, £72m* (for sale); Marcus Bettinelli, 32, free*; Mike Penders, 19, £17m (on loan) not yet confirmed; Gabriel Slonina, 20, £9m (available on loan); Lucas Bergstrom, 21, undisclosed* (for sale/loan).

Full-backs (7)

Reece James, right, 24, academy; Marc Cucurella, left, 26, £62m; Ben Chilwell, left, 27, £45m*; Renato Veiga, left, 12, £12m; Malo Gusto, 21, right, £30m; Josh Acheampong, right, 18, academy; Caleb Wiley, left, 19, £9m (on loan).

Centre-backs (9)

Axel Disasi, 26, £39m; Wesley Fofana, 23, £75m; Levi Colwill, 21, academy; Tosin Adarabioyo, 26, free; Benoit Badiashile, 23, £33m; Trevoh Chalobah, 25, academy (for sale); Aaron Anselmino, 19, £16 (on loan); Alfie Gilchrist, 20, academy (on loan); Bashir Humphreys, 21, academy (for sale/loan).

Midfielders (15)

Enzo Fernandez, 23, £107m; Moises Caicedo, 22, £115m; Christopher Nkunku, 26, £52m; Omari Kellyman, 19, £19m; Cesare Casadei, 21, £17m; Lesley Ugochukwu, 20, £23m; Kiernan Dewsbury-Hall, 25, £30m; Romeo Lavia, 20, £53m; Carney Chukwuemeka, 20, £20m; Tino Anjorin, 22, academy (available for sale/loan); Andrey Santos, 20, £18m (on loan); Kendry Paez, 17, £17m (on loan); Alex Matos, 19, free; Jimi Tauriainen, 20, undisclosed* (available on loan); Leo Castledine, 18, academy (available on loan).

Wingers (9)

Mykhailo Mudryk, left, 23, £89m; Raheem Sterling, left, 29, £48m; Pedro Neto, left, 24, £54m; Cole Palmer, right, 22, £43m; Noni Madueke, right, 22, £29m; Estaevo Willian, right, 17, £51m (on loan); Angelo Gabriel, right, 19, £13m (available on loan); Harvey Vale, 20, academy (for sale/loan); Diego Moreira, 20, free.

Strikers (7)

Romelu Lukaku, 31, £100m*; Nicolas Jackson, 23, £32m; David Datro Fofana, 21, £11m (for sale); Deivid Washington, 19, £17m; Marc Guiu, 18, £5m; Mason Burstow, 21, £1.5m* (for sale/loan); Armando Broja, 22, academy (for sale).

Total, including loanees: 55

[TheNation]

TWO occurrences in the past week made me reach the conclusion that either the government is baiting the labour unions or there are quite active fifth columnists in the Tinubu administration.

The first is the laughable ban of the trade unions from politics, including working within the Labour Party, LP, which was established in 2002, that is 21 years before the Tinubu administration came to power. The second is the rather baffling August 7, 2024 invasion of the Nigeria Labour Congress, NLC, headquarters by armed security men who came like thieves in the night. The invaders, like bandits, broke down doors and carted away property. In a rather curious way, they made a bookshop on the premises one of their primary targets. Not even under the military were bookshops and books targets. Yes, the military was anti-intellectual and accused university lecturers of teaching what they were not paid to teach. But those fascists from the barracks did not take books as hostages.

When the NLC made public the invasion, there was silence from government. At a point, some started wondering whether the invaders were ghosts or Martians. It sounded so incredible that someone mused that the NLC, smarting from some attacks that it stayed out of the ‘EndBadGovernance’ protests, might have stage-managed the invasion.

Finally, the office of the Inspector General of Police owned up. Its rationalisation for the attack did not give much credit to any intelligence by the Nigeria Police Force, NPF. The NLC office is an imposing 12-storey building with the inscription: Labour House, which is visible many streets away. It is also a well-known building which the NPF has raided many times over the years, especially with Lawrence Alobi as then FCT Police Commissioner. So how can the police be selling the kindergarten tale that when it invaded the premises, it was not aware that they were the NLC offices. Police Spokesperson, Olumuyiwa Adejobi, in spinning this yarn, claimed that the premises raided “…turned out to be the NLC building.” He further claimed that the raid “was solely aimed at apprehending the prime suspect-a foreign national implicated in numerous criminal activities across Nigeria and other African countries.”

