A scientific meeting and my anger

I just returned from a 90-minute scientific brainstorming session of my host centre, the Afrikan-StudieCentrum (ASC), Universiteit Leiden. The fulcrum of the discussion was an invited presentation by Professor Arie Rip, a philospher of science. I will skip the details--they are mostly in-house issues of research focus, team sizes and so on. One of the most contentious issues discussed was the tendency for politics and policies to want to interfere with research content and focus. Those at the meeting--we were just about ten--were passionately opposed to this kind of interference and decry the growing tendency. Rather than cooperate with research centres, they allege, ministries are trying to influence the focus of these centres and even the content of their research. They spoke with amazing vehemence and passion, with the kind of concern of someone whose territory, nay, life, is being encroached. For a while, I mentally left the venue and took a (mental) trip to Nigeria. Each time we hold meetings in my Department back home, we are preoccupied with a set of concerns completely different from those of these scientists at ASC. We talk about funding, electricity, salaries, a sick student, approaching strikes and ASUU meetings, deadlines, deadlines and more deadlines from the office of the Vice Chancellor--deadlines about results, deadlines about a report going to the NUC, deadlines about admission meetings, deadlines about a list to be sent to the NYSC, deadlines that you heard of only after they had expired. Deadlines often require typsetting and printing and you have to do all of that without electricity. I cannot remember that we ever discussed research focus or agenda inmy Department! The mundane matters of mere existence consume all our passion and energy. ASC scientists--do they know they are lucky that policy makers and politicians are trying to influence them? In Nigeria, policy makers and politicians don't even know we exist. We don't count. They don't need us. Our research counts for nothing. And that is why no professor of communication has been invited by the National Assembly (NA) to enlighten it about the Freedom of Information bill; no professor of law has been invited to the NA to help it out of the quagmire created by Yar'Adua's situation. Before the 2007 elections, no professor of medicine was asked to render his/her opinion on whether or not Yar'Adua's condition could prevent him from ruling. No wonder, even we do our research in Nigeria just to lengthen our list of publications and get promoted as and when (un)due. Nigeria--the most annoying thing is not that we are not there; it is that we aint even moving forward.

Nigeria: what do you write?

I was asked by the Prince Claus Fund and the Mondriaan Foundation to give a 30-minute presentation on Nigeria: people, politics and culture. The talk comes up on February 3, 2010. For a long while, I was confused. What do you say about a country that you love so intensely but whose leaders let you down so much? How can you be fair about Nigeria without lying? The paradoxes of Nigeria became my heartache! A country so rich yet so poor; so big yet so small that Abacha kept her in his chest pockets for years... I was delighted when I later received a phone call from the organisers asking me to limit my presentation to Lagos. Ah! Lagos. Click here for the presentation and please leave your comments.

Thanks.

Leiden: Here are the keys but where is Peter?

‘... And I am back!’
I am in Leiden, an ancient small city in the Netherlands. I will be here for three months, a visiting research fellow at the Afrika-Studiecentrum, Universiteit Leiden. During the three months that I am out of Nigeria, I hope to blog regularly. Welcome to Leiden!

Leiden is truly an ancient city. It is said to have been a small cluster of huts during the Roman occupation about 150 AD. Then it was known as Leithon. About 1050 AD, it became “villa Leyden” and its fortifications were first built. Stone buildings were erected as from about 1450 AD—and some of these buildings are still standing. In fact, Pieterskerk (Peter’s Church) was built in 1473 and is still standing—an awesomely magnificent edifice. The people still treasure their old bicycles. In fact, it’s as if the older is the better among the Leidenaars.

What interests me most is the Leiden coat of arms. Yes, this little city has its own coat of arms complete with its own flag and public holidays. (The Nigerian government promised immediate arrest, detention and worse to anyone found with the old Biafran flag or currency!). The Leiden coat of arms is a red lion holding a rampart on which there are two crossed red keys. The books say the lion stands for strength and defiance—as demonstrated in the refusal of the people to surrender to Spanish siege in 1573-74 in spite of severe starvation. The siege was lifted—as the Spanish army left on October 3, 1574. These days, that day of relief is celebrated annually with utmost pomp in Leiden. The two crossed keys, the books say, symbolise the keys of Heaven handed over to Peter by Jesus Christ with the words, in Matthew 18:19, “I will give you the keys of heaven...”

Everywhere you turn in the city, you see the two crossed red keys: on the entrances of bars; on public dust bins etc. Peter’s keys are everywhere but where is Peter? Beyond the keys, there is nothing in the present to show that the Bible and Christianity were once so central in the Leidenaars’ scheme of things, so central that Peter’s keys became Leidernaars’ identity and symbol of faith and hope. The few Leidenaars I’ve talked with are proud to say that they have no religion. They are also happy to say that few subjects are taboo here, that same-sex marriage is okay and that they were raised by permissive parents etc. Not only this, my colleague tried all he could but was not able to find a church last Sunday: the maps suggest that there are only two churches in this city of about 120,000 residents. Pieterskerk is now more of a tourist centre, a museum than a worship centre. Well, many Leidenaars go in there once a year for the October 3 Thanksgiving.

