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The tragedy of the March 7 massacre of hundreds of people in
Dogo Nahawa village in the outskirts of Jos was exacerbated by the fact that
most of the victims were children, women and the old who were killed in the
dawn raid.

It is suspected that it
was an act of reprisal allegedly carried out by Fulani herdsmen who had lost
many of their own in earlier attacks carried out by suspected Christian mob in
Kuru Karama and other conflicts in the city. The whole world has risen in
unison to condemn the barbarism that has made Nigeria another name for tragedy.
Jos has thus become one of the most dangerous places to live in the country.

On Monday last week, the spokesman of the Force Headquarters
Emmanuel Ojukwu said, “Forty-one of the suspects are to be charged with terrorism
and culpable homicide, which are punishable by death.”

The arrests have continued and more suspects are still being
apprehended. Some of those who have been arrested have been paraded By the
Plateau State Command of the Nigeria Police in Josand made to answer questions.
A few days after the riots some of the suspects were said to have confessed
that they were sponsored. The names of their sponsors are yet to be made public
by the police. But as these things go that may be the last we hear of it.

Most of the suspects may never be brought to any courtroom and
the case may just be kept under wraps until tension cools down.

It is our view that these confessions should not be hushed up.
The truth or otherwise must be unravelled. The cycle of bloodletting under the
cloak of religion or ethnicity that has swept through the city of Jos in the
last ten years must be brought to an end.

The March massacres occurred while the panel raised by the
federal government to probe the December 2008 riots headed by a retired Army
General, Emmanuel Abisoye was still sitting. Another panel raised by the state
government on the same matter and headed by Bola Ajibola a former minister of
justice had submitted its report late last year and the white paper by the
state government was being awaited.

What this adds up to is two years, two panels, amid a continuing
cycle of violence and no white paper to indicate government’s preparedness at
state or federal level to get a handle on things.

The fact that this happened should have shown the governments
concerned -federal and state – that the era of solving problems by raising
panels of enquiries is past. What, to our mind, seems to be going on in Jos
calls to mind the situation that was dramatised by the late playwright Ola
Rotimi in his play titled Holding Talks.

In that play, at a
barber’s shop a man fell down and while he was dying and in need of urgent
medical attention, useless arguments ensued as to whether his hand was shaking
before he fell down or not.

The case in Jos could be likened to this, while the federal and
state governments continued to raise panels to probe the killings the culprits
are allowed to go scot free and retreat after every attack to regroup and plan
more deadly onslaughts.

The 162 suspects who are soon to be arraigned in court as
disclosed by Mr. Ojukwu should not be allowed to go free if they are confirmed
to have participated in the senseless mayhem. Similar arrests in the past have
not resulted in conclusive prosecutions either because the alleged culprits were
sponsored by well connected individuals or groups or because there was no
follow through with prosecution.

In fact, a few days before the Dogo Nahawa massacre, the Plateau
State Governor, Jonah Jang had complained that all those arrested during the
November riots and taken to Abuja had been released quietly. No one has so far
contradicted the governor’s claim.

Let us state here and now that the new suspects must not be
allowed to go the same way because if criminals go unpunished the society is
the loser.

The only way to put a final stop to this murderous cycle is to
allow those found guilty to face the full wrath of the law, or else….

No, Nigeria cannot afford to go the other way.

I was speaking to some friends recently and they pointed me to
some online debates among Nigerians who “refused to believe” that there are 250
ethno-linguistic groups in Nigeria. Even those that concede there are 250
ethnic groups in Nigeria do not realise that a great many of those 250 are in
the north.

There is a tendency among southern Nigerians to ignorantly refer
to any northerner as “Hausa”.

The recent furore regarding the Jos murders, General Domkat Bali
and Major-General Saleh Maina (GOC of the army’s 3rd armoured division in Jos)
is a case in point. There has been an explosive debate with many Christians,
middle belters and southerners accusing Maina of pro Fulani bias because he is
“Hausa-Fulani”.

The ignorance surrounding the furore is palpable, because Maina
is NOT Hausa or Fulani. He is Kanuri, but has fallen victim to the generic
mindset of “every northerner is Hausa”. Many southern Nigerians ignorantly
label Nigeria’s past northern leaders like Abacha, Babangida, and Abubakar as
“Hausa” when in fact NONE of these men was or is Hausa. I am sure that many are
also unaware that Nigeria’s Senate President David Mark (i.e. citizen no. 3 in
Nigeria) is from the Idoma ethnic group in the middle belt.

