Opinion
Upclose With Rex Lawson
“A prophet is not without honour, but in his own country, and among his own kin, and in his own house.” (Mark, 6:4)
The story of Rex and I eloquently captures the essence of this
biblical statement by Jesus, the Man from Galilee.
I was cofounder and bassist of The Blackstones, which is the first rock band formed in Rivers State after the Civil War. Rex and I lived and performed in the core of Port Harcourt Township. Rex lived at No. 35 Aggrey Road by Sokoto Street and The Blackstones lived at No. 33. Ludo Nite Club was located at Hospital Road by Sokoto Street and Hilsom Inn sat at Bernard Carr Street by Sokoto Street.
Rex was the undisputed global king of the highlife genre and I was a provincial personification of rock music. At the time, rock music with its earthy and heavy underground sound had evolved from pop and was sufficiently threatening the continued existence of highlife with extinction. This was a by-product of the widely prevalent colonial mentality syndrome (colomentasyn), which placed high premium on any and everything foreign over homegrown alternatives, especially amongst the youth. This struggle for social spotlight was exacerbated by the fact that Berepele Davies, a dashing gentleman from Bakana and publisher of Flash Magazine, put my photograph (with my bass guitar in hand) on the cover of the magazine for six months; at the time, Flash was one of the only two monthly magazines in Nigeria. Beyond the difference in music, I was a teetotaler while Rex smoked the biggest wrap of weed I ever saw and could empty a bottle of gin in one fell swoop straight from the bottle. So, we were dealing with the dual difference of music genre and lifestyle. I must confess, we were on common grounds regarding the Third W, if you know what I mean.
That was the setting when Rex had the contract to tour England. With the advent bass guitar venturing into the highlife genre in place of the fiddle bass, Rex sent Francis Oviebo, his alto saxophonist, to poach me from The Blackstones for the trip. While the prospect of travelling to Europe had a compelling allure for me, I could not imagine being a bassist in a highlife band; so, I turned down the offer.
Rex returned from the tour with only three of the nine members of his band. Without a band of his own, Rex showed up during one of our gigs at Romeo Star Hotel on Victoria Street, Port Harcourt and requested to perform with us. He spotted a two-piece deep brown velvet safari suit that complimented his colour and his radiantly glowing skin. Irrespective of the contagious sociability and superimposing personality he exuded, I objected to his proposition but was out-voted by the other members of the band. So it came to pass that the first post-British tour public performance of Rex Lawson was with The Blackstones.
Shortly into the performance, Amakiri Photos came to take pictures of us and I moved off the camera-way to avoid being captured in a photo with Rex. However, the camera caught the machine head of my Egmond bass guitar. At the end of the show, Rex requested a group photograph with the band and I refused to be part of it. Peter Brown, Gee Richards, Tammy Evans, Sam Mathews and Johnnie Fibbs, our manager, joined him. That photograph is on page 12b of Cardinal Rex Jim Lawson: The Legend by Sopriala Hutchinson Bobmanuel. This sums up the silent rift between Rex and I before his demise.
As a result of family and societal pressure and the general perception of musicians as school dropouts and ne’er do wells, Peter Brown (lead guitar/keyboards), Gee Richards (rhythm guitar) and I decided to go back to school; this decision was buoyed by the liberal education policy of Governor Alfred Diete-Spiff. Resultantly, Peter Brown went to Manchester University to study Metallurgy, Gee Richards went to Buckingham University to study Law and I enrolled at Murray State University (MSU), Murray, Kentucky, USA to study Radio/TV Broadcasting.
In August 1974, Emmanuel “Iyo” Atonkiri Dokubo (King Emmanuel Dokubo-Spiff, now a traditional ruler) brought an album of Rex to MSU preparatory for Fall Semester 1974. During Christmas break, I was assigned to manage the university Radio/TV station, WKMS, during the break. In the US tradition of hands-on education, I opened, managed and closed the station every day for two weeks. In the early hours of one morning, I played Rex Lawson’s So Ala Temem on WKMS. Shortly thereafter, my head of department, Professor Bob Howard, stormed out of the elevators at the 11th floor of Nathan Stubblefield Building that housed my department. His questions and exclamations reflected a combination of fear and fury. Howard reminded me of the regulations of Federal Communications Commission (FCC), which stipulates that no record of foreign language be played on US radio stations.
On the first day of class the next semester, Howard brought up the issue in class and emphasized the need for students to obey FCC rules. Just as he was about to go into the business of the day, a student requested the privilege of listening to the music in African language. Other students echoed the view and I was asked to bring the record on the next day of class.