If this were so, why didn’t the police visit during work hours when the bookshop was open, and arrest the so-called suspect? Why wait until the night when he must have gone home before raiding the premises?

The police emphasized that its raid was not aimed at “the NLC, its Secretariat, staff or leadership”. If this were so, why did it raid the main NLC office on the 10th Floor where the offices of the Congress President, General Secretary and most principal officers are located, when the bookshop is on the second floor?

There is the more serious issue of the Minister of State for Labour and Employment, Nkiruka Onyejeocha, on behalf of the government, attempting to ban labour from politics. Minister Onyejeocha purports to rely on Section 15 (1) (2) (3) of the Trade Unions Act Cap T14 & T15 Laws of the Federation of Nigeria 2004 which bans trade unions from using union dues for political purposes.

She told the NLC and the TUC that the political objectives of this section include barring them directly or indirectly from incurring any cost or making any payment in holding political meetings, distributing literature or documents supporting any candidate or prospective candidate for election to any political office in Nigeria or any part of Nigeria.

This is all a joke because even President Bola Ahmed Tinubu and his campaign team in the 2023 presidential election, held meetings with both labour centres in which the trade unions and labour leaders incurred costs, including transporting themselves to such meetings. For instance, President Tinubu as the APC presidential candidate on December 19, 2022 at the Chida Hotel, Abuja, personally held a political meeting with leaders of the TUC and NLC.

He was accompanied to that meeting by his running mate, now Vice President Kashim Shettima; then Speaker of the House of Representatives, Femi Gbajabiamila, now the Chief of Staff; then Governor Atiku Bagudu of Kebbi State, now Minister of Budget and Economic Planning; then Governor Simon Lalong of Plateau State who became Labour Minister, and is today a Senator; then Governor Abubakar Badaru of Jigawa State, now Minister of Defence and Governor Abdulrahman Abdulrasaq of Kwara State.

At that meeting, President Tinubu promised that if elected, he would check mass unemployment, poverty, challenges in the education sector, the weak industrial base of the economy and evolve a credit system that would enable workers own their own houses.

Speaking directly to the NLC, TUC and their affiliate unions, Tinubu acknowledged their political rights and contributions to politics: “You have also been involved in the struggle for democracy and political rights. Your collective efforts breathe life into the democratic rights and economic ideals enshrined in our Constitution.”

The constitution he was referring to is the Nigerian Constitution which states in Section 40: “Every person shall be entitled to assemble freely and associate with other persons, and in particular he may form or belong to any political party, trade union or any other association for the protection of his interests.””

Minister Onyejeocha ought to know that the country’s Constitution she swore to uphold is superior to the labour law she is labouring to quote. She and those she represents must know that the Constitution of the Federal Republic of Nigeria supersedes, over rides and cancels any other law in the country that is inconsistent with it, and, that other law, to that extent, is null, void and of no effect.

In colonial times, the colonialists could not stop the trade unions from politics. In fact, the first national political party, the National Council of Nigeria and Cameroons, NCNC, was founded in 1944 primarily by the Trade Union Congress of Nigeria, TUCN; the Nigeria Union of Students, NUS; and the small Democratic Party led by Herbert Macaulay.

In the First Republic, labour leaders participated actively not just in partisan politics, but also elections. Some of them like Haroun Poopola Adebola and Samuel Udoh Bassey were elected into the Federal Parliament. In the Second Republic, labour leaders ran elections and some of them like Ayoola Adeleke and Joseph Ansa were elected Senators. In fact, the first Labour Party was founded in 1950 by labour leaders led by Michael Imoudu. The second one was established in 1989, while the present is the third one. If the military could not ban trade unions from politics, what gives Minister Onyejeocha the impression that she can convert the Labour Ministry into a court and magisterially ban the NLC, TUC and their affiliates from politics?

What we are witnessing are poorly scripted Nollywood sketches.

“Rights are only worth having if they are occasionally boisterous, often inconvenient and frequently tiresome.” Inigo Bing, The Ten Legal Cases That Made Modern Britain, 169 (2022)

To initiate the mating, the Chief Judge relocated to the office of the Minister with the judges of the court where they proudly put their assets on display for the edification of the Minister. At the meeting, he reminded the Minister that “as a judiciary we are part of the government and we expect that we should be able to do things that should make government work….”

The Chief Judge was desperate to let the Minister know how ready he was to consummate this relationship. To ensure that he got fullest Ministerial attentions, the Chief Judge made it known that he had instructed the Administrative Judges in charge of the various judicial divisions of the FCT High Court that all cases involving the Federal Capital Territory “would only be assigned by the Chief Judge.”