The Maina/Bali controversy is not the topic of this article. I
hope our Nigerian and friends from other countries reading this will be
enlightened by the diversity in their own country – especially in the north. A
few sobering statistics (I know some of you do not like stats, but I cannot
help it right now):

The Koma and all those “Minorities” 1) About 700-800 languages
are spoken in Nigeria and Cameroon alone. Two countries with less than 1% of
the world’s population speak over 10% of ALL languages in the world.

2) Which is the most linguistically diverse region in Nigeria?
The North. Many do not realise that there are states in Nigeria where one
encounters different ethnic groups/languages as one moves from one town to the
next. Some groups like the “Big Three”, the Tiv, Kanuri and Ijaw number in the
millions.

However, others are in the mere thousands and are so obscure that
the federal government might not even be aware of their existence.

3) States like Adamawa, Bauchi, Plateau and Taraba are reputed to
have over 50 (yes, I said FIFTY) ethnic groups EACH.

4) Who reading this has nostalgic memories of the Koma people?
With approximately 50,000 people, this was the ethnic group that remained
“undiscovered” in the mountainous highland area to the northeast, living a
naked Pagan lifestyle up in the mountains with no interaction with modern
society. There were “discovered” in 1986 during the administration of Colonel
Yohanna Madaki – then Military Governor of Gongola State. Early missionaries
who tried to convert them had to go naked so as not to make them feel
uncomfortable around clothed strangers.

Christians North, Muslim
South

A few days ago, Libyan leader Colonel Ghaddafi advocated
splitting Nigeria between Muslims and Christians. Sounds plausible right?
Should be easy since the “north is Muslim and south is Christian”? Wrong.

The Muslim north/Christian south discourse has been a massive
myth for decades. Some northern states likeKaduna, and southern states like Oyo
have mixed Muslim and Christian populations. Let’s not even mention Kwara
State.

Aside from having sizeable Christian and Muslim populations, no
one can even agree whether it is in the north or south! Ask anyone about the
far northwestern corner of Nigeria, and they are likely to think of it as the
home area of President Yar’Adua and as the area of Nigeria where Muslim Sharia
law started. Zamfara State in the far northwest was the first Nigerian state to
adopt Sharia law when Ahmed Sani was governor.

Yet right next door the first footsteps of Sharia in Nigeria,
there is an indigenous Christian minority ethnic group. Who remembers Colonel
Dauda Musa Komo – former Military Governor of Rivers State and nemesis of Ken
Saro-Wiwa? Komo, and other famous individuals like Sani Sami,

Ishaya Bamaiyi and Tanko Ayuba are from the minority Zuru
Christian area in what is now Kebbi State.

Nigerians are unaware of the diversity in their own country
because many do not have experience of interaction with the numerically smaller
ethnicities. Most Nigerians who travel outside their home areas do so to get to
big cities like Abuja and Lagos. It is rare (except for NYSC) to find Nigerians
living in the rural/local parts outside their home area.

Nigeria – Earth’s Tower of Babel Nigeria is Earth’s answer to the
biblical Tower of Babel; a kaleidoscope of different cultures, languages and
labyrinthine diversity. Let us open our eyes and minds to the breathtaking
diversity of the area called Nigeria. Before you call that fellow across the
road an [Hausa][Fulani][Yoruba][Igbo], have a hard think, you might be
surprised at what you find out….

The times are too interesting to take certain liberties; for
instance, lazy unsophisticated Nigerian food lingua franca.

An oblong loose-skinned tomato with ribbing is a Hausa tomato. A
large green banana that never goes yellow at any stage is an Igbo banana. A small
scraggly banana with yellow and green blotches that looks like it needs to be
thrown out is a Yoruba banana. The aromatic, yellow scotch bonnet is called
Igbo pepper. A goat that stands tall, lean and shaggy is a Hausa goat.

Two weeks ago, at the peak of very primitive and treacherous
public rumours, someone told me that people were travelling all the way from
the Northern states of Nigeria in large uncovered trucks for the sole purpose
of positioning wheelbarrows of fruit in front of churches and poisoning
Southerners! “Don’t buy the oblong Hausa tomatoes because those are the ones
that have been poisoned by Northerners!”

