“She was called Phillis, because that was the name of the ship that brought her, and Wheatley, which was the name of the merchant who bought her. She was born in Senegal. In Boston, the slave traders put her up for sale:
-she's seven years old! She will be a good mare!
She was felt, naked, by many hands.
At thirteen, she was already writing poems in a language that was not her own. No one believed that she was the author. At the age of twenty, Phillis was questioned by a court of eighteen enlightened men in robes and wigs.
She had to recite texts from Virgil and Milton and some messages from the Bible, and she also had to swear that the poems she had written were not plagiarized. From a chair, she gave her long examination, until the court accepted her:
Abiola Invited Abacha To Overthrow Shonekan And Handover To Him After. - SDP Party Chairman.
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“I was returning from one of such trips to a prominent Emir one afternoon when I heard from my car radio Chief Abiola calling on General Abacha to come and ease Chief Shonekan as he eased out Babangida, I was shocked.
I called Chief Abiola and asked for an explanation of what I had just heard.
His reply was, “Mr. Chairman, I am very happy to have worked for you. You are a strong-willed man, but you see, if you want to go to Kano by road and you later decide to go to Kano by air, as long as you get to Kano, there is nothing wrong with that”.
At this time, the party did not know and I did not know Chief Abiola was having discussions with General Abacha who had promised him that if Chief Abiola supported, and if he, General Abacha, took over from Chief Shonekan today, he would hand-over the reins of Government to Chief Abiola the next day, and Chief Abiola bought the idea.
We later got to know that there were series of meetings in Ikeja where names of those who would serve in Abacha government were discussed and forwarded. When we found out that things were not moving well and that the interim government was a lame duck, I went to have a meeting with the then Secretary for Agriculture, Alhaji Isa Muhammed, and I expressed my disgust at the way the government was being run.
On two occasions, I addressed the Federal Executive Council under Chief Shonekan when the two Chairmen were invited.
On the first occasion, I told Chief Ernest Shonekan that the relationship between the governors and the interim government left much to be desired as there was no discipline. Chief Shonekan picked up a copy of the constitution and said, “Chairman of SDP, I will go by this document. I have to obey this constitution. If any governor has misbehaved report him to the police”.
The second time we were called on an issue in the chambers when the Federal Executive Council was meeting, again I raised the alarm and I again told Chief Shonekan that one day, the military boys will come and drive him out of his seat.
Chief Adelusi Adeluyi (Juli Pharmacy) who was the Secretary for Health got up and told his colleagues that the Chairman of SDP had twice given warning signals and no one seemed to be taking the warnings seriously.
We again left and allowed the Federal Executive Council to continue its meeting. On this very day, I went to the Secretary for Agriculture, Isa Mohammed, and had discussions on the unsatisfactory state of affairs. He was a personal friend and he promised to see Chief Shonekan that evening with a promise to get back to me, no matter how late.
"No man's life, liberty, or property is safe while the legislature is in session."
- Gideon J. Tucker
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A Governor Bola Tinubu of Lagos would not vacate his seat for anyone appointed illegally from Abuja - or from anywhere. If the heavens wanted to fall, he would ask them to fall. He would not go hide somewhere in his wife's handbag, and from the safety of his ghetto be issuing gutless press releases. If Abuja insisted on his suspension, he would mobilise the law and lawyers for eruptions of seismic proportions. He would ask the Supreme Court to determine whether the president could sack or suspend elected governors, appoint caretaker governors and take over the role of state Houses of Assembly. He would ask the apex court to reconcile this case with its earlier verdict which outlawed caretaker governments for one of our tiers of government. He would put everything he had into the mix; he would count the teeth of the tiger in Abuja. But Rivers is not Lagos, and Siminalayi Fubara is not Bola Ahmed Tinubu. The difference between both is the difference between courage and cowardice.
Until Saturday when he spoke on the Rivers State problem, ex-President Goodluck Jonathan walked the terrace of power with utmost carefulness. He avoided speaking truth to power the way the barefooted avoids walking a floor of broken glass. But on Saturday, he came out of his zone of reticence, and dared the dark, dangerous sherds of impunity. Jonathan spoke following President Bola Tinubu's deployment of a Supreme Court judgment to meddle with and seize control of the nuts and bolts of our federation. In a fit of daring, calculative move for political advantage, Tinubu suspended democracy on a floor of the structure. And days after the act, without a whim of resistance, he got legislative approval for the mess. He left no one in doubt that all the powers and principalities of this realm are with him and that they work for him.
There is a royal family in Lagos called Oniru. In the earliest times when there was no Lagos and Eko knew its boundaries, that family owned all lands that house today’s Awolowo Road, the prime area called Falomo, Tafawa Balewa Square, the Independence Building, Island Club, Yoruba Tennis Club, et cetera, et cetera. Add Oyinkan Abayomi to that list, and, in addition to those places, input 18 other villages – all in pricey Lagos Island.
The family that owned all those is the family that produced the new and contentious speaker of Lagos State House of Assembly, Mrs Mojisola Lasbat Meranda. Do not mind her surname; she is an Oniru. Her brother is the reigning Oba of their Iruland. She is a princess but being a princess is not enough for her to join the big league of Lagos. Her election as speaker by almost all her colleagues, means little or nothing. In the pantheon of Lagos politics, there is always one god whose one vote trumps a million ballots. In some places, you do not have to enter the grove before you become an elder; grey hair is enough. Not in Lagos. In Lagos, the godfather is the igbó’rò, the sacred grove that confers age, that vests authority in and breathes life into all figurines.
