Last week I returned to Lagos, It was for the most part; hot, sweaty and uncomfortable, rather unlike Ireland at the moment, brrrrrr! Despite the weather, the week-long seminar I attended was full of energy and commitment. Catholic Relief Services (a sister agency of Trocaire that I am on secondment with in Nigeria), Human Rights Watch and Chatham House are developing a project across seven countries in the Gulf of Guinea, Africa. Civil Society and Church partners will be supported to monitor and analyse transparency in the extractives industry and in host government budgetary processes. By understanding revenues accruing to the state, analysing budget commitments, people can better analyse and challenge the performance of their governments.
Underlying the project is the fundamental philosophy that citizens should benefit more broadly from state resources, especially those that derive from oil and other precious minerals. Without miring you in the complexity of the subject and for fear of displaying my scant (but growing) knowledge, I suggest that you look at the website of the Publish What You Pay Campaign; www.publishwhatyoupay.org . To distil the essence of the PWYP coalition; citizens in resource-rich are largely unaware of the commercial agreements entered into between their states and multi-national oil companies, lack knowledge on the revenues entering state finances from these sources and thus have little oversight on Government budget processes and subsequent spending on social services. This lacuna opens up the possibility for large-scale corruption.
Language can act as a bridge or barrier. All professionals are guilty of creating terminology that is decipherable only by those within their ranks. I hope my readers are not so afflicted! The language of the oil industry is dense and opaque and is confounded further by complex legal and taxation frameworks. Budgeting and public policy are not the subject matter of many a fireside-conversation; are they? The question is how can and why should the average person engage with such arcane subjects? A recent report from Human Rights Watch on Rivers State Local Government in Nigeria provides some answers.
Budget monitoring at a local level
Nigeria has squandered billions of dollars yearly in oil revenues over decades. Corruption and mismanagement of resources extends from the federal to the local government level. In Nigeria, State and Local Government account for close to fifty per cent of all government expenditure. Despite Local Government revenues increasing four fold in the period 1999 to 2006, the impact at a local level has been negligible.
The report illustrates how such waste leads to the infringement of basic human rights, in this case health and education in Rivers State (one of the states in the Niger Delta) , Nigeria. Many of the schools in the 23 Local Government Areas have just bare walls and nothing else. There are schools with; no desks, chairs, books, no running water nor toilet facilities. The scale of the neglect is a disgrace. The dereliction of duty by government officials is a disgrace.
Anger can dissipate into acceptance and resignation or maybe a call to action. Many Nigerians are angry and frustrated (talk to taxi drivers who queue for hours for petrol!) and must organise at a local level to demand accountability from their officials. People need to gain access to local budgets and monitor the delivery of local services.
It is a great challenge for people to rise above self and factional interests to demand more and recognise their collective concerns. Trocaire are planning to support such budget monitoring activities across 6 church dioceses in the coming year. It will be a challenging process for our partners to engage in, challenging entrenched power structures at a local level. The budgets are often a closely guarded secret and treated as the private property of Local Government chairpersons (in 2003, all 774 local government chairpersons were men!) and their officials.
Why is collective action so difficult? It is in many countries and communities; in this country there are a myriad of reasons but when one considers that Nigerians have experienced close to 30 years of military rule since independence in 1960, one can understand people’s reticence to involve themselves in politics and civic life. Instead for instance, disaffected youth are organised to act as militias or for shows of campaigning prowess during the election period. In the short term, the youth will earn much-needed money but afterwards most elected officials will largely ignore them and other citizens until the next election.
The Human Rights Watch reports monumental waste and extravagance throughout the state, for example, a local government chairman in Rivers State bought one thousand tickets for the World cup from the local government budget. I admire his choice of events if little else. There are great voids in government service delivery and regrettably anger, frustration (and criminality) amongst other factors are fuelling violence in the Niger Delta, this is a subject for another day!
Thursday, February 8, 2007
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
A Christmas bonanza
On December 26th, a fire ripped through the crowded Abule – Egba area of Lagos. Hundreds of people burned to death, as they desperately scooped buckets of petrol gushing from a vandalised pipeline that ran through the city.
