The Unseen Consequences of Recession From My Observation: Ohikhuare Isuku

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t’s a common knowledge that economic recession is characterized by poor standard of living, high cost of living, astronomical inflation rate, unemployment, unstable marriages and relationships among others. But it’s unusual to note that recession also results in rise in the number of wedding ceremonies, more romantic relationships, increased quest for higher degrees, and the most disastrous being the increase in the number of reported cases of adultery in which women are found guilty.  

The increase in the number of reported feminine adultery of recent has been disturbing. This new development of infidelity has resulted in a number of depression cases, divorces and very often deaths. So many stakeholders have blamed the fall of values and prestige for this ugly development, while others have conveniently pointed their accusing fingers at the infiltration of African’s unique traditions which define threshold for taboos, by the untamed culture of the West. These persons easily support their assertions with the fact that in those days, if you dared to commit a taboo like adultery, there was bound to be a repercussion of some sort; and even though these spiritual repercussions weren’t that potent, they carried with them great fear which checked the excesses of the populations. But these taboos were condemned by new faiths introduced by foreigners, and the fear the taboos took along with them was eroded gradually. Hence the consequential result of immorality.

But I don’t entirely agree with the above assertions. Yes, they might be true, but in my own opinion, recession has a far-reaching effect on the crackdown of values and dignity than the condemnation of taboos by new faiths. This is my observation since the recession began, or since Nigerians were told the suffering they’d suffered for many decades is called Recession.

During hunger and strife, there is breakdown of law and order. In this case, value and dignity are no exceptions. With the hassle in our national life since the recession, I think cases of feminine adultery have more than doubled the number of the past decades. A housewife with a very poor husband, for example, who has five little children crying for want of food, wouldn’t think of dignity if a wealthy man offers her a slim wad of crisp naira notes for sex.

Apart from feminine adultery, many things change during recession. Like numerous marriages. In this case, young ladies want to get married because of unemployment; they just want men they can depend on no matter how meagre the men’s salaries are; they pressurize their partners with threats of breakup if they refuse to marry them. At last, many men fall for these threats and borrow to walk the young ladies down the aisle. The hardships which follow soon after these premature marriages lead to marital instability and infidelity.  If the economy were to be stable, women would be fully engaged, and they’d think less about marrying for dependence.

Also from my observation, the increase in the number of University graduates desirous of master’s degree and PhD is a direct consequence of a recessive economy. If the economy were stable, so many graduates would prefer to seek for jobs rather than go for higher degrees. Only those who have interest in research and the academics will aim for further education. Nowadays, graduates would most likely want to have a higher degree either to increase their chances of securing jobs in the already congested labour market or to keep themselves engaged with a comforting sense of dependence, while they scout for jobs which aren’t within reach. 

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The Ibadan Experience: Ohikhuare Isuku

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esterday, I saw a young boy for the first time in Ibadan who did not betray his timidity either through excessive veneration or by affecting an unwarranted arrogance just to shield the inferiority complex his or her cultural upbringing has inflicted on him. 

It was evening – at that time the sky took a uniform greyness like the colour of thick billow of smoke – and I had come to the market to shop for groceries. When I was done, I decided to get a carton of noodles from one of the shops which flanked the market at the outskirt. I saw this young boy there inside the only shop opened at the outskirt. He was chubby and dark-complexioned; his height was just perfect for a boy of ten, although I would not know. He asked what I wanted even before I spoke. His voice was firm, yet it lacked this common scorn most children I had seen possessed just to mask the damages a stiff upbringing had caused on them. 

I told the young boy I wanted noodles, half-cartoon. He gave me the price, and once I had agreed to terms, he brought the cartoon of the noodles from where it was piled up, using a stool. Then he did what caught my eyes: he actually joked with me confidently. I can't remember the joke exactly. Maybe the shock that a child brought up in Ibadan had had the gods to make such clever joke, made me forget the content of it. I laughed and I joked with him also. His response was mature and I was truly impressed. But this boy saved his best display for the last. As I was about leaving after the transaction, he said to me, "thank you"; there was no "sir" attached to it. A sugary sensation rose to fill my mouth instantly and I was forced to ask him if he was an Ibadan boy. He shook his head in the affirmative. I smiled and was impressed, and as I walked away that grey evening, I saw in that young boy this privilege his guardians gave him to grow at his pace, not being squeezed with expired cultures of bowing down and prostrating or nodding head like a slave does to a slave-master which are the only ways these people believe respect can be expressed. 

