Opinion

Lies And The Iraqi War, 20 Years On

Published

3 years ago

March 20, 2023

There is no gainsaying the fact that our beloved country, Nigeria, is currently in a high-octane dysfunction. Some might argue that it is because of the kind of President we have; but my own argument would be that President Muhammadu Buhari has never been anything different since he took the oath of office on May 29, 2015. In truth, the current dysfunction is not unconnected to the various theaters of war across the country, and we must know that President Buhari allowed this ferment.

The mendacity of 2015 and what Nigeria has become today, even as the unraveling continues is a near parallel to the lies that George Bush and Tony Blair told the world two decades ago. It was almost a year and six months after the September 11 attacks, and America was looking for an avenue to reassert itself. It knew that the intelligence was wrong, yet it was packaged and sold to its allies, including the British. Even though, then Prime Minister, Tony Blair did not see hard evidence, he joined the allied forces and took the British to Iraq.

At that time, Tony Blair was heard saying: “I only know what I believe.” Many may have wondered what he meant by that statement. For some, it was an appeal to the heart; while for others, it was a political sleight-of-hand, a simple way of saying, I have no concrete evidence of weapons of mass destruction (WMD) in Iraq. During the same period, we were also fed with such nonsensical statement accredited to the then Secretary of Defence of the US, Donald Rumsfeld, during a news briefing, he said: “There are known knowns. These are things we know that we know. There are known unknowns. That is to say, there are things that we know we do not know. But there are also unknown unknowns. There are things we do not know we do not know.”

In the period leading to the launch of the war on March 19, 2003, the Arab League voiced its opposition to the war in very strong terms. In fact, in retrospect, it was as if the leaders of the Arab League were gazing at a crystal ball when they declared that “invading Iraq would open the gates of hell.” Indeed, after 20 years, and counting, that gate has become a gaping hole that continues to consume vital resources that could have been deployed in other ventures, and most of the crises in the Middle East could be traced to the fallout of the Iraq war.

It is now an open secret that Iraq was invaded on specious intelligence which was primarily sourced from a defector referred to as Curveball, who was also an alcoholic. The events of the last two decades have been tumultuous for the world and the Middle East, but particularly for the Iraqi people, even though one of the core arguments of Bush and Blair made for war on Iraq was for the betterment of the Iraqis – freeing them from the grip of a despot. Yes, Sadam Hussein was removed, however at an awful cost: about 300,000 lives, according to one estimate. Sadly, most of the casualties are Iraqi civilians.

Since 2003, so much has happened due to the leadership vacuum created at the heart of the Middle East with the fall of Saddam Hussein. In Iraq, ethnic and tribal sentiments and mistrust have crippled every government, and as a result, the present government is unable to provide something as basic as water. But then, we have seen major problems like the rise of ISIS and the Caliphate, and the impasse in Syria after President Asad killed thousands of his people without a clear resolution and action from the United Nations; and not leaving out the resultant northward migration of Arab youths to Europe.

Even Nigeria has not been spared from the ripple effects of the bad decision of Bush and Blaire because ISIS has gained a foothold in Nigeria. For instance, a December 2022 article on The Africa Report had the following caption: “Nigeria 2023: ISIS make inroads in Nigeria ahead of elections, says the report. But, the first paragraph of the article was more telling, and it reads: “The ISIS-backed Islamic State West Africa Province (ISWAP) had a “successful year” in Nigeria in 2022, carrying out attacks in the capital, Abuja; Kano; Kaduna; and setting up bases in and around Niger State, according to a report by a Nigerian based intelligence research consultancy, SBM Intelligence.”

As you already know, aside from natural causes, the 2022 flood inclusive, Boko Haram, ISIS and of course rogue Fulani herdsmen are the reason why Nigerian is in a food security crisis. Farmers are unable to cultivate their lands, while those who manage to cultivate their lands are unable to go back to the farms for harvest. Reports have it that in some cases, most farming communities have been sacked to the point of no return. Even though Nigeria was not a member of the United Nations Security Council in 2003, and it is not a member currently, one might ask if our voice was heard in the Committee of Nations opposing the Bush and Blaire rascality. Honestly, I am in doubt if we took a position; or, if we even had the political finesse to play our part as the largest black nation on earth, and the so-called giant of Africa.