Firstly, forgive me for this basic lesson in economics. In line with economic theory, as the demand for fuel rose (millions of people on the move) and without a corresponding rise in supply, the price of fuel rose appreciably. Normally, petrol retails for 60 Naira per litre, in certain parts of Nigeria the price rose to over 110 Naira per litre in this period. As traffic flows were crippled in Lagos and petrol was scarce, a ruptured pipeline was a prospective bonanza.
In press reports, a local resident expressed his feelings, ‘if we don’t scoop fuel from here, hunger will kill us. If we die from explosion here, it is still death out of want. We might as well stay here, scoop and hope to survive’. In the maelstrom of an impending catastrophe, many worried residents tried to explain the dangers to those caught in the fuel frenzy. Hundreds of people carried on, ignoring the potentiality of disaster. One spark later, death and destruction engulfed the area.
Nigeria is moving on from this disaster and lurching conceivably to the next. Over 2000 people have died in Nigeria in similar incidents in the past few years. One cannot absolve people from personal responsibility for their actions. As people, we have duties and responsibilities, make choices and live with the consequences. This level of personal responsibility is balanced by the duties of the state to provide for the needs of its people. This is a basic interpretation of a ‘social contract’ that binds citizens to their state.
So what of the Government response to this disaster? The President acknowledged the scale of the tragedy in the following way ‘As the nation mourns the many victims of this very unfortunate incident at Abule – Egba (Lagos – my words), the President wishes to restate that we can avoid a recurrence of such disasters in future if all persons engaged in the immensely hazardous and illegal business of pipeline vandalization take up legitimate employment elsewhere’.
The vandalization of pipelines is a lucrative business for some, organized gangs rupture pipelines and fill tankers full of petrol for sale on the black market or elsewhere. Vested interests are against a properly functioning pipeline distribution system. Countless petrol tankers trawl through Nigeria making poor roads even more dangerous. Addressing the poverty of the masses as well as the illegality of the few are key challenges for Nigeria.
Firstly, forgive me for this basic lesson in economics. In line with economic theory, as the demand for fuel rose (millions of people on the move) and without a corresponding rise in supply, the price of fuel rose appreciably. Normally, petrol retails for 60 Naira per litre, in certain parts of Nigeria the price rose to over 110 Naira per litre in this period. As traffic flows were crippled in Lagos and petrol was scarce, a ruptured pipeline was a prospective bonanza.
In press reports, a local resident expressed his feelings, ‘if we don’t scoop fuel from here, hunger will kill us. If we die from explosion here, it is still death out of want. We might as well stay here, scoop and hope to survive’. In the maelstrom of an impending catastrophe, many worried residents tried to explain the dangers to those caught in the fuel frenzy. Hundreds of people carried on, ignoring the potentiality of disaster. One spark later, death and destruction engulfed the area.
Nigeria is moving on from this disaster and lurching conceivably to the next. Over 2000 people have died in Nigeria in similar incidents in the past few years. One cannot absolve people from personal responsibility for their actions. As people, we have duties and responsibilities, make choices and live with the consequences. This level of personal responsibility is balanced by the duties of the state to provide for the needs of its people. This is a basic interpretation of a ‘social contract’ that binds citizens to their state.
So what of the Government response to this disaster? The President acknowledged the scale of the tragedy in the following way ‘As the nation mourns the many victims of this very unfortunate incident at Abule – Egba (Lagos – my words), the President wishes to restate that we can avoid a recurrence of such disasters in future if all persons engaged in the immensely hazardous and illegal business of pipeline vandalization take up legitimate employment elsewhere’.
The vandalization of pipelines is a lucrative business for some, organized gangs rupture pipelines and fill tankers full of petrol for sale on the black market or elsewhere. Vested interests are against a properly functioning pipeline distribution system. Countless petrol tankers trawl through Nigeria making poor roads even more dangerous. Addressing the poverty of the masses as well as the illegality of the few are key challenges for Nigeria.