The following quarter, when the FCT High Court went into the market for judicial appointments, they allocated one out of the twelve new vacancies on offer to the FCT Minister, to which he promptly deputed his sister-in-law. As the new judges got inaugurated in July 2024, the Minister quickly announced that the judges in the FCT the proud beneficiaries of new housing development. The relationship between the Chief Judge and the Minister had moved from intent to intercourse.

Things were going so well between the two institutional lovers that it was clear neither of them would knowingly allow any interloper to get in the way of their romance. When the #EndBadGovernanceInNigeria organisers threatened to intrude into this by making Abuja and the FCT a major theatre of their protest, it was time for the lovers to prove their commitment to one another.

On 31 July, the day before the scheduled commencement of the protest, most people turned in early in anticipation of the disruptions from what promised to be the mother of all protests. Even judicial business was not left out of the sense of apprehension.

It was in this uncertainty that the Minister of the FCT decided to prove to the world the depth of the intimacy between him and the Chief Judge of the FCT. On 31 July, he initiated proceedings without notice to the defendants (ex parte) asking the court of the Chief Judge to kettle within the confines of the Moshood Abiola Stadium any wannabe protesters who showed up in the FCT.

This was a poorly rationalised decision, suggesting an executive loss of nerve for many reasons.

First, the Moshood Abiola Stadium is at the neck of a funnel into the city from both southern Nigeria and from the international airport. It was not difficult to see that any significant demonstration would constitute an obstruction to in-coming traffic, if not a risk to travelers. One conclusion from the proposal contained in the filing by the FCT Minister was that the FCT administration had decided to pass the most substantial burden of any risks from the protest to travelers into and out of the FCT, effectively making them expendable.

Second, in addition to making certain segments expendable, the FCT Administration simultaneously also chose to indicate in this proposal that they were not amenable to according any bandwidth to the protesters’ discontent. Banishing them to the vicinity of the Moshood Abiola Stadium was designed precisely to signal this.

Third, the kind of order that the Minister sought from the FCT High Court was a profound safety risk to both potential protesters and law enforcement officers, whom it required to enforce the cordon. This kind of policing arrangement had been considered and found unlawful in places with more capable policing, including in England.

Fourth, this was shameless evidence of an irresponsible FCT Administration. A more responsible administration could easily have designated the stadium as a viewing centre for the Olympic Games and invited the excluded youth of the FCT to a different experience of what’s possible when government cares.

Even more curious than the nature of the orders that the Minister sought was the identity of the parties against whom he sought them. Omoyele Sowore, the lead defendant, was in New Jersey in the USA. Another leading defendant was called “Persons Unknown.”

Now, a basic rule of civil proceedings is that cases can only be instituted against natural or legal persons. “Persons Unknown”, like spirits or ghosts, does not have capacity to sue or be sued. This does not ordinarily require any particular depth of legal skill or insight to figure out except, of course, before an FCT High Court caught in the throes of deep judicial passion with the FCT Minister.

In this particular case of the suit against “Persons Unknown”, the FCT Minister retained the services of two Senior Advocates of Nigeria, SANs. Fittingly for a regime whose agents had expended their bigoted propaganda to demonise the Igbo nation over the protest, it seemed appropriate that the judge whom the Chief Judge of the FCT High Court found to assign the case to was known as Chinedu Oriji. From its Igbo language origins, the name roughly translates into “God guides the eating of the yam.”

With little ado, this yam-eating court quickly granted all the orders sought, including “an order restraining the 1^st-5^th defendants from gathering or parading themselves along any roadway, street, offices and or public premises/property within the FCT between 1^st-10^th August 2024 or any other day thereafter pending the hearing and determination of” this case. Instead, the Court required all intending protesters from anywhere within the 7,315 km² of the FCT to converge at the Stadium at the entrance into the city where they would be confined by an armed security cordon thrown at the instigation of the FCT Minister and backed by the order from the  judge called Oriji.

Even before the Court rose for the day, the order was already in the public domain blaring from all government media. It read uncannily as if the order had been granted even before the case was filed. When the Chief Judge of the FCT High Court promised to “do things that should make government work”, he meant just that.