It made writing this week’s column uncomfortable because I want
to talk freely about Nigerian bananas. We have always labelled them for where
they “come from”. Labels that are informal and jovial, silly even, yet in times
like this when our cultural differences are being emphasised for mischievous
purposes, not very cheerful or appropriate to use. I did consider phoning up
the eminent Professor Obot of Wildlife Conservation to ask for biological names
of bananas, but how wearying that would have made the whole thing.

In order to talk about bananas, I must tangentially talk about
my maternal grandfather who used to drive trains in the days of the steam
locomotive. He was called Baba Loco for that vocation. Intense, disagreeable,
extremely intelligent and a stammerer, he preferred to be left alone, a
difficult thing if you are Yoruba, and therefore one of “that people” who like
to effusively greet everything that moves.

One day, an acquaintance saw him shovelling coal into the bowels
of the train – this was what he did before graduating to driving one. He
proceeded to greet him with the words “O kare awe, yio gbe lomo lowo!” The
man’s greeting showed that he was in awe of the locomotive. It was an exuberant
“Well done Scholar, you will pass this vocation on to your children!”

My grandfather was livid. He shovelled the lumps of coal and
threw them at the man. Pass it on to his children indeed! My grandfather had
passed all the necessary exams but couldn’t go on to university because his
father, who had been wealthy but also indiscriminately polygamous couldn’t
afford to pay for him to go. It was for as long as I knew my grandfather, a
touchy point, and that man on that day had chosen the most inappropriate of
greetings.

You might well ask what my grandfather put in his six
children’s’ hands? The best education here and in foreign universities; and
food, varied, rich, lavish: delicately smoked fish from Jebba,

loaves of Shackle ford bread, poultry, beef, eggs…nothing was
too good for his children to eat. By the time his grandchildren were born, he
had nothing more to prove.

He brought us sugarcane and bananas from his farm. He brought
two types of bananas, the Latundan type banana that was vibrantly yellow,
short, fat, very sweet and not very creamy; and also the typical “Yoruba
banana” which is my absolute favourite.

And I have eaten bananas on three continents. The Yoruba banana
is only sold by one old lady in the whole of the Lekki new market and is a
scarce commodity until one reaches Lagos Island. It can be the ugliest most
dejected looking thing, the Yoruba banana. Rarely large, long, yellow or
“clean” (it always seems to have some organic matter hanging off it) but it is
beautifully creamy in texture. It is sweet but not too sweet.

The “Igbo banana” which is light green when ripe; larger in
generalised comparison; more attractive and easier to find, sold even in Lagos
traffic, has never done anything exciting for my taste buds. The word that
comes to mind whenever I eat one is “soap”.

What I am referring to as banana ice cream is neither ice cream
nor my own recipe. Health food buffs have been talking about it as an
alternative to dairy ice cream for many years. The thing is, it hits the same
cold creamy sweet spot as ice cream does. A couple of firm ripe bananas are
peeled and placed in the deep freezer until frozen.

They are brought out and
put in a blender by themselves or with a tablespoon of almond butter (I have
only found almond butter in Lagos on one occasion, so just putting them in the
blender by themselves is more realistic), or with some fresh ripe avocado. They
are blended (with great perseverance!) and eaten immediately, possibly accompanied
with a drizzle of honey, lime juice or homemade citrus biscuits.

Madam
come, see if e go size you, try now e fit size you….” This was a shoe
seller at Balogun Market enticing me to take a seat in his tiny shed
and try on a pair which he proceeded to place on the ground over a
carefully spread sheet of paper to protect his inventory from the dirt
of Lagos. It is a novel concept is it not? This idea that the shoe has
in some way to conform to your perfect foot. It has to fit you, not the
other way round.

This is almost as
plaintive as that other typical Nigerian construction. “I came to your
house the other day, but I met your absence.” There is something so
poetic about the sound of that. It conveys in such a dignified way the
regret at not finding you home, without suggesting any remission on your
part for not being there.

In the same vein
comes: “How is your mother, say me well to her when you see her.” This
could mean speak well of me to her, but the real import is give her my
good tidings and that is so much more than say hello to her or greet her
for me.

Then there are those
constructions that we have seized on and sized to fit our usage. We
have an intermittent relationship with electric power, and exercise
whatever control we can by ‘oning’ it and offing it, with a vengeance.
Nothing so genteel as switch it off or turn it on, we dispense with all
protocol and off it or on it, snatching those brief opportunities we
have to do so.

Likewise, or should I
say, in this wise, we get to the kernel of the issue. Why else would
one sit around cracking palm nuts? The British coined the phrase, To be
forewarned is to be forearmed, whereas, we just know that to be for war
is to be for army. Finish. Case closed! Think before you enlist.