On D-Day, I brought the album and Howard brought a turntable. I was asked to introduce the song; so I talked about the highlife genre, its predominance in the West African music scene of yesteryears and its waning popularity, especially amongst the youth given the potent threat from rock. I also discussed the dominance of Rex in the artform especially his being crowned King of Highlife and the fact that he and I come from the same State and I played with him. Thereafter, So Ala Temem was played and, at the request of the students, it was encored three times. Then the reactions followed.
One after the other, the students discussed the song: the sonority of the velvet-smooth voice, the uncanny combination of lamentation and supplication in the delivery of the vocals; the balanced sound engineering; the brevity of the song, which they considered unfortunate and the tightness of the music with one instrument ushering in another in a perfectly coordinated orchestration etc. I folded my arms in total awe. “All these about Rex?” I soliloquized. Thereafter, I spent many days listening to Akaso Inyingi, Berebote, Ibinabo, Suzana Pango (with the compelling tenor saxophone intro by Tony Obs), Sobebo Ibina, Mekine Wabote, Ayemuba Udeaja and, of course, So Ala Temem, which reconciled Rex and I, albeit post-humously. Listening to these songs, I heard the music of Rex from the perspective of the comments of my classmates. Jesus was right; Rex was without honour in his country, amongst his kin and in his home.
Ever since, I became an avid disciple of Cardinal Rex Lawson. He was a master of spontaneity, which yields the best in creativity. As a conscience-mending conciliatory gesture, I have published tributes to him in Thisday, Guardian, The Tide etc every January since I returned. Rex deserves to be honoured with a heroic epic movie, which will burn his legend into the psyche of the youth with special reference to the productive potency of focus and tenacity in one’s chosen field of endeavor.
Adieu, Erekosima
Dr. Osai is an Associate Professor at the Rivers State University, Port Harcourt.
Continue Reading
Quote:”Noise pollution is not merely an inconvenience; it is a silent threat to health, dignity, and the right of every Nigerian to live in peace. Worship should uplift the soul, not assault the ears.”
The viral video of former Abia State Commissioner for Local Government and Chieftaincy Affairs, Mr. Charles Ogbonna, chasing worshippers out of a worship center in Ibeku, Umuahia, with a cutlass sparked widespread outrage—and understandably so. No citizen, regardless of provocation, has the right to threaten others with a weapon. Such behavior is unacceptable in a civilized society and must be condemned. Yet outrage alone does not capture the full picture. Reports indicate that Mr. Ogbonna acted after enduring prolonged and excessive noise from the Umuobasi Town Hall, allegedly used for religious activities, which made life unbearable for residents. A resident, Chinedu, told journalists that the former commissioner stormed the hall around 1 a.m., after hours of blaring noise deprived people of sleep. While self-help was the wrong approach—he should have reported the matter to authorities—this incident highlights a deeper problem:
Nigeria’s culture of unchecked noise pollution and the failure of authorities to protect citizens’ right to peace, rest, and a healthy environment. When legitimate complaints are ignored, frustration builds—sometimes with dangerous consequences. Noise pollution in Nigeria is pervasive. Worship centers, commercial activities, motor parks, roadside traders, and private generators create an environment of relentless noise. So normalized is this that many Nigerians feel powerless to act. This culture of indifference—trampling on the right to quiet in the name of worship, celebration, or business—must end. Noise is not a minor inconvenience. It is a serious environmental and public health hazard. Medical experts warn that prolonged exposure to excessive noise can cause hearing loss, hypertension, cardiovascular disease, sleep disorders, anxiety, and other psychological conditions
. The British Medical Bulletin notes that constant noise triggers stress responses that may lead to illness. Sleep deprivation—a common consequence—reduces productivity, undermines emotional stability, and worsens overall wellbeing. In a country already struggling with health challenges, noise pollution quietly compounds the problem. So what are Nigerian authorities doing? The truth is: the laws exist but enforcement is weak. Section 22 of the National Environmental Standards and Regulations Enforcement Agency (NESREA) Act, 2007 empowers NESREA to regulate noise from industrial, commercial, domestic, recreational, and transport sources. Violations can attract fines or imprisonment. Likewise, the National Environmental (Noise Standards and Control) Regulations, 2009 clearly define permissible noise levels across residential, commercial, and industrial zones.