In this case, however, it was doubtful whether the court was in fact making the government work or exposing it instead to irredeemable odium. A proposition more suited to the mass slaughter of protesters would have been hard to invent. If the protesters had not defied the order in the full majesty of its impracticality, it would have been easy for the government to claim that any number of them trampled to death thereby were unknown. The perpetrators would have been unknown too. That would have been fitting for a protest whose leaders the government had judicially designated as “Persons Unknown.”

All that would have been both foreseeable and yet judicially authored. A court alive to its duties would have spotted this and saved itself and its executive suitors the embarrassment of issuing such an order. The only thing that mattered in this case, however, was how the FCT High Court could prove to the FCT Minister its rampant capacity for heedless intercourse with the executive. In this case, it was spared by the resilience of citizens. Providence, surely, will not always this gladly suffer the excesses of judicial prostitution. The morale of this tale is simple –  there must be more dignified ways to eat the judicial yam.

A lawyer and a teacher, Odinkalu can be reached at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.

President Bola Tinubu has sworn in Esther Walson-Jack as head of the service (HoS) of the federation.

She was sworn in before the commencement of the Federal Executive Council (FEC) meeting on Monday.

In a statement on July 17, Ajuri Ngelale, the presidential spokesperson, said her appointment will take effect on August 14.

Ngelale said Folasade Yemi-Esan, the outgoing HoS, will retire from the civil service on August 13.

“Walson-Jack was appointed as Federal Permanent Secretary in 2017 and has served in several ministries,” the statement reads.

“The new appointee will take over from the incumbent Head of the Civil Service of the Federation, Dr. Folasade Yemi-Esan, CFR, who is due to retire on August 13, 2024.

“President Tinubu, while thanking the outgoing Head of Service for her stewardship, tasks the incoming Head of Service to discharge her duties with innovative flair, integrity, and stringent adherence to the extant rules and regulations of the Civil Service of the Federation.”

Walson-Jack holds a Bachelor of Law degree from the University of Lagos and was called to the bar in 1987.

Before joining the federal civil service, she was the solicitor-general of Bayelsa and also served as the permanent secretary of the state ministry of justice.

[TheCable]

“There in front of the Tabernacle, Solomon went up to the bronze altar in the LORD’s presence and sacrificed a thousand burnt offerings on it. That night God appeared to Solomon in a dream and said, ‘What do you want? Ask, and I will give it to you!” 2 Chronicles 1:6-7

Sacrifice! You cannot effectively serve or relate to God without living a life of sacrifice. Sacrifice is defined as the offering of something precious to a god, the giving up of something of great value to oneself for a special purpose or to benefit somebody else, and also personally, deliberately, denying yourself pleasures, comfort, rights and privileges to achieve a purpose or a goal. If we would start from the first, it’s an established fact that humans cannot have any fellowship with spirits or the spirit world without sacrifices. And these come in form of altars, worship, dedication, devotion, offerings, etc. Whether it is the worship of God the creator of the universe or the worship of Satan and his host of demons, it is the same. You must be ready and willing to live a life of sacrifice to maintain the relationship. Sacrifice gives you access to the spirit world. It gives you access to the supernatural. It gives you spiritual privileges. Sorry, here, we will not be able to discuss this practice in the satanic kingdom. We’ve already done that adequately in my books Power of Midnight Prayer and Breaking Generational Curses: Claiming Your Freedom by Gabriel Agbo.

Now, from the beginning, God related to man through sacrifices. After giving man the freedom to eat every fruit in the Garden of Eden, he went ahead to warn him not to touch or eat the fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Yes, the fruit looked good and delicious but God told him, “Don’t touch it!” That was expected to be a mark of consecration, self-denial, sacrifice, but man fail woefully here. Look at Cain and Abel, it was the sacrifice they both performed to God that brought their problem. Abel’s sacrifice was accepted while Cain’s was rejected. Now, fast forward to Abraham, when God decided to make a covenant with Abraham, affirming his promises of protection, generational blessings and a son to him, he initiated a very powerful sacrifice to seal the promises. I see your own promises will be sealed today in Jesus’ name! Listen, “Then the LORD told him, ‘Bring me a three-year-old heifer, a three-year-old female goat, a three-year-old ram, a turtledove, and a young pigeon. Abram took all these and killed them. He cut each one down the middle and laid the halves side by side. He did not however divide the birds in half. Some vultures came down to eat the carcasses, but Abram chased them away. That evening, as the sun was going down, Abram fell into deep sleep. He saw a terrifying vision of darkness and horror. Then the LORD told Abram… ” Genesis15:9-17

After the sacrifice the Almighty came down in a very powerful way and made a generational covenant with Abraham. Abraham saw a mysterious smoking fire pot and a flaming torch pass between the halves of those mutilated animals. God was receiving the offering and was speaking out very power promises to Abraham, to his children and many generations to come. In fact, He was also telling him what will happen in the next four hundred years! My God! Sacrifices are very powerful. They move the hand of the supernatural. They access the inaccessible and break the unbreakable. What are you sacrificing to your God? I see God starting something new with you today. Get my book / audiobook Power of sacrifice by Gabriel Agbo immediately. You can find it in all major world languages. This message is changing your life forever! We will continue next week. God bless!