Not to put too fine a
point on it, Lagos is a city where traffic takes such a toll on our
time there is little left for other things. Subsequently getting to the
point quickly and efficiently is an important part of any discourse. You
want that goat leg cut into pieces? Don’t confuse the butcher, just ask
him to “pieces it”. Much quicker; three words versus two.

Driving along Broad
Street many years ago, and searching in vain for a parking spot, my
father pointed to what he thought looked like an available space, but
the driver knew better. “Oga there is no true fare there,” he
volunteered. Of course he was right. It was supposed to be a
thoroughfare but the Lagos municipality in its infinite wisdom had
blocked the road off with giant cement boulders. There truly was no way
for a car to get through to that tempting parking space.

And while we are on
the subject of driving and looking for destinations, there is nothing so
taxing as trying to find an address in a country that is still very
much a work in progress, a construction consistently under different
management, plans incomplete, or new wings abandoned: this house in not
for sale! So there is this story of asking for directions somewhere in
the middle of a busy metropolis, just about mid south of anywhere in
this blessed land…

“E dey for alon.”
“Which side for alon?” “Dhown.” “Which side for dhown?” “Dhown,

dhown.” Believe it
or not this is clearer than asking about an address and being told to
drive “two poles.” What in the name of sweet tombo is a pole?

Ours is a society
with such a multiplicity of cultures that we have honed the ability to
convey a world of meaning with the simple, curt, phrase. A good and
homely wife, anxious to fulfil her maternal instincts and envelop her
home with the sound of many children’s voices, literally drags her
abstemious spouse to her gynaecologist because he won’t ‘do’ to her
satisfaction. The embarrassed man offers this one explanation to the
doctor’s gentle enquiry.

“I am tinkin.”
Determined not to let the issue die the wife counters:

“You are tinkin?
What are you tinkin?” This is akin to that example of Lagos road rage,
“What are you driving?” which has nothing to do with the make of the
car.

What indeed.

Now if this were a
case of, “I am reading,” all Madam Missis would have to do would be to
off the light and proceed to pieces the whole argument.

The tragedy of the March 7 massacre of hundreds of people in
Dogo Nahawa village in the outskirts of Jos was exacerbated by the fact that
most of the victims were children, women and the old who were killed in the
dawn raid.

It is suspected that it
was an act of reprisal allegedly carried out by Fulani herdsmen who had lost
many of their own in earlier attacks carried out by suspected Christian mob in
Kuru Karama and other conflicts in the city. The whole world has risen in
unison to condemn the barbarism that has made Nigeria another name for tragedy.
Jos has thus become one of the most dangerous places to live in the country.

On Monday last week, the spokesman of the Force Headquarters
Emmanuel Ojukwu said, “Forty-one of the suspects are to be charged with terrorism
and culpable homicide, which are punishable by death.”

The arrests have continued and more suspects are still being
apprehended. Some of those who have been arrested have been paraded By the
Plateau State Command of the Nigeria Police in Josand made to answer questions.
A few days after the riots some of the suspects were said to have confessed
that they were sponsored. The names of their sponsors are yet to be made public
by the police. But as these things go that may be the last we hear of it.

Most of the suspects may never be brought to any courtroom and
the case may just be kept under wraps until tension cools down.

It is our view that these confessions should not be hushed up.
The truth or otherwise must be unravelled. The cycle of bloodletting under the
cloak of religion or ethnicity that has swept through the city of Jos in the
last ten years must be brought to an end.

The March massacres occurred while the panel raised by the
federal government to probe the December 2008 riots headed by a retired Army
General, Emmanuel Abisoye was still sitting. Another panel raised by the state
government on the same matter and headed by Bola Ajibola a former minister of
justice had submitted its report late last year and the white paper by the
state government was being awaited.

What this adds up to is two years, two panels, amid a continuing
cycle of violence and no white paper to indicate government’s preparedness at
state or federal level to get a handle on things.

The fact that this happened should have shown the governments
concerned -federal and state – that the era of solving problems by raising
panels of enquiries is past. What, to our mind, seems to be going on in Jos
calls to mind the situation that was dramatised by the late playwright Ola
Rotimi in his play titled Holding Talks.

In that play, at a
barber’s shop a man fell down and while he was dying and in need of urgent
medical attention, useless arguments ensued as to whether his hand was shaking
before he fell down or not.