Friday, January 5, 2007
Christmas in Nigeria
After an eventful journey, I arrived with my friends Cherie and Ebere (an American and Nigerian respectively) to the village of Awoide Mmili, Imo State in the South East of Nigeria. Ebere had invited us to spend Christmas with her family in her father’s village and we were happy to accept. It was a welcome change from the city and comforting to be amongst the Ezeunala family for Christmas.
Christmas morning, a mournful cry awakens me from my slumber. The goat’s throat was cut. It was 8.00 am and preparations for dinner were under way. Following a light breakfast, I turned my attention to slaughtering the goat. I have to admit a passive observation of the process rather than active butchering. My friend’s brother carefully dissected the animal after burning off the goat’s hair and removing the skin. This was all carried out under the careful supervision of his father. Thus the skills of rural life are passed on from generation to generation. I cannot imagine the same rituals being revived at home; such practices reside in the fading memories of our parents.
In good style, after the slaughter of the goat, Ugo, the girls and I shared a few glasses of palm wine. This was a very special occasion, sharing and drinking of palm wine is deeply ingrained in the cultural life of many rural Nigerians. On Christmas Eve we took a walk through the village. Our passage along the sandy lines, illuminated by the half moon light, we spotted a figure rising purposively up a tall, slender palm tree. It is a most peculiar sight; a figure with a candle affixed to his head ascends the tree. Earlier in the day, the man would have visited his trees, tapped a small pipe into a tree branch and the palm wine would have seeped through the pipe into a container. Many hours later, the bounty is collected and delivered to expectant patrons the following day.
Christmas is a time for family, to meet and share. Millions of Nigerians travel home for Christmas, clogging up each road artery throughout the country. For many, this is the only time they will travel home in the year. It was simply nice to sit back and watch a family reuniting, catching up on stories and family affairs. During conversation the family switch readily between English and Igbo, for I was staying with a friend in the South Eastern part of Nigeria, the ethnic stronghold of the Ibo people. What can appear as trivial or innocuous conversation can hide a great deal; should they cook five, six or more cups of rice? Essentially the family are not sure how many neighbours might turn up for dinner. The family will offer food to those who come around, unannounced. Christmas is not a time of plenty for all.
Despite more than forty years of independence, many rural areas of Nigeria have no electricity or at best a flicker of intermittent light. The electricity service has been privatised over the past few years and has by necessity changed names from NEPA to PHCN. Reflecting a particular sense of humour and adroit use of English, the entity formally known as ‘Never Expect Power Again’ has re-emerged as ‘Problem Has Changed Name’. Nigerians don’t expect a lot from their Government. Recurrent experiences strengthen such expectations and the gap between citizen and state grows ever wider.
Christmas was fun. It was peaceful and relaxing. My time was spent reading, eating and talking while wondering what temperature the bottled beer would be in the local road-side bar. It is a strange feeling to be a minority. Walking through the village, children stop and stare at you, each and every day. Older people, whatever the level of English will though, without fail say ‘you are welcome’. I do not seek to overly romanticise life in the village, for many life is a great struggle. I will always remember the warmth of the welcome and innumerable sights and sounds of village life.
Happy New Year folks!
After an eventful journey, I arrived with my friends Cherie and Ebere (an American and Nigerian respectively) to the village of Awoide Mmili, Imo State in the South East of Nigeria. Ebere had invited us to spend Christmas with her family in her father’s village and we were happy to accept. It was a welcome change from the city and comforting to be amongst the Ezeunala family for Christmas.
Christmas morning, a mournful cry awakens me from my slumber. The goat’s throat was cut. It was 8.00 am and preparations for dinner were under way. Following a light breakfast, I turned my attention to slaughtering the goat. I have to admit a passive observation of the process rather than active butchering. My friend’s brother carefully dissected the animal after burning off the goat’s hair and removing the skin. This was all carried out under the careful supervision of his father. Thus the skills of rural life are passed on from generation to generation. I cannot imagine the same rituals being revived at home; such practices reside in the fading memories of our parents.
