Emotional rollercoasters

Over the years my engagement with Nigeria has been like sitting on the front row of an emotional rollercoaster: exhilarating and full of wild highs followed by gut-churning descents. Somehow, on a regular basis, this entity that binds so many people and cultures rises like a balloon of hope and euphoria only to be “chuked” and plummet to the ground. Is it so amazing that social media displays our youth to be utterly cynical towards politicians and infatuated with the trappings of celebrity and bling-draped second-rate musicians? Or that so many Nigerians seek solace and escape in religion to the point of obsession? Can we be surprised at how our culture of respect for our elders and family, of service to community and pride in the notion of a Nigeria bound in freedom, peace and unity can be destroyed within a single generation? I can only imagine the despair of those patriots that fought for independence and now scan the empty horizon for signs of their trampled vision.

When I first came to Nigeria as a visitor, there were still celebrations from Shagari’s re-election in the air. In his second term a new breed of ministers were to be introduced to help deliver solutions to emerging economic problems and change the perception of corruption. He was never given that chance as hopes were dashed that Nigeria could remain military-free. In 1993, I joined the board of Guinness Nigeria in another turbulent year of optimism ground into the dirt by the annulment of election results. Then in 1998 I remember jubilant phone calls delivering the news of Abacha’s passing. I could even hear songs of joy in the background as I spoke to someone in the High Commission in London. At each change of government since 1999 we built our expectations on an improvement in the economic and social management and a reduction in the levels of corruption. We seem now to forget that even in 2011 there was genuine optimism when Goodluck Jonathan was elected before, yet again, our hopes were sunk.

After the euphoria of election night, President Buhari asked the Nigerian people for patience. Anyone with commonsense understood he has no magic wand, no silver bullet. What can be achieved will be from a vision that is subjected to detailed and robust planning to an achievable budget and with realistic objectives. This takes time. However, as I have written, in line with so many other commentators, this administration needs to send some positive messages now. At the moment, though he has asked for patience and it is still only a short time since his inauguration, the pressure is building up for signs of movement. I have spoken about the need for symbols. By this I mean specific acts that may be small in themselves but express intent in a way that people can identify and engage with. Tom Peters, the American management guru, says, “The best leaders…almost without exception and at every level, are master users of stories and symbols.”

Although President Buhari does convey his personal beliefs through symbols (his perceived austerity and his refusal to use some of the trappings of power are two simple symbols that resonate with people), at APC government level the only symbols or signals we are getting are negative ones. The failure to appoint key aides, such as the chief of staff, is a negative symbol that goes beyond the purely practical level that nothing can be done until appointments are made into signs of a deeper malaise. The battle between different factions of APC for ministerial positions is another negative symbol. These are symbols of a titanic, almost existential, battle between the best interests of the country and the narrow interests of a few individuals or a particular class. These symbolize that instead of change all we are getting is the “same old, same old” language of vested interest, just in a different accent.

I wrote much of this when in Abuja for some unconnected meetings. However, this did give me the opportunity to witness the horse-trading that accompanied the circus that is called our National Assembly. Sitting in the Hilton observing the cabals whispering in corners, the broad smiles and backslaps as sincere as the fox eyeing the rabbit and the strange bedfellows squeezing in the lift gave me no feeling of change, only business as usual. The only change seemed to be a fresh preponderance of dashiki over the ‘resource control’. This may itself be a symbol but it is not the kind I have in mind! Certainly, the whole behaviour of Senator Saraki and his hijacking of the PDP vote against his erstwhile APC allies do not symbolize change. In fact it is a strong message that for many of our legislators this is all about them and not about their responsibilities. Do they know how this behaviour makes ordinary people feel when watching it?

What we need now are genuine symbols of President Buhari’s intent, ciphers that he is in control and not being dictated to by factions around him. However, despite appointing two media advisors, there do not seem to be any indications that those around him recognize the need for proactive communication designed to align his supporters and reassure the nation that he has a plan. The election has raised the hopes of the polity. We have felt that euphoria and persuaded ourselves that ‘Sai Baba’ will make the difference when deep in our psyche we fear the melancholy of yet another disappointment. As Martin Luther King once wrote, “We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope.” We have been forced to accept our disappointments too often. Unless President Buhari quickly gives us symbols to believe otherwise, he might finally extinguish our ability to hope.

 

Keith Richards