The problem is not the absence of laws—it is the absence of will. Many citizens are unaware of their rights or where to report violations. Regulatory agencies are often underfunded, poorly equipped, and hesitant to act, particularly when influential religious or commercial interests are involved. The Umuahia incident is a textbook example of institutional failure: when lawful channels fail repeatedly, some individuals take the law into their own hands. Enforcement must be firm, consistent, and impartial. Environmental agencies need funding, modern noise-monitoring equipment, and trained personnel capable of responding swiftly. Laws must apply to all—churches, mosques, clubs, hotels, and individuals alike. There have been rare instances of decisive action. A decade ago, the Lagos State Government sealed 53 churches, mosques, and hotels for noise violations, following complaints from residents.
In October 2025, Lagos again sealed several establishments over excessive noise. Yet, such crackdowns are often temporary. Churches and mosques continue to dominate neighborhoods with blaring loudspeakers, making sleep a luxury during week-long vigils or pre-dawn sermons. For the elderly, the sick, and those who work long hours, this is more than an annoyance—it is harmful. Compared to many developed countries, Nigeria’s situation is embarrassing. Elsewhere, worship is associated with calm, reflection, and serenity. Noise levels are strictly regulated, and places of worship are often soundproofed. The question arises: is God in Nigeria hard of hearing, or has shouting simply become the default mode of expression?The rapid proliferation of worship centers has worsened the problem. Many spring up indiscriminately in high-density areas, markets, and private compounds, with little regard for zoning laws or environmental standards.
This neglect undermines productivity, social harmony, and quality of life. Noise pollution is a silent threat, eroding health and dignity in ways that often go unnoticed. Decisive action is urgently needed. Agencies must be strengthened, insulated from political and religious pressure, and empowered to enforce laws consistently. Offenders must face consequences regardless of influence. Public enlightenment is equally crucial: many Nigerians are unaware that excessive noise is harmful or that they have a legal right to quiet enjoyment of their environment. Sustained education through media, schools, and community forums can shift attitudes. Religious leaders, in particular, must understand that consideration for neighbors is not an attack on faith but a moral responsibility. Soundproofing standards for worship centers and entertainment venues should be adopted nationwide.
Worship should uplift the soul, not assault the ears. Freedom of religion and expression must coexist with responsibility and respect for others. Noise is an inevitable part of urban life, but chaos is not. Nigeria cannot continue as a society where “anything goes.” Psychologists argue that education, stricter enforcement, and changes in personal habits can make a significant difference. If citizens are empowered to demand accountability and authorities act decisively, Nigeria can become a healthier, more livable society.
The Umuahia incident should serve as a wake-up call—not just about individual misconduct but about systemic failure. Protecting citizens from noise pollution is not merely about silence; it is about dignity, health, and the right to live in peace.
By: Calista Ezeaku
Quote:”The milestone of fifty provides an opportunity to reaffirm commitment to ethical leadership, and to envision a legacy that will outlast any political cycle.”
Milestones invite reflection. They prompt us to pause, look back, and anticipate the road ahead. Today, as Governor Siminalayi Fubara marks his 50th birthday, Rivers State and Nigerians at large are given the opportunity to reflect not just on the life of a man, but on the journey of leadership, the test of governance, and the enduring responsibilities of public office. Fifty years is not merely a number; it is a marker of experience, a testament to resilience, and a challenge to the imagination of what the next chapter can hold. Governor Fubara’s rise to leadership was built on the twin pillars of professional discipline and political acumen. Long before he assumed the mantle of governance, he distinguished himself as a technocrat. His years as Accountant-General of Rivers State demonstrated a meticulous understanding of public finance, an ability to manage complex systems, and a commitment to efficiency.
In a political culture too often shaped by spectacle rather than substance, Fubara’s early career reflected a quiet diligence that few could ignore. This reputation positioned him not merely as a politician, but as a steward — a custodian of resources, institutions, and trust. Fifty is an age at which experience meets expectation. For Governor Fubara, this is particularly significant. The administration he now leads has faced scrutiny from every conceivable quarter: political opponents, civil society, the media, and citizens whose expectations have never been higher. Rivers State is a microcosm of Nigeria’s complexities — rich in resources, brimming with potential, but also marked by deep-seated political tensions and societal demands. Leadership here requires more than charisma; it demands judgment, prudence, and a capacity for calm under pressure. On this front, Fubara has shown steadiness.
