Opinion

Upclose With Rex Lawson

Published

5 years ago

January 29, 2021

The Tide

“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.

Opinion

Gridlock at the Gates

Published

1 day ago

October 13, 2025

The Tide

Quote:” City planners have long warned against overloading central arteries with industrial traffic. Port Harcourt, being a commercial hub, must observe those cautions. Let this Government House corridor not become a permanent choke point.”

It was midmorning when the rumbles began. From the direction of the factory opposite Government House, a long convoy of heavy trailers edged slowly into the already congested artery. Drivers, helpless, contended with idle cars, impatient motorbikes and pedestrians hawking wares. The gridlock that ensued was inevitable and dangerous. That stretch of road has long struggled with traffic, even under normal circumstances. But when trailers laden with goods destined for that factory arrived in the heart of the city, the resulting chaos tests the limits of road safety and civic order. What should have been a routine delivery turned into a spectacle of stalled vehicles, honking horns and frustrated commuters.Commuters arriving from the east and west found themselves at the mercy of fate. Buses squeezed past gaps, sometimes brushing mirrors.

Motorcyclists always audacious darted between trailers and cars, risking life for a few extra seconds. Pedestrians, navigating narrow sidewalks, were sometimes forced onto the road. A mother clutching her child crossed dozens of vehicles to reach a bus stop. An office worker, already late, dashed between vehicles narrowly avoiding being clipped by a reversing trailer. A delivery van, stuck mid?way, belched smoke as its engine laboured. It was a microcosm of urban mayhem. The danger is not hypothetical. One trailer, reversing without adequate sight, could crush small vehicles behind it. A sudden jerk of an overloaded container might dislodge cargo. A pedestrian stepping from between cars is invisible to a trailer’s blind spots. In the event of fire or medical emergency, blocked lanes could turn a crisis into tragedy.Residents in nearby quarters — the civil servants’ neighbourhood, local shops, offices stood to suffer the most. Their streets are collateral damage.

The hum of commerce is stifled, delivery schedules disrupted, lives endangered. In moments like these, city planning is revealed naked its flaws exposed for all to see.One elderly man, waiting for a bus, remarked: “All I need is ten minutes to reach my office. But today, I cannot even cross to the bus stop safely.”His voice quivered, not from fear alone, but from frustration. Others muttered about lack of traffic control, absence of escorts, poor coordination.It is tempting to blame just the truck drivers. But the problem is deeper. The timing of deliveries, the route choice, the lack of alternative access roads, and the absence of coordinated traffic management all conspire to produce this mess. Government House being the focal point only magnifies the stakes.We know this area in Rivers State is sensitive, high profile. Government officials, dignitaries and official vehicles traverse that corridor many times a day.

To see trailers lumbering past security parlours, squeezing past guard booths, is to court risk both symbolic and physical. At least twice this year, small collisions have occurred there a trailer striking a road divider, another brushing a sedan. Thankfully injuries were minor. But next time, the outcome may not be so forgiving. The margin for error is shrinking. What can be done? The first step is scheduling. Heavy trailers should not come at peak hours. Late-night or early?morning slots, when traffic is minimal, should be mandated. This simple shift would relieve the burden on daytime traffic. Second, alternative access. If the factory had a back entrance or service road away from the main artery, trailers could avoid the central route entirely. Even a temporary bypass could serve until permanent measures are built. Third, coordination with traffic authorities. The state’s traffic management agency must be looped in — to provide escorts, clear pathways, regulate entry and exit times. Without their presence, chaos reigns.

Fourth, strict enforcement. Trailers that defy timing orders or block lanes should attract penalties. Fines, impoundment, or delays could discourage reckless scheduling. Consistency here matters. Fifth, signage and awareness. Drivers, residents and commercial operators alike must know the restrictions. Clear signs, public announcements and coordination with the factory management will help. No one should claim ignorance. Sixth, advance notice. Residents and road users deserve alerts when heavy traffic is expected. That way they can plan alternate routes and minimize exposure to danger. Seventh, standing zones. Designated holding areas for trailers — safe zones where they can queue without entering the congested corridor. This would prevent multiple trailers crowding into the central route at once. If these measures are ignored, the dangers worsen. A panic situation — say a health emergency in that neighborhood — could be fatally delayed by gridlock. Fire engines or ambulances might be unable to manoeuvre. Lives would hang in the balance.

Insurance costs will rise. Businesses fronting the road may suffer loss of customers. The reputation of city management will take a hit. And worst of all, a tragic accident might claim an innocent life. We can end this madness but only if the will is firm and immediate. Rivers State government must act. The factory management too must show responsibility, coordinating delivery times and ensuring their drivers comply. A committee comprising traffic authorities, local government, factory management and community representatives should be formed, tasked with drawing a traffic relief plan, fast. Sit?downs, surveys, consultations — done in days, not months. In the interim, emergency measures can help. Temporary traffic diversions, rope-off lanes, manual marshals guiding trailers, police presence all can ease the burden while long-term plans are prepared. Community vigilance is critical. Residents and road users must report blocking trailers, reckless driving, and violations to authorities. If the populace insists on accountability, officials are more likely to act.