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o me, most Ibadan people are hypocritical outright, especially those blabbing market women at Orita. Anytime I visit their market, the women bathe me with "uncle", "sir", "brother" and many other annoying prefixes. Even one day, a woman – about my mother's age – dared to call me "daddy". She had gone too far, I thought within myself, and then I summoned the courage to beg her to stop it; that I had not given birth yet; I was still in my twenties. She was obviously embarrassed, but in her weak defense, she said either ways, I would be a daddy someday.  Sadly, what makes this exaggerated veneration annoying is that the same woman who just called you "uncle" might be the one to spill insult on you soonest, at the slightest provocation.

The opinion I strive to buttress here is that excessive veneration – like prostrating or kneeling to greet – is not a true way of showing respect. These acts are slave-like. Because as from early age, if a child is forced to learn these norms against his or her will, the child is driven into the abyss of low self-esteem. This low self-esteem is a problem which to a large extent is directly linked with fear, betrayal, deceit, corruption, manifested by the child as he or she journeys into adulthood. 

Ohikhuare Isuku,
Ibadan,
Nigeria.

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Remembering Iseyin With Sound: Ohikhuare Isuku

Between sound and smell, which preserves memories better?

For me, I would choose sound over smell because the former is firmer, and there is likelihood to come across it even in a thousand years. But smell could be distinct and unique, appearing once in every generation.

I spent three weeks at Iseyin (a beautiful town where three hills rest against the eastern sky), and it was again sound and not smell that preserved the thrilling memories I had of that camp. Perhaps, it was because Iseyin had no smell or rather it had different arrays of smells which superimposed, resulting to a destructive interference.

I have preserved Iseyin memories with complex sounds from Yanni's soundtrack like: At First Sight, Tribute, Nice to Meet You and Rite of Passage. These memories were stuffed into these beautiful music, so that when I listen to them now, it's as though an invisible force is leading me around Iseyin Camp: the open and closed pavilions, the halls of residence, mami market, man o war ground, the early morning parade in which smokes of cloud perched on the crests of the three hills.

I miss Iseyin, especially the scenery and the few friends I made there even in my silent state. I have preserved these in eternal sounds; they will live forever now.

Ohikhuare Emmanuel Isuku,
(Remembering Iseyin Camp With

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The Truth: Poem by Ohikhuare Isuku

Your eyes are not just mere eyes,
They are tiny sparks of love
Which burn deep to engrave
Your image in my heart.

Your hands are not just hands,
They have this ecstatic sensation,
Which vibrates my whole being
And keep me still in your arms.

Your lips are not all they seem to be;
They must be stalk of cotton wool,
Dipped in spirit,
Because of their softness,
Because of this chillness I feel,
When you pressed them against mine.

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Failure: Poem by Ohikhuare Isuku

How frequently failure
had nestled in my loft,
breathing dust which
suffocates my eyes.

How its fiery-darting flames
dance against the secret walls
of my hearts, leading me
gently into the vale of anguish,
but do I dare refrain from dreaming?

I fail more than I succeed,
but these failures
are concealed inward
as huge waste of depression.

They burn the heart,
they consume the soul,
suck off the joy which moists
our countenances,
but still, we forswear not
the cradle of our dreams.

I'll fail again;
I'll fail a million times
before my evening comes,
because for just a success,
there have to be many failures:
many attempts at dreaming.

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Why History Books Forgot Oshiomhole

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hen Oshiomhole was declared winner of the 2007 gubernatorial poll by The Court of Appeal on November 11^th, 2008, Edo state went wild in jubilation. The excitement was thorough and it cut across individuals – from a two-year-old toddler to a wobbling old man sitting on a wonky chair. Bikes throttled to the highest while smokes billowed from their exhausts as they plied through streets and roads of Benin-city, Ekpoma, Auchi, Uromi, Afuze and many small towns across the state. On November 12^th, 2008 when he was sworn in as the new governor, he christened himself as “The People’s Governor” which was widely accepted in the state and beyond.

For the four years he spent as governor in his first tenure, Oshiomhole laid a sturdy foundation which could have written his name on moving clouds and extolled him as one of the greatest leaders who ever came out from our continent, being on the same history pages with Nelson Mandela. In these years in review – his best years in office – roads were constructed, the public transport system had a ray of hope, pensioners’ funds weren’t delayed, public schools were refurbished, major roads and streets of Benin City wore a new identity of sanity and above all, Edo state GDP more than doubled the result obtained from the addition of nine years before his tenure began.