A hallmark of Governor Fubara’s leadership has been restraint. In an era where governance is too often performed as theater, where loud voices overshadow measured action, he has consistently chosen law over intimidation, procedure over impulse. Decisions are referenced against statutes, governance is framed by institutional norms, and the public is reminded that authority comes with accountability. For a society still consolidating democratic norms, such temperance is both rare and necessary. It is, in many ways, the quiet hallmark of leadership that values stability over spectacle.Yet, birthdays are also moments for honest evaluation. Rivers people will rightly look beyond ceremony and expectation to tangible outcomes. Stability and process matter, but they must ultimately translate into progress: roads that improve mobility, policies that create jobs, systems that empower citizens, and governance that bridges divides rather than deepening them
. Leadership is judged not only by restraint but by results, not only by patience but by purpose. Fifty is a time when reflection must guide action, and where the lessons of experience inform a vision for the future. Governor Fubara’s milestone is also an opportunity to consider the human dimension of governance. Leadership at this level is taxing; the weight of responsibility is constant, and the scrutiny relentless. At 50, a leader is expected to balance firmness with flexibility, authority with empathy, decisiveness with dialogue. These qualities define whether governance is perceived as merely functional or as transformative. Rivers State, with its history of political turbulence, needs a governor who can navigate competing interests without sacrificing principle — and it is here that Fubara’s personal discipline and professional rigor can be leveraged for enduring impact.
Importantly, this birthday offers a chance for strategic reflection on inclusiveness and unity. Great leaders understand that reconciliation is not a concession, but a strategic tool for lasting peace. Rivers State has long been challenged by divisions — political, social, and economic. Leadership at this stage of life demands not just administrative efficiency, but a capacity to bring people together, to heal fractures, and to inspire confidence across divides. As the governor enters his sixth decade, the expectation is that wisdom will translate into bridge-building, that vision will extend beyond immediate political calculations, and that the interests of the state will outweigh the allure of short-term gains.On a personal note, Governor Fubara’s 50th birthday is a celebration of a life defined by service. Public office is not a ceremonial honor; it is a calling with obligations that extend beyond one’s personal ambitions
. It requires courage to make difficult decisions, patience to see policies take root, and humility to acknowledge limitations. The milestone of fifty provides an opportunity to reaffirm commitment to these ideals, to recommit to ethical leadership, and to envision a legacy that will outlast any political cycle. In conclusion, while birthdays are often private affairs, Governor Fubara’s milestone is unavoidably public. It is a moment to celebrate achievement, reflect on lessons learned, and anticipate the challenges ahead. At 50, a leader is expected to combine experience with vision, composure with courage, and principle with pragmatism. Rivers State and Nigerians at large have reason to observe this juncture with hope, expectation, and a measure of optimism.
So today, as the governor marks his 50th year, we offer not just congratulations, but also a reminder: leadership is measured in deeds as much as in years. The next chapter will define legacy, and the people will judge both the man and his administration by the tangible improvements in their daily lives. A toast, therefore, is not only to fifty years of life, but to fifty more years of leadership guided by wisdom, foresight, and the enduring pursuit of the common good. Happy birthday, Governor Siminalayi Fubara — may the next fifty be even more defining.
By: Sylvia ThankGod-Amadi
Quote:”This policy intervention proves that education reform is not just about administration, but about restoring dignity, equity, and integrity to the learning process.”
On September 24, 2025, the article” A Growing Emergency: How Marked-Up Textbooks Are Sabotaging Nigeria’s School Children”, written by King Onunwo, was published in The Tide Newspaper. In the said article, the writer expressed pains in what he viewed as ‘a silent but damaging practice’ taking root in homes across Nigeria, one that threatens the academic future of millions of children in primary and secondary schools. From the paintings of the writer, this seemingly minor convenience where older siblings complete their homeworks directly inside their school textbooks, may seem harmless on the surface. On the contrary, it is creating a dangerous ripple effect. What used to be a normal practice—siblings reusing textbooks year after year to ease the financial burden on families—has now turned into a nightmare. The writer could best describe its impact in our educational system as a stumbling block for students, and a ticking time bomb for the education system and to say the least, a source of distress for countless parents.
The core message of the article is that writing homework and classwork inside textbooks has evolved from a harmless household habit into a national educational crisis that is quietly undermining learning outcomes in Nigeria. Specifically, the article argues that: marked-up textbooks sabotage learning by denying younger students the opportunity to think independently, practice problem-solving, and engage meaningfully with lessons. Economic hardship has normalized textbook reuse, but misuse has turned a cost-saving strategy into an educational disadvantage. The problem is systemic, not merely individual, reflecting failures in policy enforcement, public awareness, and educational support structures. Hence, government’s intervention is urgently required, including regulations, awareness campaigns, textbook audits, penalties, and subsidized writing materials.