The search for that breath is what is making Meranda and her backers panting. And, she has just started. Breaking into the power vault of Lagos uninvited is akin to sitting on a million needles. She did that and must, therefore, writhe from the needle effect. Fortunately for her, she is a woman with a lot of fluid in her tear gland, and she has been generous with shedding princely tears since her colleagues invested her with the authority to be speaker of the president’s state. Last week, the sacked speaker, Mudashiru Obasa, borrowed some lines from Black Scorpion’s Third Marine Commando. Obasa landed at the House complex at dawn and sensationally announced his comeback. As cover, he had guns and boots of various shapes and sizes behind him.
I “kind of” like Senate President, Godswill Akpabio and his lovely wife, Unoma. She is Igbo, married to Akwa Ibom, so she also bears the name Ekaette.
When Akpabio was the Governor of Akwa Ibom State, I admired the couple so much. The two usually displayed their love for each other publicly. Unoma would use fan on her husband each time she was there and he was making a speech. Atimes, she would use a white handkerchief to wipe sweat off Akpabio as he read. Akpabio also reciprocated in kind. He did the same for her.
Our high profile Leaders hardly show their love for their spouses publicly. We admire the Obamas, for instance, when they hold each other in public, kiss and dance – even the Trumps- but our own people are stiff. Akpabio, I don’t know about now, was different when he was Governor. I will also say that for my State Governor, Senator Hope Uzodinma and his beautiful wife, Chioma. They hold hands and cling to each other publicly, even in Church, as if they just met. Good for family values.
In five parts, thirteen chapters, six appendices, including an interview; a prologue and an epilogue, he sought to give a definite definition of himself. But, for me, the deepest insight into the person of General Ibrahim Babangida is not in his expensive book (it fetched him billions; I bought a copy for N40,000). The greatest revelation was at the launch of the book in Abuja. His comrade-in-arms and childhood friend, General Abdulsalami Abubakar, revealed that a cleric told them about 80 years ago that Babangida would one day be president of his country.
Now, when you, a seer, tell a child that he would be king one day, the palace cannot be safe until the child becomes man and he becomes king – or he dies. We read exactly that in Shakespeare’s story of the Scottish General, Macbeth. Three witches tell Macbeth that he will be King of Scotland. Macbeth becomes impatient; he kills the reigning king and takes the throne. Because of the security of his throne, paranoia pushes King Macbeth to take other desperate measures. People die; civil war erupts, more people die. Darkness falls. Please, go back and read again your Macbeth.
My people have several proverbs and sayings on royalty and fate. They say one’s destiny makes one a king but one’s character dethrones one (Orí ẹni ni í fini j’ọba, ìwà èyàn ni í yọ èyàn l’óyè). Like Macbeth, IBB joined the army and rose to become a General. Again, like Macbeth, the Thane of Cawdor prophecy came true for Babangida and he became Chief of Army Staff. Finally, like Macbeth, he became king and pronounced himself president and proceeded to do as Macbeth did until he left almost the Macbeth way. If you had been wondering why the amiable General from Minna chose ‘president’ as his official title, now you know it was in fulfillment of a prophecy.
In recent days, the United States has begun a major gutting of USAID, the agency responsible for administering foreign aid. Many Americans are celebrating this as a victory—finally, no more taxpayer dollars wasted on countries that, in their view, give nothing back. Elon Musk, the billionaire who only arrived in the U.S. at 24, went as far as calling USAID a “criminal organization,” declaring, “Time for it to die.” Donald Trump has labeled those in the agency as “radical lunatics.” American adversaries, eager to see the U.S. retreat from the global stage, have cheered them on. But the most ecstatic of all are everyday Americans, convinced that their country has been bleeding money for too long on nations that seemingly offer nothing in return.
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It’s a tempting narrative. A compelling soundbite. The idea that the U.S. is simply throwing billions at ungrateful nations makes for good political theater. But peel back the layers, and this argument falls apart. Foreign aid is not charity; it is a business transaction, a diplomatic tool, and an economic strategy. It benefits the giver far more than the receiver. The problem is that ordinary citizens in donor countries, including the United States, rarely see how this system enriches their own economy, sustains their industries, and extends their country’s global influence.
Foreign aid has long been a strategic tool for influence peddling in international diplomacy. The Marshall Plan, which saw the U.S. inject over $13 billion ($173 billion in today’s dollars) into Europe after World War II, was not simply a benevolent act. It was a calculated move to counter Soviet influence and solidify U.S. leadership in the Western world. By rebuilding European economies, the U.S. ensured that its allies remained stable and aligned with its interests, creating lucrative markets for American goods in the process.
The same principle applies today. Countries receiving U.S. aid are far more likely to support American policies in international forums, grant military access, and enter favorable trade agreements. In Africa, for example, USAID programs often come with subtle (or not-so-subtle) conditions—align with Washington on key votes at the United Nations, accept certain military partnerships, or open markets to American corporations.