In good style, after the slaughter of the goat, Ugo, the girls and I shared a few glasses of palm wine. This was a very special occasion, sharing and drinking of palm wine is deeply ingrained in the cultural life of many rural Nigerians. On Christmas Eve we took a walk through the village. Our passage along the sandy lines, illuminated by the half moon light, we spotted a figure rising purposively up a tall, slender palm tree. It is a most peculiar sight; a figure with a candle affixed to his head ascends the tree. Earlier in the day, the man would have visited his trees, tapped a small pipe into a tree branch and the palm wine would have seeped through the pipe into a container. Many hours later, the bounty is collected and delivered to expectant patrons the following day.
Christmas is a time for family, to meet and share. Millions of Nigerians travel home for Christmas, clogging up each road artery throughout the country. For many, this is the only time they will travel home in the year. It was simply nice to sit back and watch a family reuniting, catching up on stories and family affairs. During conversation the family switch readily between English and Igbo, for I was staying with a friend in the South Eastern part of Nigeria, the ethnic stronghold of the Ibo people. What can appear as trivial or innocuous conversation can hide a great deal; should they cook five, six or more cups of rice? Essentially the family are not sure how many neighbours might turn up for dinner. The family will offer food to those who come around, unannounced. Christmas is not a time of plenty for all.
Despite more than forty years of independence, many rural areas of Nigeria have no electricity or at best a flicker of intermittent light. The electricity service has been privatised over the past few years and has by necessity changed names from NEPA to PHCN. Reflecting a particular sense of humour and adroit use of English, the entity formally known as ‘Never Expect Power Again’ has re-emerged as ‘Problem Has Changed Name’. Nigerians don’t expect a lot from their Government. Recurrent experiences strengthen such expectations and the gap between citizen and state grows ever wider.
Christmas was fun. It was peaceful and relaxing. My time was spent reading, eating and talking while wondering what temperature the bottled beer would be in the local road-side bar. It is a strange feeling to be a minority. Walking through the village, children stop and stare at you, each and every day. Older people, whatever the level of English will though, without fail say ‘you are welcome’. I do not seek to overly romanticise life in the village, for many life is a great struggle. I will always remember the warmth of the welcome and innumerable sights and sounds of village life.
Happy New Year folks!
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
A home from home
Happy Christmas everyone! This will be my first Christmas spent away from home; as such it will be tinged with certain sadness and perhaps the onset of home sickness. To date though, I am still in a relaxed and anticipatory mode, maybe akin to the expectant child on Christmas morning, wondering what delights will Nigeria bestow on me over the coming holiday season and beyond? Plenty of palm wine is a distinct possibility.
Today, my predecessor Ronan left for Ireland. He has lived and worked in Nigeria for the past two years, and the people here have left an indelible mark on his soul. We will meet at a still undetermined time in a watering hole in Galway in the future. Based on current climatic conditions, my thinking that it may be on a floating bar. My brother informs me that it has rained for the last forty days in Galway; Michael, maybe it’s an ark you should be building! Surprisingly, it’s still sunny here.
Having a place to call home is something instilled in the human psyche. This is very true of the Irish as much as Nigerians. A home should offer some security, safety and sense of belongingness. Thousands of such homes have been destroyed in Abuja over the past few years, causing the displacement of hundreds of thousands of people. The reason for destroying the homes, simply put, they did not fit in the Master Development Plan for the city. While similar actions raised the shackles of the media when perpetrated in Zimbabwe, the actions in Abuja went largely unreported in the Western Media.
The signs of the destruction wrought over the city are not so visible now; the sites of homes are now covered by long grass, though one can still see particular buildings marked by an X, ready for bulldozing. One can appreciate that the federal government did not want another labyrinthine Lagos-like city to develop in the new capital, I guess it is important to remember though all ‘development’ is value laden, often determined by those with power.
So wherever you spend Christmas, appreciate where ever you call home and the people you share it with.
See you in 2007.
Today, my predecessor Ronan left for Ireland. He has lived and worked in Nigeria for the past two years, and the people here have left an indelible mark on his soul. We will meet at a still undetermined time in a watering hole in Galway in the future. Based on current climatic conditions, my thinking that it may be on a floating bar. My brother informs me that it has rained for the last forty days in Galway; Michael, maybe it’s an ark you should be building! Surprisingly, it’s still sunny here.