 Rev Gabriel Agbo is the author of the books / audiobooks: Power of Midnight Prayer, Receive Your Healing, Breaking Generational Curses: Claiming Your Freedom, Never Again!, I Shall Not Die, Move Forward, Power of Sacrifice and many others. Tel: 08037113283

One of the first major policies of President Bola Ahmed Tinubu's regime was the floating of the Naira to unify foreign exchange rates and save Nigeria the billions of dollars previously used to defend the Significant arbitrage between the official exchange rates and the rates in the parallel market, previously existed which many individuals and businesses exploited. Although the policy was implemented with good intentions, it has resulted in the devaluation of the Naira by over 200% and consequences for the Nigerian business environment.

Since equipment, spare parts, raw materials, and other inputs for production are often imported, the devaluation of the Naira has increased the costs of operation for manufacturing companies. These companies are careful not to immediately transfer all these increased costs to consumers to avoid losing patronage. Consequently, they have had to deal with reduced profit margins, and some unethical ones may reduce quality, while others seek ways to cut costs; reducing staff strength is often one of the first measures taken.

Non-manufacturing companies were also impacted, as energy costs soared significantly—at one point, the price of diesel rose to over 1,500 Naira per litre before the Dangote refinery commenced production. Many companies that could not cope with the increased cost of doing business have shut down, while the high capital required to start most businesses has equally become a barrier to entry.

The devaluation of the Naira has led to foreign exchange losses for many companies, with some reporting losses in billions of Naira. Small and medium-scale enterprises also suffered losses. Typically, when businesses whose functional currency is the Naira take on credit facilities in foreign currency (loans or goods, services, machinery, spare parts on credit, etc) they face foreign exchange risks, leading to losses whenever the Naira is devalued. The value of foreign exchange obligations in naira terms increases. The losses could be avoided or reduced with appropriate hedging practices. These credit facilities are often attractive due to favourable terms compared to what is obtainable within Nigeria.

When the Naira was floated, its value remained highly volatile for a while making it difficult for businesses to plan appropriately. During this period of instability, many businesses avoided making major investment decisions, awaiting a stable economic environment to avert losses. This resulted in a decrease in foreign direct investment during that period. Worrisome is that in recent weeks, the Naira has once again shown signs of instability, which the government is addressing.

The devaluation of the Naira made Nigerian exports more attractive and competitive, to the advantage of export-oriented businesses. Some argue that this has contributed to food inflation in Nigeria, as people from neighbouring countries increased their demand for foodstuffs from Nigerian farmers, finding them a cheaper option due to the Naira’s devaluation. This reduced food availability in Nigeria which was already grappling with inadequate supply, leading to demand-pull inflation. Government efforts to improve food production in the country are ongoing. It is important to note that the increased cost of food production and transportation also contributed to food inflation.

On the other hand, the devaluation of the Naira has led to lower purchasing power of individuals and a reduction in household consumption. Businesses have seen demand for their goods and services dip, leading to the closure of some of them. To cope, some had to review their prices, reducing their margins to stimulate demand. Many businesses have been unable to cope with the combined effect of increased costs of doing business and decreased sales. Implementation of the new national minimum wage is expected to increase household consumption.

While acknowledging that the floating of the Naira has enormous benefits for the Nigerian economy, including improved transparency in the Nigerian forex market and saving the country billions of dollars previously used to defend the Naira, it may be wise for the government to provide some form of intervention to the manufacturing industry which is a major driver of the economy. This could be in the form of reduced taxes or long-term low-interest loans. The government could also consider using part of the revenue expected from the proposed one-time windfall tax on foreign exchange gains of banks to support Nigerian industries. Furthermore, the government should put all measures in place to ensure the stability of the value Naira to promote investor confidence and prevent businesses from incurring huge forex losses in the future.