How does one interpret this metamorphosis? Leidenaars are known for the pride they take in the history of Leiden and their unshaken commitment to preserving their cultural practices: about 20 museums that dot this little land, bicycles, flowers, gin and art works, all confirm this. Somehow, religion seems to have slipped away within the fingers of the custodians of Leiden culture. Cultural preservation is indeed a collective but subjective and selective process.

Or maybe it was that Christianity did not really take firm roots at Leiden in the first instance; not as much as it did in, say, equally ancient Oxford (UK) or even in the US. The Calvinists drove away the Catholics from Leiden in the summer of 1566 and replaced them with what and whom? And what of this old popular saying among the Dutch (Leidenaars inclusive): “God made the world, but the Dutch made the Netherlands”. That saying isn’t heading in the same direction as ‘In God we trust’, is it? Leidenaars appear to have been very practical rather than religious—even in their far past. When the siege of 1574 was on, they printed emergency money and on the notes they wrote “Haec libertatis ergo” meaning “These, then liberty”. God had no place in it. Those words have been part of the Leiden coat of arms since after World War II. (Nigerians appear to be more religious than practical. Maybe the truth is in the combination: practical, socially relevant religion).

Tot zien!

There is a Nigerian Spirit

There is a Nigerian spirit... and it is not a bad spirit. Recently, our youngest daughter was on admission at the University College Hospital (UCH) for a surgical procedure. UCH is top on the list of tertiary health facilities and teaching hospitals not only in Nigeria but also in West Africa. But news about UCH can be terrible: nagging nurses; uncaring doctors; consultants more interested in research than in patients, and stinking corruption. A friend of mine told me how his mum on admission at UCH needed oxygen and he paid for 12 cylinders of oxygen but got receipts for only two! Pretty much like what you hear about Nigeria. But not much different from what you hear about the Blagojevitchs, Halliburtons etc. of America!

My experience with UCH showed me something not often heard about Nigeria. My daughter had just been wheeled into the theatre and we were sure the surgical procedure was on when electricity went off! In Nigeria, we would say NEPA (or PHCN, that is, power authorities) took light. My heart skipped a beat. But right in the reception where we were, other medical teams were examining other patients including a six-week old baby. Pronto! All of them--nurses and doctors--brought out their handsets and switched on the flashlights! Each of the fifteen or so handsets had a flashlight. So the examination out there at the reception and, I imagined, my daughter's surgery right in the theatre continued under the light provided by the galaxy of twinkling flashlights. This event and several others I had at UCH (for instance, nurses and doctors raising funds for patients) showed that there is a Nigerian spirit--a great and indefatigable spirit. It is a spirit that achieves something working with nothing! This spirit works with nothing because of irresponsible and irresponsive national and state leadership. And sadly, it is a spirit that often goes unacknowledged in the national and international media.

This is not a campaign for the Nigerian government's rebranding exercise. As a matter of fact, I think the slogan of that exercise should read: Good people; great nation; bad leaders! (Not just 'Good people; great nation'). Rather, this is my attempt to celebrate a spirit we have trampled underfoot for ever so long.

JCLA Special Edition on Media and Democracy in Africa

The Journal of Communication & Language Arts (JCLA) just released a special edition on 'Media and Democracy in Africa'. Guest-edited by Dr Anthony Olorunnisola, Head, Department of Film/Video and Media Studies, the Pennsylvania State University, US, the edition contains contributions from Ethiopia, Kenya, Nigeria and the United States. Click here for the Table of Contents. Click here for abstracts of the articles. Click here for more information about JCLA including guidelines for submission of articles. A copy of the special edition costs $10 including postage. For your copy, send a mail to ayo.ojebode@gmail.com

Naked oath-taking picture and the question of press freedom in Nigeria

On June 29, the Compass Newspaper published an article reporting that some members of the Ogun State House of Assembly, Southwest Nigeria, secretly took a blood oath to ensure unflinching unity in their bid to remove the governor of the State. Mr Wale Alausa, one of the members was shown nude, taking the blood oath and the photograph was published on the front page of the Nigerian Compass. This has expectedly generated a lot of comments. The comments are about the social disdain for blood oath, power thirst and political intrigues.

What worries one about the story is none of those issues. Rather it is question of the freedom of the press in a democracy like Nigeria. Is the Nigerian press truly free in this democracy—freer than it was during military regimes? By some risky extrapolation, is the press really free in a democracy?