Having a place to call home is something instilled in the human psyche. This is very true of the Irish as much as Nigerians. A home should offer some security, safety and sense of belongingness. Thousands of such homes have been destroyed in Abuja over the past few years, causing the displacement of hundreds of thousands of people. The reason for destroying the homes, simply put, they did not fit in the Master Development Plan for the city. While similar actions raised the shackles of the media when perpetrated in Zimbabwe, the actions in Abuja went largely unreported in the Western Media.
The signs of the destruction wrought over the city are not so visible now; the sites of homes are now covered by long grass, though one can still see particular buildings marked by an X, ready for bulldozing. One can appreciate that the federal government did not want another labyrinthine Lagos-like city to develop in the new capital, I guess it is important to remember though all ‘development’ is value laden, often determined by those with power.
So wherever you spend Christmas, appreciate where ever you call home and the people you share it with.
See you in 2007.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Back from Lagos
Time is moving on in its relentless fashion. Four weeks have passed since I left Autumnal Ireland for African soil. On Friday last, I visited Lagos. It’s a place like no other. Lagos and Abuja stand as testimony to the great contradictions and diversity of Nigeria. Lagos is loud, energetic, dynamic and more than a little wild; Abuja a calmer, safer, more prosperous but somewhat soulless city. How to bring some order to Lagos and life to Abuja, quite a challenge? Answers on a postcard please.
When you think of Africa what springs to mind? As I meet new people here in Nigeria, it is quite usual to be asked how long I have been in the country, what are my impressions, and have I been in Africa before?. As often as not, when I recount my experiences of South Africa (a magical country), you will be met with the retort that South Africa is not really Africa, it’s too developed or such like.
South Africa is as much African as any other country. It has a great diversity of people, boundless potential but enormous challenges to meet the needs of its people. As a country it can be a model for the rest of Africa it has good infrastructure (roads and telecoms), a growing economy (albeit without corresponding job creation) and a deepening democracy. Though, there is no escaping the enormity of challenges that face South Africa, reducing poverty and decreasing the yawning gaps of economic disparity in the country.
I can appreciate what people mean when they say such like about South Africa but really what do people envisage for the future of this continent. Will Africa remain forever in peoples’ minds a place of poverty, famine, war and other such ills? Maybe the future will mirror the present? What about my new home, Nigeria? Will it remain a great place to live if one is lucky enough to find a job or hold onto some levers of power or lines of patronage? Money though is not a prerequisite for happiness, for a new study of more than 65 countries published in the UK's New Scientist magazine suggests that the happiest people in the world live in Nigeria. Cash rich, time poor Christmas shoppers of Ireland take note.
In the future, can Africa combines its diverse cultures and people, unforgettable sights and sounds with responsive government who work with and for the people? Will Africa emerge as a place where people are not forced to leave their country or rural areas because of poverty? The future is unknown; we are forever restricted by bounded rationality, for few Irish people in the 1980s could have foreseen the New Ireland of the Millennium.
When you think of Africa what springs to mind? As I meet new people here in Nigeria, it is quite usual to be asked how long I have been in the country, what are my impressions, and have I been in Africa before?. As often as not, when I recount my experiences of South Africa (a magical country), you will be met with the retort that South Africa is not really Africa, it’s too developed or such like.
South Africa is as much African as any other country. It has a great diversity of people, boundless potential but enormous challenges to meet the needs of its people. As a country it can be a model for the rest of Africa it has good infrastructure (roads and telecoms), a growing economy (albeit without corresponding job creation) and a deepening democracy. Though, there is no escaping the enormity of challenges that face South Africa, reducing poverty and decreasing the yawning gaps of economic disparity in the country.
I can appreciate what people mean when they say such like about South Africa but really what do people envisage for the future of this continent. Will Africa remain forever in peoples’ minds a place of poverty, famine, war and other such ills? Maybe the future will mirror the present? What about my new home, Nigeria? Will it remain a great place to live if one is lucky enough to find a job or hold onto some levers of power or lines of patronage? Money though is not a prerequisite for happiness, for a new study of more than 65 countries published in the UK's New Scientist magazine suggests that the happiest people in the world live in Nigeria. Cash rich, time poor Christmas shoppers of Ireland take note.
