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Long Memo to My Sister Dora, The Professor

February 15, 2009
Dear Dora: Please allow me to introduce myself. I am a forty-year-old Gambian professional who has been living on the East Coast of the United States for close to two decades. To say that I am a fan of yours is an understatement. In fact, I am head of the House of Dora Lovers: my two older daughters love Dora, The Explorer, a popular character on Children’s TV, and I their dad, love Dora, The Professor. Like them, I’ve never met my heroine.


But the great thing about living at this time in history is how irrelevant distance has become, not to mention the power of information. You could be baby-sitting in Virginia while watching events in Abuja, or London –Live! So though we are yet to meet physically, I might as well be your biological younger brother because I follow your issues and progress so closely that I anticipate some Western country to pay me mega bucks to be their expert on you Professor Dora Akunyili. Going by their standards in choosing Africa-related “experts,” I am confident that I’m very qualified to be an extraordinary expert on Professor Akunyili.

You see sister, you stole my heart when you dared to publicly name the late El Abuelo Loco - the mad geriatric of Ibadan, a k a Obasanjo’s Garrison Commander, a k a Grandpa Gangster, a k a Chief of the Untouchables, a k a Master Election Rigger, a k a Pa Anarchy, a k a Glorified geriatric Gutterpunk as the stumbling block between your team and the crooked Fake Drug Merchants he was collecting ransom (Protection Money) from. That was the moment I fell in love with you.

They say one shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, so I’ll refrain from mentioning the unmissed nutty grandpa again, but let me just say that the end of some lives is worth clicking cups and bottles with others for. In Manden/Mandinka/Mandingo culture, dogs are regarded as possessing a particularly virulent evil spirit, and when they die and their carcass is dragged and thrown away, kitchen soot is poured after them to prevent their evil spirit from ever coming back to haunt others. One wonders if we shouldn’t be doing the same when some shamelessly unconscionable people pass on. God knows, the African world could do without any more unscrupulous adults. Anyhow, the fact that death is certain is in itself a blessing. If for nothing else, it’s a reminder that despite some people’s pretense, there’s a higher being presiding over things elsewhere.

To some of us, fake drugs are a disguised form of Weapons of Mass Destruction often targeting the most vulnerable in society – the young, the old, the poor, the weak. These are the voiceless, nameless, and faceless of society without the resources to hire connected lobbyists to speak on their behalf. They need a protector from the Merchants of Death and their acolytes. The Chinese –god bless them; execute those who sell poisonous drugs or substances to the public for monetary gain. I don’t understand why the “Chinese Way” isn’t universal. It should be. Those that are greedy and reckless enough to disregard the harm their blind pursuit of material wealth wreaks on the most vulnerable in society don’t deserve to live! Just my two cents. Anyhow, in Africa, for the most part, we still celebrate such people and their protectors as Chiefs and Babas who wine and dine with the mighty.

But my Dora said, “I’m with the Little People!” Dora, Dora, you melted my heart Dora. I cry and laugh with you through your endeavors. Your pain becomes my pain, your frustration mine.

Forgive me my sister, but until you took on Abuelo Loco, I was cynical. Your story sounded too good to be true. Let’s face it, in Africa, when it comes to leadership in the public domain, what seems too good to be true is more often than not, too good to be true.  Storyline goes something like: Dora Akunyili could be a Dollar Millionaire but has decided to shun riches to protect those who can never buy her a bottle of Coca-Cola; Dora Akunyili could be a Mansion Madam, but prefers to be indistinguishable from Dry-fish Titeola at the local market.  My response? Yea, yea, yea! But I’ve changed tack.