Siebert and his team in their seminal Four theories of the press assume a smooth transition from the authoritarian press system to the libertarian or social responsibility press system as a nation transits from autocracy to democracy. In fact, Anthony Olorunnisola in his book on the press in South Africa after apartheid describes as theoretical incongruent a situation where the press does not transit with the nation. But it appears that the Siebert et al’s definition of press freedom was influenced by the context of physical violent harassment and military oppression against the exercise of the professional rights of the journalist.

Current events in Nigeria and in some other African democracy (eg. Kenya and Uganda) show that the absence of physical harassment and military oppression, and transition to democracy do not truly expand the elbowroom with which the journalist practises his trade. This is not a new finding. Again Olorunnisola warned that the press may simply transit from being controlled by government to being controlled by the wealthy especially advertisers.
Back to Ogun State, Nigeria. I interacted with a staff of the newspaper that published the nude photograph of the lawmaker from Ogun State. The paper is owned by the governor of the state, and the lawmaker was one of those allegedly intending to impeach the governor. It is clear where the paper belongs in the controversy between the governor and the lawmakers. My friend told me he was truly ashamed that the paper published such an offensive photograph, and that the paper has become an instrument in the hands of the governor in the ensuing battle. He believed that the picture was distasteful and could invite disaffection from readers. He said it violated ethical standards; it was wrong. But why then was it used? My friend’s answer boils down to this: it puts bread on the table.

Is the press free in a democracy? My friend feels it is not. The enemy of press freedom in a democracy is only different from, it is not less vicious than, the enemy in a military regime. And the enemy is NOT the commercial advertiser. My friend felt that if any staff of the paper refused to do the bidding of the governor—the owner of the paper—such person’s job was up for grabs. There is a fast growing trend of establishment of newspapers by politicians in Nigeria. In fact, about 90% of existing Nigerian newspapers are owned by serving governors, legislators and active political heavyweights. These ones dictate what the average Nigerian knows through the papers. Is the press freer in a democracy? I am truly worried.

The ban on radio review of newspapers in Nigeria: five months after

In December 2008, the Broadcasting Organisation of Nigeria (BON) and the Nigeria Publishers Association (NPA) had a meeting during which they announced a ban on the review of newspapers by radio and television stations in Nigeria. Their reason was that the sale and readership of newspapers were being adversely affected by these reviews. They claimed that once people listened to the reviews, they no longer bought the papers; they felt they had heard everything the papers had to say from the reviews by radio and television.

That ban is five months old now and it may be premature to ask if it has increased the sale and readership of the papers. It is however not premature to ask if the broadcast stations are conforming to the ban. The answer is ‘no’. Rather than cancel newspapers review programmes, stations have found ways of reviewing the papers without calling it a review and running foul of the ban. The stations still review the papers but do not refer to their programmes by such names as they used to do. Names such as Today in the papers; What the papers are saying; Inside the papers and Koko inu iwe irohin have since disappeared. What we now have is Daybreak gist; Review; or Have you heard? Not only this, reviewers no longer mention the newspapers they are reviewing nor refer viewers and listeners to the pages from which stories have been picked. Every direct or remote reference to the newspapers is avoided. In addition to this, some reviews are now spiced with local gossips and reports.

This raises a number of issues. NPA and BON based their ban on the review programmes on emotional economics, not on facts and figures. There were no studies or statistics to show that readership and sales of the papers were related to radio and television review of the papers. In fact some have claimed that the reviews encouraged them to buy the papers.

Secondly, the laws, policies and promulgations in Nigeria are ‘an ass’. They are mute and lame in most cases. That is why it is easy for broadcasters to freely sidetrack the ban. That is why months after the National Assembly banned public ‘spraying’ of the naira, the practice still continues and is publicised on the Nigerian Television Authority (NTA) in its weekly Newsline. In Nigeria, the law is an ass especially when the violator is rich, powerful and well connected. That is why the National Broadcasting Commission turns a blind eye on the excesses of some stations (such as Silverbird) and hammers others (such as AIT and Channels).

Third, broadcasting in Nigeria is really a business venture wholly in the hands of entrepreneurs. The newspaper review programmes are among the most heavily sponsored programmes. Most stations cannot immediately discontinue these programmes because sponsors have paid for the whole quarter. Even government-owned stations cannot run like public service stations because the government has asked them to become profit-oriented. It matters little whether or not a programme is injurious. What matters is the availability of sponsorship.

The ban on newspaper review programmes may have succeeded in bringing to play the Nigerian ingenuity when it comes to interpreting, manipulating and sidetracking a ban, a policy or law. It has also shown that broadcast stations would go to any extent to please sponsors. In addition to all of this, it has shown our total disregard for scientific research as a basis for individual and corporate decision-making. Just as they did not conduct any research before banning review programmes, BON and NPA will most likely not commission any research to find out if their ban has influenced newspaper readership and sales in any direction even five years after the ban. It is Nigeria.