For too long, we have stood on the sidelines of history, and international epochs due to our perpetual babyhood. We have allowed international trouble to show up at our doorstep, even when we have no hand in it, but because we lack the clarity to make the right decision, and to take timely actions. The political significance and the full ramifications of the events of the past two decades are a kettle of fish still on fire. But the world, and Nigeria in particular, seem to have learned no lessons from the unholy cocktail of so-called expert advice and political massaging. This much was made plain at the peak of the COVID-19 Pandemic; the experts sent the world into a lockdown without any real scientific proof that the approach would stem the spread of the virus.

But, it did not stop there. Major global leaders used their platforms to spread fear, especially in Africa. For instance, Melinda Gates was on CNN when she mentioned that the developing world would be hit the hardest, making particular reference to Africa. Some might have forgotten her actual words, but thank God for the news media and the internet that never forgets. She said: “It’s going to be horrible in the developing world.

“Part of the reasons you are seeing the case numbers still do not look very bad, is because they do not have access to many tests. Look at what is happening in Ecuador, they are putting bodies out on the streets, you are going to see that in countries in Africa.”Her projections were preposterous; yet when it did not materialise, African countries were accused of not having accurate data. Fortunately, the truth remains that; compared to our population of 1.2 billion people in Africa both the infection rate and the death from the covid-19 pandemic were infinitesimal.Another major case of global group thinking and disinformation is coming from the World Economic Forum, and other global institutions, especially in the issue regarding global warming and what should be done to curtain it. As it is, if most of the advanced ideas are implemented, global GDP would fall, and the negative impact will be more on developing countries like Nigeria.

As I look through the prism of time, and the lies that have been told over and over again by global leaders in the wake of the Iraqi war twenty years on, I am saddened that black Africa especially has not found its own voice. We are still fed crumbs of information in the event of a global crisis that might not be in our best interest. We need to wake up!

By: Raphael Pepple

Opinion

Ndifon’s Verdict and University Power Reform

Published

20 hours ago

November 24, 2025

The Tide

Quote:”But beyond the courtroom victory lies a pressing question: What next? How do we ensure that Nigerian universities no longer serve as hunting grounds for predatory academics? How do we guarantee that students—especially young women—can pursue education without fear of victimization?”

The conviction of Professor Cyril Ndifon, suspended Dean of Law at the University of Calabar, to five years in prison by the Federal High Court Abuja, provided a rare moment of relief amid the week’s troubling national events. Beyond punishing one individual, the judgment signaled that accountability—especially regarding sexual harassment and abuse of power in Nigerian higher institutions—may finally be gaining traction. For years, many students, especially young women, have quietly endured intimidation, coercion, and the misuse of academic privilege. Reports and surveys have consistently shown the depth of this problem. A 2018 World Bank survey estimated that 70% of female graduates had faced some form of sexual harassment in school, while a Nigerian study recorded sexual violence as the most common form of gender-based violence on campuses.

Ndifon’s case has therefore become symbolic—challenging the belief that powerful academics can act with impunity. Justice James Omotosho’s ruling went beyond the conviction; it exposed the systemic rot that enables abuse. His description of Ndifon as a predator highlighted how institutions fail when they lack strong, independent structures for accountability. Although the Independent Corrupt Practices and Other Related Offences Commission (ICPC) proved its case beyond reasonable doubt, many similar cases never reach court because victims remain afraid, discouraged, or convinced that the system will not protect them. A major difference in this case was that a government agency fulfilled its responsibility rather than letting the matter fade, as often happens with campus scandals. Too often, allegations arise but internal committees stall, victims lose hope, and the accused quietly escape consequences.