The case in Jos could be likened to this, while the federal and
state governments continued to raise panels to probe the killings the culprits
are allowed to go scot free and retreat after every attack to regroup and plan
more deadly onslaughts.

The 162 suspects who are soon to be arraigned in court as
disclosed by Mr. Ojukwu should not be allowed to go free if they are confirmed
to have participated in the senseless mayhem. Similar arrests in the past have
not resulted in conclusive prosecutions either because the alleged culprits were
sponsored by well connected individuals or groups or because there was no
follow through with prosecution.

In fact, a few days before the Dogo Nahawa massacre, the Plateau
State Governor, Jonah Jang had complained that all those arrested during the
November riots and taken to Abuja had been released quietly. No one has so far
contradicted the governor’s claim.

Let us state here and now that the new suspects must not be
allowed to go the same way because if criminals go unpunished the society is
the loser.

The only way to put a final stop to this murderous cycle is to
allow those found guilty to face the full wrath of the law, or else….

No, Nigeria cannot afford to go the other way.

Oga me, you dey
dia? Help me thank God Jehovah Almighty Jah o, wey nor let shame catch Zazu
Katelmega of Congo Brazzaville via Saudi Arabia to Abuja o.

Zazu my guy, nothing
do you. Na you biko..shege Zazu, dan buroba Zazu! Nack me gist abeg. My ears
dey burn for good news since wey this Lagos weather nor let man see road. Dem
don cut for you from the national cake abi dem don submit your name for mini-star
position?

Oga why you dey
talk like this, nor be me Zazu Katelmega dey submit people name to Active Presido. I dey kankpe jor. Congratulate
me, I don comot for Camp of No Action finally.

Which one be
that again, na everyday you dey come with new one.

I don comot for
Baba Go Slow camp. Na yesterday I resume my new duty for Goodluck side. I nor
fit tanda dey watch motor wey nor dey move and dey listen to cabalious complain.
Everyday na im fallen cabal dey come wail for madam, like say madam na Wailing
Wall for Israel abi where that wall dey sef. I never see beggy beggy men before
like this cabal people. The time wey dem think say na dem be god for Saudi
Arabia to Abuja, I nor see any of them cry like this o. Now wey God don dey
butter Zazu bread and im real man, Dr. Jonathan Ebele Esangbedo Osenobua-obulu Nigeria-onibaje
Goodluck, don enter throne na im dem wan come begin cry like small pikin wey im
rice throway. Abeg make dem carry go.

So you mean say
none of the ex-cabal go smell Goodluck government?

Oga paper wey
dem take clean yansh, dem dey take am wrap akara? Abi you don hear where man
cook pounded yam and okporoko-ogbono soup for person wey thief im wife? Small
pikin wey climb tree dey abuse im papa don forget say im go must come down
today. No, none of them wey disrespect my able chairman go smell Villa, as long
as me Zazu Katelmega remain the new CSO to Active Presido.

Ewooo…Jesus
Christ saviorize and baptize me in River Niger o! Zazu, dem don make you Chief
Security Officer?

Gbam! At once,
with alacrity na im dem gusau me into the position. Na so Villa dey shake since.
Abeg after make you help me thank aunty Patient o. That woman na able leader,
Mama P – P for prosperity, P for the people, P for power, P for Petroleum, P
for President, P for …

Eh eh Zazu e don do. Na so you first hail the other madam
so tey her head come swell pass gele, come begin take us do yeye. Abeg take am
easy with this new position wey you get so.

Ok Oga, I hear,
but helep me thank God o. This new regime dey sweet me too much. As I kak for
my new office na so people from all over the country dey come fill our office
like say na rag day for university. All of them dey beg – make my brother
minister, make my uncle minister, make my pikin SA, make my party member PA,
market nor be like that o. Na so oga Active Presido go just dey look them zooooo,
like fly wey enter man pikin palmwine glass. Im go just dey shake head. When
dem comot, im go call me and General…

Zazu who be
general?

General Gusau na,
haba! Anywho, na so AP go ask us wetin we think about the people. Na so General
go take head nod me make I use my special talent. My work na to reveal all
their secrets and wetin dem tell my former madam for Saudi Arabia. I go tell
oga say, nor mind that thief or nor mind that liar…na double agent or na
Man-must-wack im be. Na so AP go just put bad for the name with red biro like
headmaster wey dey mark arithmetic.

