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: “A nation that fails to empower its youth risks mortgaging its future.”
Youth, generally defined as individuals between the ages of 15 and 35, represent a critical phase of human development—a transition from adolescence to adulthood marked by ambition, energy, and the pursuit of purpose. In Nigeria, this demographic constitutes a significant proportion of the population, making it one of the country’s greatest assets. However, this strength is increasingly undermined by a persistent and troubling challenge: youth unemployment.
Unemployment, the condition of being without gainful employment despite the willingness and ability to work, remains a major global concern. In Nigeria, however, it has reached alarming levels, particularly among young people. With estimates suggesting that a substantial percentage of Nigerian youth are either unemployed or underemployed, the consequences have become deeply embedded in the nation’s social and economic fabric.
The impact of youth unemployment is both widespread and severe. Economically, it leads to increased poverty levels and reduced productivity. Socially, it fuels frustration, hopelessness, and disillusionment among young people. This often manifests in rising rates of crime, cyber fraud, substance abuse, and involvement in political violence. When young people are unable to find legitimate means of livelihood, they may become vulnerable to negative influences, posing a threat not only to themselves but to society at large.
One of the primary drivers of youth unemployment in Nigeria is the inadequacy of the educational system. While many young Nigerians graduate from tertiary institutions each year, a significant number lack the practical and technical skills required in today’s job market. The disconnect between academic curricula and industry demands leaves graduates ill-prepared for employment, thereby widening the gap between education and employability.
Furthermore, Nigeria’s heavy dependence on the oil sector has contributed significantly to the unemployment crisis. Over the years, this reliance has led to the neglect of other critical sectors such as agriculture, manufacturing, and technology—sectors that have the potential to generate large-scale employment. The failure to diversify the economy has limited job opportunities and stifled innovation, leaving many young people without viable career paths.
In addition, rapid population growth continues to put immense pressure on the labor market. Each year, thousands of graduates enter the workforce, but the number of available jobs remains insufficient to absorb them. This imbalance creates intense competition for limited opportunities, leaving many qualified individuals unemployed for extended periods.
Access to finance also remains a major barrier for young Nigerians who wish to venture into entrepreneurship. Despite the creativity and entrepreneurial spirit that many youths possess, the lack of access to credit facilities, mentorship, and business support systems makes it difficult for them to establish and sustain their own enterprises. This challenge is further compounded by infrastructural deficits, such as unreliable power supply and limited access to technology.
Security challenges across various parts of the country have also worsened the situation. In some regions, economic hardship and lack of opportunities have made young people susceptible to recruitment into violent or extremist activities. This not only exacerbates insecurity but also diverts the energy of the youth away from productive engagement.
Addressing youth unemployment in Nigeria requires a comprehensive and collaborative approach. The government must take the lead by implementing policies that promote economic diversification, particularly by investing in agriculture, manufacturing, and the digital economy. These sectors hold immense potential for job creation and can absorb a large portion of the unemployed youth population.
Equally important is the reform of the educational system to emphasize skill acquisition, vocational training, and entrepreneurship. Schools and institutions must align their curricula with market needs, ensuring that graduates are equipped with relevant and practical skills. Public-private partnerships can play a vital role in facilitating internships, apprenticeships, and job placement programs.
The private sector also has a crucial role to play in driving job creation and innovation. By investing in youth-focused initiatives and supporting startups, businesses can help unlock the potential of young Nigerians. Additionally, financial institutions should develop more accessible and youth-friendly credit schemes to support small and medium-sized enterprises.
On an individual level, young people must embrace self-development, adaptability, and continuous learning. In an increasingly competitive and evolving global economy, acquiring digital skills, engaging in vocational training, and exploring entrepreneurial opportunities can significantly improve employability.
In conclusion, youth unemployment remains one of the most pressing challenges facing Nigeria today. However, it is not an insurmountable problem. With deliberate policies, strategic investments, and collective action from government, the private sector, and individuals, Nigeria can transform its youth population into a powerful engine of growth and development. By empowering young people with opportunities, skills, and resources, the nation can secure a more prosperous and stable future.
IVARA Favour Isaac is a student of Pan-African Institute of Management and Technology.
By: Ivara Favour Isaac
Quote:“These images are not merely disturbing; they represent a direct assault on human dignity, bodily autonomy, and the rule of law.”
In recent days, national attention has turned to the small community of Ozoro in Delta State, where what was once described as a cultural fertility rite—the Alue-Do Festival—has become the subject of outrage, grief, and urgent national reflection. According to accounts from notable indigenes of Ozoro and the Isoko ethnic group, the festival was originally conceived as a symbolic ritual intended to bless couples struggling with conception. In theory, it was meant to celebrate life, continuity, and communal identity. However, what reportedly unfolded on March 22 bore no resemblance to any noble cultural ideal. Videos circulating widely on social media show groups of men chasing women, forcibly stripping them, and subjecting them to sexual assault in public spaces. These images are not merely disturbing; they represent a direct assault on human dignity, bodily autonomy, and the rule of law.