City planners have long warned against overloading central arteries with industrial traffic. Port Harcourt, being a commercial hub, must observe those cautions. Let this Government House corridor not become a permanent choke point.The tragedy of inaction is that the problem compounds. Tonight’s chaos seeds tomorrow’s delay; next week’s near?miss becomes a crash. If we let the problem persist, we court disaster. This is more than a traffic story. It’s about governance, foresight, respect for human life. It’s about restoring order in a city that cries out daily for planning and discipline. Let no more trailers barge freely into this corridor. Let us refuse to accept gridlock as normal. Let Rivers State reclaim its roads, its safety, its dignity. It is time to end this once and for all.

By: By King Onunwor

Opinion

Beyond Recapitalization Of Banks

Published

1 day ago

October 13, 2025

The Tide

Quote:” Whereas Nigerian banks have seen their real capital eroded by inflation and currency depreciation, the most immediate and positive outcome expected from the recapitalisation is enhanced financial stability”

When the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN) on April 1, 2024, set a 24-month timeline for banking sector recapitalization, reactions ranged from optimism to skepticism. Now, with barely two quarters to the deadline of March 31, 2026, the heat on the sector is getting to feverish pitch. The new benchmark now requires banks with international operating licenses to shore-up capital bases to N500 billion, up from the previous ?25 billion minimum, while those with national operating licenses are required to up-grade to N200 billion, and regional banks to N50 billion minimum. Realistically, having been over two decades since the last recapitalization exercise which happened under Professor Charles Soludo as the CBN Governor, the current exercise is long over-due. The delay highlights a level of laxity on the side of financial regulators.

Coming more than two decades later, the current recapitalization appears push-driven by inflation, naira depreciation, or by the sheer dream for a $1 trillion economy, rather than a calculation borne by foresight. The exercise might also expose weak governance structures, as shareholders and foreign partners demand greater transparency and accountability before committing funds. But if implemented transparently, it could rejuvenate Nigeria’s banking sector and lay the foundation for sustainable economic growth. The success of the recapitalisation drive will depend upon policy consistency, regulatory clarity, and fairness. Since the last exercise in 2004 the Nigerian economy has changed both in size and dynamics, with most banks having assumed heavier financial undertakings locally and internationally, and some having expanded operations into off-shore frontiers. In 2004, Nigeria’s GDP was estimated at $135.8 billion.

Today the estimate stands at $477 billion, and is being projected to hit $1 trillion by 2030. In the face of a devalued currency, the dynamics of present-day transactions present newer levels of risk exposures, for which banks need to be adequately fortified. The increased volume of transactions following relative economic growth since 2004, require that Nigerian banks be recapitalized even in trillions of Naira in order not to be tossed off-balance. Adequate recapitalization would strengthen the banks to higher resilience against financial shocks, while enabling them to expand lending capacities to an economy starved by cash. Thankfully, 14 banks are confirmed to have hit their required threshold targets, thus are in positions to dominate the industry going forward. These include First Bank, Access Bank, Zenith Bank, Guaranty Trust Holding Company (GTCO), United Bank for Africa (UBA), Stanbic IBTC, Fidelity Bank, Ecobank Nigeria, Wema Bank, Sterling Bank, Union Bank, First City Monument Bank (FCMB), Standard Chartered Bank, and Citibank Nigeria.

Whereas Nigerian banks have seen their real capital eroded by inflation and currency depreciation, the most immediate and positive outcome expected from the recapitalisation is enhanced financial stability. What was once a ?25 billion minimum capital base in 2004 now holds far less value in dollar terms. By compelling banks to raise fresh capital, the CBN would be reshaping the institutions to withstand global financial headwinds, manage credit risks more effectively, and maintain public confidence in the banking system. Another major benefit could be increased lending capacity. Stronger capital bases would enable banks to fund large-scale infrastructure projects, support manufacturing, agriculture, and the digital economy, and provide long-term financing that Nigeria’s development urgently needs. With Nigeria aspiring to become a trillion-dollar economy, its banks must have balance sheets robust enough to support both government and private sector investment at scale.

Besides, recapitalization is a key stress-test exercise that weeds-out weaker financial institutions to ensure that only the fittest operate in the economy. Evidently, the last exercise in 2004 transformed the sector, after merger and acquisition activities reduced the number of banks from a staggering, but ineffective 89, to 25 strong, better-capitalised banks. Followed by other reforms, the occurrence of distressed banks got drastically reduced. Before then, bank distresses got depositors stranded when they could not access their hard-earned savings. But painfully, not all outcomes would be rosy from the present consolidation exercise. In a sluggish economy and tight global capital market, raising new funds will be a daunting challenge. Even as many of the banks, who have turned to the Nigerian Exchange (NGX) to issue new shares, reported good investor appetites, smaller banks with limited shareholder backings are not as lucky.