But Zazu, nor be
bad thing be this so? This people wey trust you before, now you dey reveal dem
secret wey go make dem nor be minister.

Oga nor be me
kill wetin dey smell o. Shebi we want make this country move forward? Me I don
tire to dey waka like snail. But sha o, if you see any ogbonge man wey fit sunction
something to close my mouth I go chill small.

So you want take
bribe Zazu?

Oga na the habit
wey I learn for the other side o. Abi you get any medicine wey go cure am for
me?

But you know say
oga Goodluck and Aunty Paypay nor like bribery?

Hahahahehehehahhaha-
Oga this na the thing wey I dey warn you put, the thing wey your eye nor see
nor dey talk am.

Ok, I understand
sha. So who dey the list?

I go holla you
tomorrow. Madam original parrot don enter our office. Make I hear the kain yarn
wey she go yarn now, so that I go nack NAFDAC number put for oga Active Presido.

Ok, goodnight
Zazu.

(Woman’s Voice)
But your Excellency, you know I was the only one that spoke out when others
were shilly-shallying – you can’t do
this to me, I have to have something meaningful for all the work I did for you…

I was speaking to some friends recently and they pointed me to
some online debates among Nigerians who “refused to believe” that there are 250
ethno-linguistic groups in Nigeria. Even those that concede there are 250
ethnic groups in Nigeria do not realise that a great many of those 250 are in
the north.

There is a tendency among southern Nigerians to ignorantly refer
to any northerner as “Hausa”.

The recent furore regarding the Jos murders, General Domkat Bali
and Major-General Saleh Maina (GOC of the army’s 3rd armoured division in Jos)
is a case in point. There has been an explosive debate with many Christians,
middle belters and southerners accusing Maina of pro Fulani bias because he is
“Hausa-Fulani”.

The ignorance surrounding the furore is palpable, because Maina
is NOT Hausa or Fulani. He is Kanuri, but has fallen victim to the generic
mindset of “every northerner is Hausa”. Many southern Nigerians ignorantly
label Nigeria’s past northern leaders like Abacha, Babangida, and Abubakar as
“Hausa” when in fact NONE of these men was or is Hausa. I am sure that many are
also unaware that Nigeria’s Senate President David Mark (i.e. citizen no. 3 in
Nigeria) is from the Idoma ethnic group in the middle belt.

The Maina/Bali controversy is not the topic of this article. I
hope our Nigerian and friends from other countries reading this will be
enlightened by the diversity in their own country – especially in the north. A
few sobering statistics (I know some of you do not like stats, but I cannot
help it right now):

The Koma and all those “Minorities” 1) About 700-800 languages
are spoken in Nigeria and Cameroon alone. Two countries with less than 1% of
the world’s population speak over 10% of ALL languages in the world.

2) Which is the most linguistically diverse region in Nigeria?
The North. Many do not realise that there are states in Nigeria where one
encounters different ethnic groups/languages as one moves from one town to the
next. Some groups like the “Big Three”, the Tiv, Kanuri and Ijaw number in the
millions.

However, others are in the mere thousands and are so obscure that
the federal government might not even be aware of their existence.

3) States like Adamawa, Bauchi, Plateau and Taraba are reputed to
have over 50 (yes, I said FIFTY) ethnic groups EACH.

4) Who reading this has nostalgic memories of the Koma people?
With approximately 50,000 people, this was the ethnic group that remained
“undiscovered” in the mountainous highland area to the northeast, living a
naked Pagan lifestyle up in the mountains with no interaction with modern
society. There were “discovered” in 1986 during the administration of Colonel
Yohanna Madaki – then Military Governor of Gongola State. Early missionaries
who tried to convert them had to go naked so as not to make them feel
uncomfortable around clothed strangers.

Christians North, Muslim
South

A few days ago, Libyan leader Colonel Ghaddafi advocated
splitting Nigeria between Muslims and Christians. Sounds plausible right?
Should be easy since the “north is Muslim and south is Christian”? Wrong.

The Muslim north/Christian south discourse has been a massive
myth for decades. Some northern states likeKaduna, and southern states like Oyo
have mixed Muslim and Christian populations. Let’s not even mention Kwara
State.

Aside from having sizeable Christian and Muslim populations, no
one can even agree whether it is in the north or south! Ask anyone about the
far northwestern corner of Nigeria, and they are likely to think of it as the
home area of President Yar’Adua and as the area of Nigeria where Muslim Sharia
law started. Zamfara State in the far northwest was the first Nigerian state to
adopt Sharia law when Ahmed Sani was governor.