Yours is particularly remarkable because you work in The House that IBB (self-described Evil Genius) Built. And IBB’s House Rules are pretty clear – being that the house is made of blocks of lies, deceit, and subterfuge: one is to Live and Let Live. If you come across someone stealing from the public weal, just outdo him or her; if you come across someone griping about all the crookery going on, alert the Security Agencies immediately because such people are the real and only threats to national security. Countries go down not because of thieving leaders, but because of griping Whistle-blowers who “over heat the polity” and cause mass disaffection. What horrible people these are. Like one of the Evil Genius’ mentors Pa Siaky (Stevens) of Sierra Leone used to say: “Ouzai you tie the sheep, Na dey fo eat” – the location you tether the sheep is where it grazes. Anyone who hopes to stay long in IBB’s House better follow the rules. Brother Nuhu (no last name needed,) broke IBB’s House Rules and from what we hear, he can give one a firsthand account of how it feels to be a run-away slave in the bayous of Louisiana –potshots, hound dogs, fast-tracked Insubordination trial and all.

Now, I realize my handicap in the credibility department given that I come from a country currently presided over by a certified lunatic. Even as I write this, Our Rtd Lt. Col, Dr, Professor, Alhagi, President Yahya Jammeh (just a few of the over-a-dozen titles he routinely uses,) has decreed a new priority project: to exorcize Gambia of witches! He has a team of Witch Doctors from Guinea Conakry, who accompanied by armed military personnel are currently going around government Departments and forcing employees at gunpoint to drink a mixture made from a well-known hallucinogenic plant. Those that drink the poisonous concoction and talk gibberish, pee, or defecate on themselves (all predictable consequences of drinking that plant juice,) are immediately pronounced witches. They are arrested and taken to secret locations to be whipped senseless to “cleanse” them of witchcraft! Prior to this, as you may have heard, our Anointed One had discovered a cure for AIDS, TB, Asthma, and countless other diseases. Most of these diseases he is able to “cure” in fifteen minutes! Never mind, the trans-Gambia highway has not been motorable for a decade now – Jammeh magic apparently doesn’t extend to that area. And I wish these were a joke. Not!

This is the one area I disagree with an older brother of mine name Okey Ndibe –who I’m also yet to meet. If you’ve never heard of Okey, I understand. In your line of work, being acquainted with Okey is probably an occupational hazard. So I won’t introduce you to him even if I could. But my brother Okey, who I’m perfect soul mate with on everything else, seems to be under the impression that Nigeria is an undisputed gold prize candidate in the “Country-as-a-real life Theater of The Absurd” category. That would only be true where The Gambia is not competing. You see the personality of a President speak volumes about a country and its polity. And in that area, Baba Clueless Choked Chicken seem pretty tame compared to what we have in The Gambia. For what it’s worth, Baba seem to take George Washington’s advice to heart: keep your mouth shut and let people think you’re dumb rather than open it and confirm it for them.  We in The Gambia wish our Mighty One would keep mute as your Baba Clueless Choked Chicken does.

Anyhow, sister, you can see why I cannot point to anything in my native country to say “this is how we do it in tiny Gambia.” But I beg your indulgence.

After all, I feel unburdened by the degenerate North v. South, East v. West, Southeast v. South South, etc mentality that so many Nigerians struggle with. I confess that I’m being unabashedly presumptuous here -that mine is a view from the Outside-Looking-In.

You see my sister, I love you too much to keep quiet and watch you make a fool of yourself for Baba Deer-In-The-Highlights. As I wrote earlier, I follow you closely. That’s how I’m aware of the initiative you launched in London recently. That whole Image Laundry thing? Sister, Please don’t bother! If you really must spend the money because Baba Clueless Choked Chicken insists that you do, send your little brother the check and I promise you, I’ll put it to better use than anything he might egg you on to do.

You see, I wouldn’t be able to point out Kwara, or Delta, or Abia, or Adamawa to you on an unmarked map of Nigeria, but I know which Governor’s family ruined Nigeria’s equivalent of the US Savings and Loan bank and walked away scot-free to buy multi-million Pound properties in the UK. I also know the identity of the man who was convicted of being a common criminal in both the UK and Nigeria itself only to emerge as a State Governor in less than ten years. As I do the identity of the former Governor who refused to develop his State because that would destroy its ancient historical look, and instead pocketed much of the money allocated to the State in his eight years in office. And I know the King Maker position all these crooked men are now playing in Baba Clueless Choked Chicken’s government – appointing indicted persons to the top echelon of Nigeria’s civil service and all.