They compel us to confront a difficult but necessary question: when does tradition cease to be culture and become tyranny? It is encouraging that prominent voices—including the First Lady, the Minister of Women Affairs, human rights organisations, and women’s advocacy groups—have condemned these barbaric acts. The Delta State Government has since banned the Alue-Do Festival, while law enforcement authorities have reportedly made arrests. Yet beyond the immediate outrage lies a deeper and more uncomfortable conversation—one that communities across the country must confront honestly: the thin line between culture and abuse. “Culture is not static—it evolves, or at least, it should.” Culture is often described as the soul of a people, encompassing traditions, beliefs, and practices passed down through generations. Nigeria is richly endowed with diverse cultural heritage, much of which we rightly celebrate.
However, when culture becomes a shield for harmful practices, it loses its moral authority. When actions that violate fundamental human rights are justified in the name of tradition, we must ask: whose culture is this, and at what cost? The events in Ozoro illustrate how a practice that may once have held symbolic meaning can devolve into something deeply harmful. Even if the Alue-Do Festival began as a benign fertility rite, its present manifestation—marked by violence and coercion—cannot be defended. “Culture must align with dignity, consent, and respect—anything less is not tradition, but abuse.” One of the most persistent arguments in defence of controversial practices is that they are “part of our heritage” and therefore beyond criticism. Yet harmful practices—child marriage, inhumane widowhood rites, and domestic abuse—have long been justified using this same reasoning. This argument is not only flawed; it is dangerous. No culture is above scrutiny, particularly when it endangers the rights and safety of its people.
History reminds us that many practices once considered “normal” are now widely condemned. Societies progress by questioning and reforming such practices—not by clinging to them. Nigeria is not exempt from this reality. As a nation governed by law and constitutional principles, we cannot afford to tolerate practices that undermine the rights of citizens—especially women. At the heart of the Ozoro incident lies a broader societal issue: the perception of women as objects rather than autonomous individuals. The actions of the perpetrators were not isolated—they were enabled by a mindset that sees women’s bodies as accessible, controllable, and, in some contexts, communal property. “Women are not possessions, prizes, or objects of exploitation—they are individuals with rights, agency, and dignity.” This mindset reflects a deeper systemic problem often described as “rape culture,” visible in victim-blaming narratives, the dismissal of harassment, and the silence that frequently surrounds abuse.
For meaningful change to occur, this mindset must be confronted directly. Parents, religious institutions, government agencies, and the media all have critical roles to play in reshaping societal attitudes. Traditional institutions also wield significant influence, particularly in rural communities. With that influence comes responsibility—not only to preserve culture but to ensure that cultural practices align with contemporary standards of human rights and decency.The reported denial by the Ovie of Ozoro Kingdom of knowledge of the recent festival raises important questions about oversight and accountability. Community leaders and members alike must rise to their responsibilities. Cultural practices are sustained by collective acceptance. Silence, indifference, or complicity only perpetuate harm. While cultural reform is essential, it must be accompanied by accountability. The arrests made in connection with the incident are a step in the right direction, but they must lead to tangible outcomes. “Justice must not only be done—it must be seen to be done.”
Allowing perpetrators of sexual violence to go unpunished sends a dangerous message—that such actions are tolerable. This fosters a culture of impunity. The law must be clear and unequivocal: sexual assault, in any form and under any guise, is a crime. It is not a cultural expression—it is a violation.It must be emphasised that calling for the abandonment of harmful cultural practices is not an attack on tradition, but a call to refine it. Culture, at its best, is dynamic—it adapts while preserving its core values.“Tradition should uplift, not oppress.” Modernising culture does not mean erasing identity. It means ensuring that traditions remain relevant, inclusive, and respectful of human dignity. As Nigeria continues to evolve, it must decide what kind of society it aspires to be: one that hides behind tradition to justify abuse, or one that embraces progress while honouring its heritage responsibly. The outrage over the events in Ozoro is justified—but outrage alone is not enough
. It must translate into action: legal, cultural, and educational. We must state, without ambiguity, that no tradition justifies the violation of human dignity. We must hold perpetrators accountable and challenge the attitudes that enable such acts. True development is measured not only by infrastructure or economic growth, but by how a society treats its most vulnerable members. “If a cultural practice dehumanises, degrades, or endangers, it has no place in a modern society.” Where tradition fails to uphold dignity, it ceases to be culture. It becomes tyranny.
By: Calista Ezeaku
Quote: “For the first time in years, Rivers journalists are not just hearing promises—they are seeing a union that works.”
The first year in office of the Paul Bazia-led executive of the Nigeria Union of Journalists (NUJ), has offered something many had almost given up on—renewed confidence in union leadership. For a body as critical as the NUJ, whose responsibility goes beyond professional coordination to include the welfare, protection, and continuous development of journalists, expectations are always high. Unfortunately, past experiences had conditioned many members to expect less—less action, less visibility, and less impact.This is why the past twelve months stand out. Within a relatively short period, the Bazia-led administration has demonstrated a level of drive that distinguishes it from its predecessors. There is a noticeable shift from inertia to activity, from routine administration to purposeful leadership. Initiatives captured in the one-year report point to an executive that understands both the urgency of its mandate and the frustrations of its members.