Of course, these achievements in his first tenure were stellar in our eyes when we compared them with the wasteful administrations which came before him; but in retrospect, we would find out they were  valueless, and it was just another trick of his to be re-elected for a second term.  In mid-2012, Oshiomhole was brought back to Osadebe House for a second term. It became one of the greatest mistakes Edo people ever made. He won with a landslide victory. And this victory went across the eighteen Local Government Areas of the states, even in Opposition’s strongholds. And again, the people thronged out to celebrate with their “hero”, oblivious to them that it was like their sentence to the gallows. But today, we are consoled by the fact that Oshiomhole became governor of Edo state; if not, we would have thought we missed a rare gem who never had the opportunity to lead Edo people from Osadebe House.

Oshiomhole first started to erase his name from history books few months after he was re-elected in 2012, when his administration rigged the Local Government Elections with impunity, and threatened those who rose against the results with fire. This, coming from a man who prior to his election came up with a campaign of “One Man One Vote”, was disappointing and hypocritical. This one error went on to pull off feathers from the hat of honour he wore at that time. Then, there came this inactiveness in his second term: the down-tools, the uncompleted projects, blamed on the fact that the economy was poor and national allocation was dwindling due to falling oil prices.

In 2016, Oshiomhole’s sins were forgiven; his outstanding first tenure had perhaps shone light upon the darkness his second tenure cast upon Edo state, or maybe it was because of the bags of money the administration used to intimidate the poor electorates that made his anointed candidate win the gubernatorial poll to succeed him as the new governor of the state.

When we thought Oshiomhole’s shadows of mismanagement and acrid hypocrisy had passed us by for good, he secretly facilitated a devilish law that almost shrank Edo state’s purse. In the days which followed his exit from Osadebe House, Edo people were shocked to learn that some controlled denizens who prided themselves as members of our State House of Assembly had unanimously passed a bill which spelt out that past governors and deputy governors of the state would henceforth be entitled to pay-off grants, amounting to two billion naira when combined. These grants included: beautiful mansions in choicest locations in Nigeria, a number of cars to be changed every five years, cooks, secretaries and drivers (starting as Level 12) whose salaries would be paid by the Edo state government. This bill was ready to be signed by the new governor when the press learnt of it. We thought Oshiomhole would speak against this bill, considering the personality he always pretended to showcase, but our “saint” has been silent since then, which lent credence to the very fact that he facilitated that bill underground for his selfish gains, despite the glaring poverty lurking in the state.   

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"Restructuring" - The Next Unfortunate Word in the English Dictionary

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rior to the 2015 general elections in Nigeria –  during those uncivilized political campaigns which degenerated to verbal attacks that almost tore up the polity – a word from the English Dictionary became synonymous with hopefulness and development. This word was “Change” – the slogan of the progressive party (APC) that prided the “infallible” General as its presidential flag bearer.  “Change” became the song of hope in the morning and the chant of fairness at night. Today, that word has been raped. Although there was change obviously – like the fall in the purchasing power of our currency, and the consequential hike in the prices of commodities, more than 200% – it happened to be in direct consonance to the expectations of the people. In Nigeria at present, the word “change” bears the same absurdity and offensiveness as “fuck you”. If you want to make a gathering of people laugh or angry (depending on their default state) you can just mention the word “change” to achieve your set goal. “Change” is definitely fading away like the word “power” (1999-2015). But “power” lived longer than “change”; it spanned over a decade.

As the 2019 general elections come closer, politicians – in their craftiness – have searched through the English Dictionary to bring out yet a new word for their political campaigns. This innocent word is “restructuring”; it will be offered for sacrifice on the altar of 2019 general elections. After 2019, “restructuring” will lose its romance, and if it’s possible then to cast a poll of the most unpopular word in Nigeria, it will top the list, as the word “change” is currently doing.

Contenders for 2019 general elections have turned their eyes to “restructuring” because it is the new yearning of a sizable portion of the population. They had yearned for “change” before 2015; not the kind of change currently in place in which a minimum wage, earned by a sizable portion of the population, is not even enough to purchase a bag of rice. They yearned for positive change – like the stabilization of the economy. But now they have been disappointed; now they are frustrated. This frustration is propelling them to clamour for “restructuring” in the form of True Federalism, and again politicians have seen this as a bait to pull votes in 2019. They might succeed as they did with “change” in 2015, but “restructuring” will be condemned in the gallows thereafter.

With a repetitive vilification of words in the English Dictionary by Nigerian politicians once in every four years, I am hopeful that one day the god of vocabularies would rise up in fury to smite them, in order to save his works from being ridiculed by these denizens of hell.

Ohikhuare Isuku,
sIbadan, Nigeria.
Twitter: @ohikhuare_isuku

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