In the future, can Africa combines its diverse cultures and people, unforgettable sights and sounds with responsive government who work with and for the people? Will Africa emerge as a place where people are not forced to leave their country or rural areas because of poverty? The future is unknown; we are forever restricted by bounded rationality, for few Irish people in the 1980s could have foreseen the New Ireland of the Millennium.
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Lies, damn lies and ..........
November 30th Out and about in Abuja
Greetings, it has been an exciting week around Abuja as the capital city moved into party mode; the Carnival has been in town last weekend. I abandoned the festivities and played my usual round of footie with the lads. That in retrospect seems to have been a mistake on my part, we lost the game abysmally and I missed a great display of horsemanship and pageantry at a local Durbar. Oh yes, Colonel Gadaffi of Libya was spotted walking on the dualcarriage near Abuja, some diplomatic spat at the airport, not sure of all the detail.
Sometimes, I think back on past memories, some utterly joyful, others perhaps not so and at times look forward to life’s unknowns. In Nigeria, one out of every five children will not live beyond the age of five, or more starkly 200 of every 1000 babies born alive will not see their fifth birthday. That’s a statistic; take from it what you will.
So, let’s say an average child reaches the age of five in Nigeria, what are the likely or possible paths they will follow? Increasing numbers will go to primary school but many will drop out before reaching secondary school, not from lack of talent or drive to succeed, but oftentimes out of sheer poverty. In the 1980s Nigeria was widely regarded and recognised as having one of the best education systems in Africa, producing tens of thousands of graduates on a yearly basis, vast numbers though have chosen, by choice or otherwise to leave their country to works as doctors, engineers, lawyers and nurses around the world. So those with varying degrees of education, what are their chances of finding employment in Nigeria?
Nigerians living and working in Ireland, Europe or wherever might be surprised to know that the unemployment rate currently in Nigeria stands at 12.5 per cent or so the Federal Bureau of Statistics report here. This may be true, depending on how you define unemployment, but it is likely to be a gross manipulation of the figures or accurate perhaps if you define unemployment narrowly and exclude those living on the edges of society, those hawking goods, struggling on small farms, or the utter millions surviving in a multitude of ways but not in the formal economy.
Any idea what is the population of Nigeria? You can phone a friend, ask an audience if they are to hand or just hazard a guess. Current wisdom suggests that the population is close to 130 million. Problem is; there has not been a ‘proper’ census in Nigeria since 1963 A recent speech from the Minister of Finance quoted a population figure of 150 million inhabitants in this vast country. What’s in a statistic………. well, you can lose or gain 20 million people in the blinking of an eye.
The wonders of statistics, here is one that is likely to be true, in 2006, the Federal Bureau of Statistics reduced its workforce from 4000 to 2800, or in their words ‘disengaged’ 1200 workers. That’s 30 per cent of the workforce retrenched or is that a productivity gain of 42.85 per cent? Ponder what this may mean?
I am off to Lagos this weekend, home to millions of people, how many people, its anyone’s guess. So what’s in a statistic? A life extinguished, unfulfilled, a whole world of opportunity lost or gained, manipulation, power or just chance.
Have a good week.
Greetings, it has been an exciting week around Abuja as the capital city moved into party mode; the Carnival has been in town last weekend. I abandoned the festivities and played my usual round of footie with the lads. That in retrospect seems to have been a mistake on my part, we lost the game abysmally and I missed a great display of horsemanship and pageantry at a local Durbar. Oh yes, Colonel Gadaffi of Libya was spotted walking on the dualcarriage near Abuja, some diplomatic spat at the airport, not sure of all the detail.
Sometimes, I think back on past memories, some utterly joyful, others perhaps not so and at times look forward to life’s unknowns. In Nigeria, one out of every five children will not live beyond the age of five, or more starkly 200 of every 1000 babies born alive will not see their fifth birthday. That’s a statistic; take from it what you will.