Particularly commendable is the renewed attention to journalists’ welfare. For too long, welfare issues have lingered without meaningful resolution, leaving many practitioners feeling unsupported. The current leadership’s efforts—through engagement, structured support, and timely interventions—signal a welcome change in priorities. Equally important is the push toward professional development. In an era where journalism is rapidly evolving, capacity building is no longer optional. The administration’s commitment to training and skill enhancement reflects an understanding that a stronger union must be built on more competent and competitive professionals. There is also something to be said about visibility and voice. A vibrant NUJ must not only serve its members internally but also stand as a credible voice in the public space—defending press freedom, promoting ethical standards, and constructively engaging critical issues.
Encouragingly, the current executive appears more present and responsive, giving the union a renewed sense of relevance. Perhaps what resonates most, however, is the sense of movement. For many members, the difference between the present and the immediate past is not subtle—it is clear. Where there was once stagnation, there is now direction. Where there was doubt, there is growing belief. Beyond the visible strides recorded within this first year, what perhaps deserves even greater applause is the restoration of institutional confidence within the Nigeria Union of Journalists. For a long time, many members had grown disenchanted, viewing the union more as a ceremonial body than an active force capable of defending their interests and advancing their welfare. That narrative, however, is gradually changing. The Bazia-led executive has not only initiated programs but has also rekindled a sense of belonging among members.
Meetings appear more purposeful, engagements more intentional, and decisions more reflective of collective interest. This psychological shift—subtle as it may seem—is one of the most critical achievements of the past year, because a union that its members believe in is already halfway to effectiveness. It is also important to underscore the contrast with the immediate past, not as an exercise in criticism, but as a necessary context for measuring progress. Where previous administrations struggled to translate plans into action, the current leadership has shown a greater bias for execution. Projects that once lingered in discussion stages are now seeing tangible movement, and issues that were previously deferred are receiving attention. This difference in approach—moving from prolonged deliberation to decisive action—has helped reposition the union as a more responsive and relevant institution.
While no administration is without its shortcomings, the willingness to act, even in the face of constraints, marks a significant departure from what members were accustomed to. Looking ahead, the expectations of members—and indeed the wider public—will only grow stronger. With a solid first year behind it, the Bazia-led executive now carries the burden of consistency. Members will expect deeper welfare interventions that go beyond immediate relief to more sustainable support systems. They will look for expanded training opportunities that prepare journalists for the rapidly changing media landscape. They will also expect a firmer, more courageous voice on issues affecting press freedom and professional integrity. Above all, they will demand continuity—assurance that the progress recorded so far is not a fleeting phase but the beginning of a sustained transformation.
Meeting these expectations will not be easy, but it is precisely this challenge that defines enduring leadership. That said, this moment of applause must also serve as a moment of reflection. A strong first year inevitably raises expectations. Journalists in Rivers State will now look beyond initial achievements toward consolidation. Welfare interventions must become more structured and far-reaching. Training programs must be sustained and expanded. Advocacy must become more consistent and impactful. Most importantly, the unity of the union must be strengthened, ensuring that all members feel included and carried along. Transparency will also be key. Continued open communication about finances, decisions, and challenges will deepen trust and set a standard for accountable union leadership. The task ahead is clear: to convert early momentum into lasting institutional progress.
For the Bazia-led executive, the opportunity is significant. It has, within one year, reawakened belief in what the NUJ Rivers State Council can be. The next step is to ensure that this renewed energy does not fade, but instead becomes the foundation of a stronger, more responsive, and more respected union. For the members, the message is equally clear—expect more, demand more, and support what works because in the end, a vibrant union is not built by leadership alone, but by a collective commitment to progress. And for now, under Bazia, that progress has truly begun.
By: Sylvia ThankGod-Amadi
-
Editorial12 hours agoDomesticate FG’s Exit Benefit Scheme
-
News13 hours agoDHQ Confirms Deaths Of Terrorists, Soldiers In Borno Attack
-
News8 hours agoRSU Unveils Five-Year Strategic Dev Plan …Calls For Collective Commitment To Institutional Excellence
-
Rivers11 hours ago
Dep Gov Seeks Collaboration, Transparency Between RIVCHPP, PHCMB
-
Nation9 hours ago
Rumuji Youth Leader Condemns Protest, Disowns Alleged Government Empowerment Claim
-
Featured11 hours agoFG Reaffirms Nigeria’s Stability As US Embassy Suspends Visa Appointments In Abuja Office
-
Nation9 hours agoHaniel Jack Foundation Awards Five Rivers Indigenes Scholarship
-
Business13 hours ago
NPF Disburses ?21.68m To Fallen Heros’ Families …Reinforce Welfare Commitment