Trust me my sister, no amount of fee you pay some Law firm, or Ad Agency in Washington or London could counter the stench generated by the proximity these crooks have to Baba Clueless Choked Chicken. Remember, it was Baba himself who asked a stunned Reporter pool in New York a year ago “why should I not meet with them” (crooked ex-Governors?) If Baba does not understand the message his hobnobbing with crooks send to the rest of the world, how can you launder such a person’s government’s image? An added problem for you is that some of us in the activism business are very generous with tipping Western government officials about What is Really Going On in Africa. Therefore, State Department and Foreign Office officials may not want to endanger their coveted oil contracts by telling you the obvious, but I can assure you, they KNOW what is going on. Consequently, any Image-laundering project you might be devising would be dead on arrival! Why bother sister?

So, instead of embarking on this wild-goose-chase Image Branding thing Dora, here are a few suggestions you can forward to Baba Deer-In-The-Headlights to embark on: Build an Interstate Highway on which Nigerian citizens could travel to any part of the country at any time of the day, night, or year without a hitch; Execute an agricultural program that enables Nigeria to feed its citizens adequately; Build the kind of hospitals that Baba himself goes to visit in Germany and Arabia; Build schools, colleges, and universities that adequately provide the requisite atmosphere for learning; Make Nigerians take reliable electricity and water supplies for granted; Build law enforcement institutions that actually target real criminals –whether  of the gun-toting or Three-Piece suit kind, rather than targeting genuine anti-corruption crusaders and literary critiques as enemies of the country;  Institute social programs that would endear the Have-Nots to the Haves instead of the current status quo where the latter are forced to imprison  themselves in fortified homes in order to protect themselves from the wrath of the former.

Believe me my sister, accomplishments like these cited above would launder Nigeria’s image more than anything a Western Law firm or Ad Agency can do for the country. The fact that Baba Clueless Choked Chicken is more concerned about what John Smith in London, and Andrew Wozniek in New York think about Nigeria than what Bolatito in Lagos does, is itself part of our problem. If you can afford to, you should advice Baba to send a team to Cuba to learn what committed leadership can accomplish with very little resources. If Fidel Castro had a quarter of Nigeria’s oil revenue, he’d had turned his country into heaven on earth – despite all the rubbish his adversaries say about him.

If Baba delivers in the areas noted, your job and life will become very easy my sister. All of us Africans –not just Nigerians, in the Diaspora, will become Nigeria’s proud ambassadors – for free. You won’t need to worry about paying us or coming up with any slogans. We will coin those ourselves. And we will back the slogans with our little hard-earned money to invest in a rising Nigeria. Seeing the gusto with which we engage in such investment in our most visible geopolitical entity, other people will beg in on the action – irrespective of their current misgivings and contempt. Remember, capital goes where rewards and security are guaranteed. It wasn’t long ago that China was viewed negatively.

Failing these, the failure that awaits the incubating new Image-Laundering project will make the erstwhile Heart Of Africa campaign look like a gold prizewinner. And until then, Nigeria shall remain a caricature of its potential: a wobbly giant known more for its extraordinary thieves and shameful avoidable failings than anything else. As it is, anytime we hear the name currently, we wince and brace for some unkind joke.

Sorry to burst the bubble, and break this bad news to you my sister, but –pleeeeeease. Enough with the foolishness. Since Baba Clueless Choked Chicken doesn’t mind being a puppet on the string of well-known crooks, let those same “resourceful” crooked puppeteers launder his government’s image for him!

My heart bleeds for you Dora because of your assignment. Sorry my sister!

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