So, let’s say an average child reaches the age of five in Nigeria, what are the likely or possible paths they will follow? Increasing numbers will go to primary school but many will drop out before reaching secondary school, not from lack of talent or drive to succeed, but oftentimes out of sheer poverty. In the 1980s Nigeria was widely regarded and recognised as having one of the best education systems in Africa, producing tens of thousands of graduates on a yearly basis, vast numbers though have chosen, by choice or otherwise to leave their country to works as doctors, engineers, lawyers and nurses around the world. So those with varying degrees of education, what are their chances of finding employment in Nigeria?
Nigerians living and working in Ireland, Europe or wherever might be surprised to know that the unemployment rate currently in Nigeria stands at 12.5 per cent or so the Federal Bureau of Statistics report here. This may be true, depending on how you define unemployment, but it is likely to be a gross manipulation of the figures or accurate perhaps if you define unemployment narrowly and exclude those living on the edges of society, those hawking goods, struggling on small farms, or the utter millions surviving in a multitude of ways but not in the formal economy.
Any idea what is the population of Nigeria? You can phone a friend, ask an audience if they are to hand or just hazard a guess. Current wisdom suggests that the population is close to 130 million. Problem is; there has not been a ‘proper’ census in Nigeria since 1963 A recent speech from the Minister of Finance quoted a population figure of 150 million inhabitants in this vast country. What’s in a statistic………. well, you can lose or gain 20 million people in the blinking of an eye.
The wonders of statistics, here is one that is likely to be true, in 2006, the Federal Bureau of Statistics reduced its workforce from 4000 to 2800, or in their words ‘disengaged’ 1200 workers. That’s 30 per cent of the workforce retrenched or is that a productivity gain of 42.85 per cent? Ponder what this may mean?
I am off to Lagos this weekend, home to millions of people, how many people, its anyone’s guess. So what’s in a statistic? A life extinguished, unfulfilled, a whole world of opportunity lost or gained, manipulation, power or just chance.
Have a good week.
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Week 2: Road trips: Nigeria Style.
This week Ronan (my predecessor in Nigeria, helping me to settle in before he returns to Ireland) and I were on the road, travelling to Idah, a town five hours or so south of Abuja. Travelling on the roads is a chastening experience, for one is never truly comfortable that one will reach your destination in one piece. There are a number of alternative strategies to adopt 1) close your eyes, cross your fingers (toes are optional) and sleep! 2) remain awake and look out the window and do not look forward at any cost. 3) take a flight, (after three serious plane crashes in Nigeria over the past year or so), its an option.
So taking to the roads, very soon after you leave the capital, dual carriageway becomes single roadways and so on. Soon, the journey becomes a game of dodge the pothole, swerve the chicken, evade the policeman (invariably standing in the middle of the road) or whatever obstacle that lies in your path. Looking out the window is far more enjoyable, offering a host of sights and images of life in Nigeria, people on the move, trading a myriad of goods from roadside stall and sometimes one will see some most unexpected sights.
Nigerian elephants come in all sizes and shapes and can at once amaze the unsuspecting traveller; these not so rare creatures are easily recognised by their white colour dissimilar from their grey African cousins. The most splendid specimen is most visible in Ajaokuta, you cannot miss it; it is the Ajaokuta Steel Company. This is a behemoth structure, a complex that stretches for miles, with great smoke stacks stretching into the sky, an adjoining complex to house thousands of workers, a power plant to feed its voracious appetite for electricity, a railway to transport the iron ore, thousands of workers, many of which are still employed today. Sounds great, a feat of planning and engineering, one slight problem it has never produced an ounce of steel, not a paper clip, nothing! It just devoured billions of dollars of government revenue. Lesser examples of this creature, the white elephant exist along the roadside, large hotels in rural villages without guests, incomplete houses replete with grass carpet.Moments of quiet and near serenity are possible, peering at palm and coconut trees dotted across the landscape. Without warning, a wreck of a bus or oil will appear from the roadside. Often you will see a bus, perching plaintively on blocks, stripped off wheels and all dignity; its passengers long gone on their way. These buses disintegrate slowly, a rusty shell at the side of the road.