Yet right next door the first footsteps of Sharia in Nigeria,
there is an indigenous Christian minority ethnic group. Who remembers Colonel
Dauda Musa Komo – former Military Governor of Rivers State and nemesis of Ken
Saro-Wiwa? Komo, and other famous individuals like Sani Sami,

Ishaya Bamaiyi and Tanko Ayuba are from the minority Zuru
Christian area in what is now Kebbi State.

Nigerians are unaware of the diversity in their own country
because many do not have experience of interaction with the numerically smaller
ethnicities. Most Nigerians who travel outside their home areas do so to get to
big cities like Abuja and Lagos. It is rare (except for NYSC) to find Nigerians
living in the rural/local parts outside their home area.

Nigeria – Earth’s Tower of Babel Nigeria is Earth’s answer to the
biblical Tower of Babel; a kaleidoscope of different cultures, languages and
labyrinthine diversity. Let us open our eyes and minds to the breathtaking
diversity of the area called Nigeria. Before you call that fellow across the
road an [Hausa][Fulani][Yoruba][Igbo], have a hard think, you might be
surprised at what you find out….

The times are too interesting to take certain liberties; for
instance, lazy unsophisticated Nigerian food lingua franca.

An oblong loose-skinned tomato with ribbing is a Hausa tomato. A
large green banana that never goes yellow at any stage is an Igbo banana. A small
scraggly banana with yellow and green blotches that looks like it needs to be
thrown out is a Yoruba banana. The aromatic, yellow scotch bonnet is called
Igbo pepper. A goat that stands tall, lean and shaggy is a Hausa goat.

Two weeks ago, at the peak of very primitive and treacherous
public rumours, someone told me that people were travelling all the way from
the Northern states of Nigeria in large uncovered trucks for the sole purpose
of positioning wheelbarrows of fruit in front of churches and poisoning
Southerners! “Don’t buy the oblong Hausa tomatoes because those are the ones
that have been poisoned by Northerners!”

It made writing this week’s column uncomfortable because I want
to talk freely about Nigerian bananas. We have always labelled them for where
they “come from”. Labels that are informal and jovial, silly even, yet in times
like this when our cultural differences are being emphasised for mischievous
purposes, not very cheerful or appropriate to use. I did consider phoning up
the eminent Professor Obot of Wildlife Conservation to ask for biological names
of bananas, but how wearying that would have made the whole thing.

In order to talk about bananas, I must tangentially talk about
my maternal grandfather who used to drive trains in the days of the steam
locomotive. He was called Baba Loco for that vocation. Intense, disagreeable,
extremely intelligent and a stammerer, he preferred to be left alone, a
difficult thing if you are Yoruba, and therefore one of “that people” who like
to effusively greet everything that moves.

One day, an acquaintance saw him shovelling coal into the bowels
of the train – this was what he did before graduating to driving one. He
proceeded to greet him with the words “O kare awe, yio gbe lomo lowo!” The
man’s greeting showed that he was in awe of the locomotive. It was an exuberant
“Well done Scholar, you will pass this vocation on to your children!”

My grandfather was livid. He shovelled the lumps of coal and
threw them at the man. Pass it on to his children indeed! My grandfather had
passed all the necessary exams but couldn’t go on to university because his
father, who had been wealthy but also indiscriminately polygamous couldn’t
afford to pay for him to go. It was for as long as I knew my grandfather, a
touchy point, and that man on that day had chosen the most inappropriate of
greetings.

You might well ask what my grandfather put in his six
children’s’ hands? The best education here and in foreign universities; and
food, varied, rich, lavish: delicately smoked fish from Jebba,

loaves of Shackle ford bread, poultry, beef, eggs…nothing was
too good for his children to eat. By the time his grandchildren were born, he
had nothing more to prove.

He brought us sugarcane and bananas from his farm. He brought
two types of bananas, the Latundan type banana that was vibrantly yellow,
short, fat, very sweet and not very creamy; and also the typical “Yoruba
banana” which is my absolute favourite.

And I have eaten bananas on three continents. The Yoruba banana
is only sold by one old lady in the whole of the Lekki new market and is a
scarce commodity until one reaches Lagos Island. It can be the ugliest most
dejected looking thing, the Yoruba banana. Rarely large, long, yellow or
“clean” (it always seems to have some organic matter hanging off it) but it is
beautifully creamy in texture. It is sweet but not too sweet.