This is triggering waves of acquisition and takeover fevers, reminiscent of the 2004 era. As already being witnessed, struggling tier-2 banks which are unlikely to raise sufficient capital from the market, would consider mergers and acquisitions as the only realistic paths to survival. As insider sources reveal, the dire situation is already reshaping boardroom strategies, as may engage financial advisers and investment banks for possible deals. And as the Asset Management Company of Nigeria (AMCON) sold its 34 per cent stake in Unity Bank to Providus Bank weeks ago, the fate of the former is set for acquisition by the latter, while peers like Polaris Bank, Keystone Bank, and SunTrust Bank, may go in similar directions in the rush-up to the deadline.However, other risks remain. Poorly executed mergers could lead to integration challenges, governance conflicts, and cultural clashes that may hurt the system.

While consolidation can bring efficiency and innovation, it could also lead to job losses and reduced competition, especially if regional banks are swallowed by larger, urban-based institutions. The CBN must therefore ensure that the recapitalisation process does not stifle diversity within the financial ecosystem.If successfully managed, recapitalisation could usher-in a competitive, and development-oriented banking industry, that sends strong signals to international investors that Nigeria is serious about financial reforms and economic resilience. A more stable, liquid, and well-capitalised banking system for Nigeria, will not only strengthen domestic confidence but could also attract foreign direct investment and international partnerships.But if plagued by politics, favoritism, or poor timing, it could become a missed opportunity, that leaves the economy burdened with fewer, yet not necessarily stronger, banks.

By: Joseph Nwankwor

Opinion

Dark Side Of Digital Distractions

Published

1 week ago

October 6, 2025

The Tide

Quote:”The next time you find yourself at the scene of an accident, remember that there are real people involved, with real stories and real struggles. And there’s a real opportunity for you to make a difference”.

Accident happens in an instant, but its impact can last lifelong. When the sounds of screeching tires and crunching metal fill the air, it’s human nature to turn and look. But what drives us to gaze upon the wreckage, to slow down and stare at the scene of an accident? Is it morbid curiosity, a desire for a thrill, or something more complex? In the moments following a crash, a strange and fascinating dynamic unfolds – one that reveals as much about us as it does about the accident itself. In this story I am about to tell, we explore the intriguing and often uncomfortable world of accident scenes and the people drawn to them, where the lines between tragedy and attraction blur. The story goes thus: As the flames from the remains of the vehicle filled the air, a crowd began to form on the sidewalk. Some people gathered out of concern, others out of curiosity. A few stood frozen, their eyes fixed on the wrecked vehicle on fire.

On the floor lied my dad who looked physically fine and ignored by the onlookers whose only attention was the vehicle burning and the people inside of it screaming for help. Maria, a nurse on her way home from work, rushed towards the scene to offer assistance. “I saw the whole thing happen,” she said, her voice shaking. “I had to help.” Meanwhile, a group of teenagers snapped photos and videos with their phones. “It’s gonna be all over social media,” one of them exclaimed. An elderly woman, her eyes welling up with tears, muttered a prayer under her breath. “It’s just so tragic,” she said, shaking her head. “Those poor people.” A young professional, sipping on a coffee, gazed at the scene with a mix of fascination and disgust. “I don’t know why I’m staring,” he admitted. “It’s like I can’t look away.” There was no emergency team around but onlookers continued to gather. Some were drawn in by a desire to help, others by a morbid fascination.

Some were moved to prayer, others to social media posts. But all were united in their shared gaze, a reminder of our shared humanity. All attention was brought back to the only survivor when he was about to take his last breath and was rushed to a nearby hospital and offered medical attention where they discovered he had been bleeding internally and lost so much blood. That single thought of taking him down to a hospital saved a soul, the soul of my father! That help rendered has provided a chance for me to still have a father today. Accidents are a rare moment when our private lives intersect with public space. Usually, our personal struggles and tragedies play out behind closed doors, invisible to the outside world. But when an accident occurs, the private becomes public, and we’re drawn to the spectacle like moths to a flame.

We’re drawn to them because they represent a primal fear, a reminder of our own mortality. But we’re also repelled by them, because they confront us with the harsh realities of life. In the end, our fascination with accidents is a reflection of our own humanity – our fears, our vulnerabilities, and our deep-seated desire to connect with others. So, the next time you find yourself at the scene of an accident, remember that you have the power to make a difference. Instead of just rubbernecking, take a moment to do the following: Offer assistance if you’re able; call emergency services if no one else has; provide support and comfort to those affected; and share your own experience and insights to help others.Together, we can create a culture of care and compassion, where accidents are not just spectacles to be gawked at, but opportunities to connect with others and make a positive impact.

The next time you find yourself at the scene of an accident, remember that there are real people involved, with real stories and real struggles. And there’s a real opportunity for you to make a difference. By offering assistance, support and compassion, you can help turn a moment of tragedy into a moment of connection and community. You can help break down the barriers that separate us and build bridges of understanding and empathy. So let’s make a pact to approach accident scenes with kindness, compassion and care. Let’s make a pact to see the humanity in each other, even in the midst of chaos and destruction. Together, we can create a world that’s more compassionate, more empathetic, and more connected.

Olorunfemi is a Mass Communication student of Prince Abubakar Audu University, Kogi State.

By: Favour O. Olorunfemi