Our trip was for work purposes and involved attending the last days of a partner Livelihood Security evaluation that Trócaire was supporting. Trócaire has worked with a number of organisations (Justice Development and Peace Movement, Abeokuta, Diocesan Development Services, Idah and WODECO) that support the livelihoods of rural people through specific agriculture projects, micro credit and savings schemes and other interventions. It is apparent that the organisations have been successful in supporting the livelihoods of many people in their target areas. On a wider macro scale, Nigeria has consistently underinvested in agriculture and has shown scant attention to the needs of rural development. These are the structural issues that small organisations struggle to deal with. Nigeria has staked all its hopes on oil and left other sectors of the economy to flounder.
These remain difficult challenges for small organisations that are in themselves good organisations, working in a difficult and challenging environment. The following is a likely scenario in a livelihoods intervention, farmers adopt new and improved farming techniques after working in collaboration with an NGO, this leads to increased crop production but marketing arrangements are not in place, the food cannot be stored or processed for prolonged shelf life and so crops often go unsold. Now the farmer who had limited or no capital to start the planting season is again dependent on an NGO or other community support to meet their needs. This cycle of dependency is proving hard to break.
This is life in Nigeria, fast and unforgiving for many. It is a struggle for many to survive and live in peace and security.
So taking to the roads, very soon after you leave the capital, dual carriageway becomes single roadways and so on. Soon, the journey becomes a game of dodge the pothole, swerve the chicken, evade the policeman (invariably standing in the middle of the road) or whatever obstacle that lies in your path. Looking out the window is far more enjoyable, offering a host of sights and images of life in Nigeria, people on the move, trading a myriad of goods from roadside stall and sometimes one will see some most unexpected sights.
Nigerian elephants come in all sizes and shapes and can at once amaze the unsuspecting traveller; these not so rare creatures are easily recognised by their white colour dissimilar from their grey African cousins. The most splendid specimen is most visible in Ajaokuta, you cannot miss it; it is the Ajaokuta Steel Company. This is a behemoth structure, a complex that stretches for miles, with great smoke stacks stretching into the sky, an adjoining complex to house thousands of workers, a power plant to feed its voracious appetite for electricity, a railway to transport the iron ore, thousands of workers, many of which are still employed today. Sounds great, a feat of planning and engineering, one slight problem it has never produced an ounce of steel, not a paper clip, nothing! It just devoured billions of dollars of government revenue. Lesser examples of this creature, the white elephant exist along the roadside, large hotels in rural villages without guests, incomplete houses replete with grass carpet.Moments of quiet and near serenity are possible, peering at palm and coconut trees dotted across the landscape. Without warning, a wreck of a bus or oil will appear from the roadside. Often you will see a bus, perching plaintively on blocks, stripped off wheels and all dignity; its passengers long gone on their way. These buses disintegrate slowly, a rusty shell at the side of the road.
Our trip was for work purposes and involved attending the last days of a partner Livelihood Security evaluation that Trócaire was supporting. Trócaire has worked with a number of organisations (Justice Development and Peace Movement, Abeokuta, Diocesan Development Services, Idah and WODECO) that support the livelihoods of rural people through specific agriculture projects, micro credit and savings schemes and other interventions. It is apparent that the organisations have been successful in supporting the livelihoods of many people in their target areas. On a wider macro scale, Nigeria has consistently underinvested in agriculture and has shown scant attention to the needs of rural development. These are the structural issues that small organisations struggle to deal with. Nigeria has staked all its hopes on oil and left other sectors of the economy to flounder.
These remain difficult challenges for small organisations that are in themselves good organisations, working in a difficult and challenging environment. The following is a likely scenario in a livelihoods intervention, farmers adopt new and improved farming techniques after working in collaboration with an NGO, this leads to increased crop production but marketing arrangements are not in place, the food cannot be stored or processed for prolonged shelf life and so crops often go unsold. Now the farmer who had limited or no capital to start the planting season is again dependent on an NGO or other community support to meet their needs. This cycle of dependency is proving hard to break.
This is life in Nigeria, fast and unforgiving for many. It is a struggle for many to survive and live in peace and security.
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