The “Igbo banana” which is light green when ripe; larger in
generalised comparison; more attractive and easier to find, sold even in Lagos
traffic, has never done anything exciting for my taste buds. The word that
comes to mind whenever I eat one is “soap”.

What I am referring to as banana ice cream is neither ice cream
nor my own recipe. Health food buffs have been talking about it as an
alternative to dairy ice cream for many years. The thing is, it hits the same
cold creamy sweet spot as ice cream does. A couple of firm ripe bananas are
peeled and placed in the deep freezer until frozen.

They are brought out and
put in a blender by themselves or with a tablespoon of almond butter (I have
only found almond butter in Lagos on one occasion, so just putting them in the
blender by themselves is more realistic), or with some fresh ripe avocado. They
are blended (with great perseverance!) and eaten immediately, possibly accompanied
with a drizzle of honey, lime juice or homemade citrus biscuits.

Madam
come, see if e go size you, try now e fit size you….” This was a shoe
seller at Balogun Market enticing me to take a seat in his tiny shed
and try on a pair which he proceeded to place on the ground over a
carefully spread sheet of paper to protect his inventory from the dirt
of Lagos. It is a novel concept is it not? This idea that the shoe has
in some way to conform to your perfect foot. It has to fit you, not the
other way round.

This is almost as
plaintive as that other typical Nigerian construction. “I came to your
house the other day, but I met your absence.” There is something so
poetic about the sound of that. It conveys in such a dignified way the
regret at not finding you home, without suggesting any remission on your
part for not being there.

In the same vein
comes: “How is your mother, say me well to her when you see her.” This
could mean speak well of me to her, but the real import is give her my
good tidings and that is so much more than say hello to her or greet her
for me.

Then there are those
constructions that we have seized on and sized to fit our usage. We
have an intermittent relationship with electric power, and exercise
whatever control we can by ‘oning’ it and offing it, with a vengeance.
Nothing so genteel as switch it off or turn it on, we dispense with all
protocol and off it or on it, snatching those brief opportunities we
have to do so.

Likewise, or should I
say, in this wise, we get to the kernel of the issue. Why else would
one sit around cracking palm nuts? The British coined the phrase, To be
forewarned is to be forearmed, whereas, we just know that to be for war
is to be for army. Finish. Case closed! Think before you enlist.

Not to put too fine a
point on it, Lagos is a city where traffic takes such a toll on our
time there is little left for other things. Subsequently getting to the
point quickly and efficiently is an important part of any discourse. You
want that goat leg cut into pieces? Don’t confuse the butcher, just ask
him to “pieces it”. Much quicker; three words versus two.

Driving along Broad
Street many years ago, and searching in vain for a parking spot, my
father pointed to what he thought looked like an available space, but
the driver knew better. “Oga there is no true fare there,” he
volunteered. Of course he was right. It was supposed to be a
thoroughfare but the Lagos municipality in its infinite wisdom had
blocked the road off with giant cement boulders. There truly was no way
for a car to get through to that tempting parking space.

And while we are on
the subject of driving and looking for destinations, there is nothing so
taxing as trying to find an address in a country that is still very
much a work in progress, a construction consistently under different
management, plans incomplete, or new wings abandoned: this house in not
for sale! So there is this story of asking for directions somewhere in
the middle of a busy metropolis, just about mid south of anywhere in
this blessed land…

“E dey for alon.”
“Which side for alon?” “Dhown.” “Which side for dhown?” “Dhown,

dhown.” Believe it
or not this is clearer than asking about an address and being told to
drive “two poles.” What in the name of sweet tombo is a pole?

Ours is a society
with such a multiplicity of cultures that we have honed the ability to
convey a world of meaning with the simple, curt, phrase. A good and
homely wife, anxious to fulfil her maternal instincts and envelop her
home with the sound of many children’s voices, literally drags her
abstemious spouse to her gynaecologist because he won’t ‘do’ to her
satisfaction. The embarrassed man offers this one explanation to the
doctor’s gentle enquiry.

“I am tinkin.”
Determined not to let the issue die the wife counters:

“You are tinkin?
What are you tinkin?” This is akin to that example of Lagos road rage,
“What are you driving?” which has nothing to do with the make of the
car.

What indeed.

Now if this were a
case of, “I am reading,” all Madam Missis would have to do would be to
off the light and proceed to pieces the whole argument.