Violation of education equity was also fingered as children are academically punished due to circumstances beyond their control—birth order and family income. King Onunwo opined that small oversights can cause large-scale damage, and ignoring such “minor” issues threatens Nigeria’s broader educational goals. Ultimately, he called for a national textbook integrity policy to protect learning materials and ensure fairness in education. Deductively, the writer ‘s feelings and emotional tone conveyed a deep concern and alarm, repeatedly framing the issue as a “growing emergency,” “ticking time bomb,” and “quiet academic crisis.” which signals a genuine fear that the problem if unchecked, may have irreversible consequences.
The writer ‘s tone is outrightly that of an advocate, not a neutral observer, speaking with a strong sense of justice, emphasizing on education as a right, meaning that children should not be academically disadvantaged by family circumstances, hence, the need for society to protect educational tools.The repeated calls for “immediate,” “urgent,” and “no time to waste” action showed impatience with delays and excuses. The writer believes every academic term lost worsens the damage. It is not just about textbooks—it is about educational dignity, equality, and systemic responsibility. The closing metaphor (“the handwriting is on the wall”) reinforces the writer’s belief that the consequences are already visible and that failure to act would be inexcusable. By responding decisively to growing concerns around the misuse and rising cost of learning materials, the Federal Government has demonstrated that thoughtful advocacy still matters—and that public interest writing can indeed influence policy in meaningful ways.
The recently unveiled education policy banning disposable workbooks and mandating the use of durable, reusable textbooks is a commendable step in the right direction. It directly addresses the very issues raised by King Onunwo and other concerned writers and parents who have long warned about the silent damage being done to Nigeria’s school children through poorly designed textbook practices and unchecked misuse of learning materials. For years, families—especially those with multiple children—have struggled under the weight of repeated textbook purchases. Worse still, the culture of writing directly into textbooks turned what should have been reusable learning tools into single-use items, sabotaging younger siblings who inherited books already filled with answers, errors, and confusion. The new policy does not merely reduce costs; it restores the integrity of textbooks as reference materials meant to guide thinking, not replace it.
By insisting on standardized, high-quality textbooks designed to last four to six years, the government has effectively validated the core argument of education advocates: that sustainability, affordability, and quality learning are deeply interconnected. The decision to prohibit the bundling of disposable workbooks—often used as a commercial tactic to force annual purchases—is particularly laudable. It signals a shift away from profit-driven educational practices toward child-centered learning. Equally important is the policy’s emphasis on strengthening assessment and quality assurance for instructional materials. This tackles another long-standing problem: superficial textbook revisions that compel parents to buy “new editions” without meaningful improvements in content. Such practices have eroded trust in the system and placed unnecessary financial strain on households already stretched thin.
Beyond textbooks, the introduction of a uniform academic calendar and the rationalization of graduation ceremonies show a broader sensitivity to the hidden costs of schooling. These reforms recognize that education expenses are not limited to fees alone but are compounded by traditions and inconsistencies that quietly drain family resources. This policy intervention is more than administrative reform; it is proof that government can listen, reflect, and act when issues are clearly articulated and grounded in lived realities. It affirms the value of public-interest writing as a bridge between citizens’ experiences and policy action.While implementation and enforcement will be the true test, the direction is encouraging. Parents, teachers, and school administrators must now play their part to ensure that these reforms translate into real change in classrooms across the country.
In acknowledging and addressing the concerns raised by writers, educators, and families, the government has taken a vital step toward protecting the learning future of Nigerian children. It is a reminder that when the handwriting on the wall is read early enough, it is still possible to rewrite the story—for the better.However, kudos to Federal Government for the intervention, but it should not end on the table rather should be given accelerated attention in order to ensure full implementation.
By: Sylvia ThankGod-Amadi
-
News3 days agoDon Lauds RSG, NECA On Job Fair
-
Niger Delta1 day agoPDP Declares Edo Airline’s Plan As Misplaced Priority
-
Sports2 days agoSimba open Nwabali talks
-
Nation2 days agoHoS Hails Fubara Over Provision of Accommodation for Permanent Secretaries
-
Niger Delta2 days ago
Stakeholders Task INC Aspirants On Dev … As ELECO Promises Transparent, Credible Polls
-
Niger Delta1 day ago
Students Protest Non-indigene Appointment As Rector in C’River
-
Transport2 days agoNigeria Rates 7th For Visa Application To France —–Schengen Visa
-
Oil & Energy2 days agoNUPRC Unveils Three-pillar Transformative Vision, Pledges Efficiency, Partnership