4 May 2022 © Numero Unoma
Who you epp? Is that not what you, me and Olamide are always saying in this our country? I am often asked the meanings of Nigerian expressions, by my Caribbean friends who watch a lot of what they call ‘African movies’, referring to Nollywood, a word many of them still cannot get their heads around, btw.
Today I am using help as a common theme between Workers Day on May 1, aka May Day, and World Press Freedom Day on May 3, both of which evoke a cry for help in me.
Mayday was officially adopted and a radio distress call around 100 years ago (in 1923 in the UK and in 1927 in the US). It is the phonetic equivalent of “M’aidez”, the French for “Help me.”
Writing here on the subject of freedom of press in our country, I have mixed feelings about what it means for Nigerian writers. Obviously I am not alone in this. When ordinary everyday tweets take on the propensity to get a person persecuted, then what’s the point even being human? UNESCO tells us that May 3 “is a date to encourage and develop initiatives in favour of press freedom, and to assess the state of press freedom worldwide”. Worldwide o, you hear?!
Since we purport to be part of the world, and apparently ‘participate in the world’, that includes us, ergo our country, Nigeria. How do we participate in the world, I hear you thinking? There’s a funny Wikipedia page that documents President Buhari to have made 51 trips out of the country between June 2015 and February 2020. I have no way of fact-checking that. All I can say is thank God say some people no get work. No offence intended to all the workers who celebrated Worker’s Day the other day, but I would have died of boredom had I had to compile that list. I digress though. I just wanted to justify my possibly questionable claim that we participate in the world. Let’s focus on press freedom for a minute.
There are many many things that I could criticise President Goodluck Jonathan for retroactively, but one of the issues with which he showed real tennis balls, was proactively granting Nigerians press freedom. This meant that when I co-wrote for the Kenyan parody “Ogas at the Top”, I could criticise the government I may or may not have voted for, freely and in keeping with the general understanding of the definition of a working democracy. And indeed, criticise him we did! If you doubt me, check out BUNI TV on YouTube, the material is all still there and some of it is hilarious, if I might say so myself.
Today though, as I cry “Mayday!” on behalf of all Nigerian writers, journalists, bloggers etc, a feeling of resigned impotence rests heavily on my heart. That recent Twitter episode was surreal. It transported me instantly back to the post-2nd-Republic asphyxia of that military era in which I lost my innocence, confidence and hope, at least in a socio-political sense. Everyone is entitled to their fair share of power in a democracy. Those in government have different powers from those who vote for them, or from Superman. While Superman has superpowers, voters have the power to vote, and should also have the power to express themselves freely, however misguided that expression may be. Government in turn, has the power to counter such free expression if need be, using the budgets allocated for PR, reorientation and such interface with its citizenry. However, to ban freedom of expression that is not unconstitutional seems draconian, and just a little bit weak.
I also cry “Mayday!” on behalf of all the women, children and vulnerable who suffer in the inevitable fallout when press freedom suffers. Notice that those who advocate the stifling of press freedom do not belong to any of those three groups, and one might be forgiven for presuming that they have no regard for the value of the livelihoods or lives of those segments of society. By extension one might also speculate about the honour, indeed the manhood of men who wilfully fail to protect their women, children and aged. How can manhood be claimed by the male egos who dish out destiny through such callous and primitive negligence?
Finally for today, I cry “Mayday!” for all Nigerian workers, whom I also wish a belated Worker’s Day, or Labour Day. We are hearing all sorts of things about salaries being suspended due to depleted budgets. In any case Nigerian workers are so used to having their rights trampled on by employers in both the public and private sectors, that…well…what can I say…?
I mean, am I allowed to even say anything sef? Please somebody help me ask Gomment.
Gomment, please help us overcome all these pesky 20th Century problems we are still afflicted with. True, it is not as though we are the only country with a questionable freedom of press record. We are ranked at 129/180, having dropped from 120 in 2021. But then one looks at a country like Malaysia which is described by RSF as having “a draconian legislative arsenal to restrict press freedom.”, and which is a Muslim State, is ranked at 113/180, having risen from 119 in 2021. They enjoy a high standard of living. Meanwhile, here’s how RSF (Reporters Without Borders) describe Nigeria: “Nigeria is one of West Africa’s most dangerous and difficult countries for journalists, who are often watched, attacked, arbitrarily arrested and even killed.” Is that not how we lost Ken Saro Wiwa back in the day? Shame!
Kudos to the Nigerian journalists who continue to report our numerous difficult truths.
If the Premium Times report of 4 August 2021 is right, and our Oga at the top is absent from work 10% of the time for hundreds of days medical tourism, then do workers not have the right to get paid, and do not the women, children and aged traumatised and often killed by ‘undefined’ criminals, have the right to be reported about in the press, so that based on a public understanding of the status quo, the citizenry can exercise their right to vote for whomever they deem to be the most competent candidate to finally lead Nigeria into the 21ist Century?
In a report on the digital platform QuartzAfrica titled “PAY ME NOW Nigeria has a culture of not paying workers and it’s not about to change anytime soon” we read:
“As with many things in Nigeria the behaviour of the public sector is replicated by private businesses. But private sector employees are rarely featured in the news. Their plight is considered part and parcel of working life…”
In the interim years since that report, numerous more articles have been written about how state governments who are dependent on the federal government, do not pay their workers for months on end, and then sometimes only pay half the salary once they do recommence payments. What sort of life is that?
This is when we have to sing praises to our culture, which it takes for granted that we help one another. When people in the US, UK or Europe speak of social security, I catch myself SMH. I shake my head because they have no idea about the true meaning of that term. There is hardly a Nigerian, rich or poor, including myself, who does not have a story of receiving help from another. It is one of the aspects of being a Nigerian that makes my heart swell with pride. Older siblings help with educating their younger ones, friends chip in to help one give a deceased parent a befitting burial. I remember when Nigerians rallied around the the now deceased Kenyan author Binyavanga Wainana, when he suffered a massive stroke, without a thought about the fact that he was openly gay, refuting much of the negative press we get for being homophobic. Funds were raised to send him to India for treatment, and he never stopped talking about this afterwards, despite a considerable speech defect caused by the stroke. I know because I had the pleasure of spending time with him.
Once I was on a drip in the Doctors’ Room at the Maitama Hospital because the young doctors did not trust me not to discharge myself if they put me in the ward overnight. A man walked in and asked the nurses and doctors who was having trouble paying for their treatment or medication. Without delay he paid several people’s bills, and disappeared again into the night, as quietly and as suddenly as he had appeared.
The instances of Nigerians helping each other in adversity are too numerous to tell, especially those of people who do not even have very much themselves, stepping in for a neighbour, a friend or a colleague.
You sef, who you epp?