This time, however, the judiciary refused to allow such evasion. The court’s decision to center the victims and dismiss attempts to discredit them set an important precedent at a time when survivors are often blamed or pressured into silence. Yet the bigger question remains: What next? How can Nigerian universities become safe spaces where students, particularly young women, can pursue education without fear? First, reporting systems must be overhauled. Traditional structures—where complaints pass through heads of departments or deans—are inadequate, especially when senior officers are the accused. Independent, gender-sensitive complaint bodies are essential. Some institutions, such as the University of Ibadan and Godfrey Okoye University, have already taken steps by establishing gender-mainstreaming units. Other universities must follow suit, ensuring confidentiality, protection from backlash, and transparent investigations.

Second, proven cases of harassment must attract real consequences—not quiet transfers or administrative warnings. Sexual exploitation is not a mere disciplinary issue; it is a crime and should be promptly escalated to law-enforcement agencies. Treating criminal behaviour as an internal matter only emboldens perpetrators. Third, students must feel safe to speak up. As a senior lecturer at the University of Abuja advised, silence fuels impunity. Students need to believe that justice is attainable and that they will be supported. This requires consistent sensitization efforts by student unions, civil society groups, gender advocacy organizations, and ministries of women affairs. New students, in particular, need early guidance to understand their rights and available support systems. The recent approval of the Sexual Harassment of Students (Prevention and Prohibition) Bill, 2025, prescribing up to 14 years imprisonment for educators convicted of harassment, is a step in the right direction.

Quick presidential assent and domestication by states will strengthen legal protection. As Nelson Mandela said, “A society that fails to protect its women cannot claim to be civilized.” This principle must guide Nigeria’s legislative and institutional reforms. The legal profession has its own soul-searching to do. Law faculties are expected to model ethics and justice. When a senior law academic betrays these values, the damage extends beyond the victims—it undermines confidence in both higher education and the justice system. The judiciary’s firm stance in this case therefore reinforces the idea that the law exists to protect the vulnerable, not shield the powerful. Yet, this moment should not end with celebration alone; it must ignite a broader institutional awakening. Universities must begin to review their staff appraisal systems to include behavioural ethics, not just academic output.

Governing councils should strengthen oversight mechanisms and ensure that disciplinary processes are free from internal politics. Alumni associations and parents’ forums can also play a monitoring role, demanding higher standards of conduct from staff and administrators. Importantly, the government must provide universities with the financial and technical support needed to establish functional gender desks, counselling units, and digital reporting platforms. Only when all stakeholders take ownership of the problem can lasting reform be achieved. Professor Ndifon’s sentencing represents justice for one victim, but it must inspire justice for many more. It should mark the beginning of a nationwide resolve to reclaim Nigerian universities from those who misuse authority. The future of education in this country must be shaped by knowledge, dignity, and integrity—not fear or manipulation. The judgment is a call to action: to build campuses where students are safe, where lecturers are held accountable, and where power is exercised with responsibility. Only then can Nigeria truly claim to be nurturing the leaders of tomorrow.

By: Calista Ezeaku

Opinion

As Nigeria’s Insecurity Rings Alarm

Published

20 hours ago

November 24, 2025

The Tide

Quote:”President Donald Trump’s designation of Nigeria a Country of Special Concern and further threats to intervene in countries experiencing religious persecution reflect a growing international concern regarding Nigeria’s deteriorating security situation.”

In recent years, Nigeria has witnessed an alarming evolution of insecurity that threatens not only the stability of the nation but also the broader West African region. Bandit attacks on schools, farms, mosques, and Christian worship centers have become distressingly commonplace, painting a grim picture of a country under siege from multiple fronts. The rise of kidnappings for ransom, coupled with the persistent threat of terrorism from groups like Boko Haram and ISWAP, has ignited fears among communities and hampered economic activities. As neighboring Sahel countries grapple with coups and the spread of extremist ideologies, Nigeria finds itself at a precarious crossroads that demands urgent attention and action.

According to media tally, about 2,496 students have been abducted in 92 school attacks since the Chibok saga of 2014. And prompted by recent incidents in Kwara, Kebbi and Niger states, where hundreds of pupils were abducted, state governments across northern Nigeria are shutting down, or relocating schools. Even the federal government last week, via the Federal Ministry of Education hastily ordered principals of 41 unity schools across northern Nigeria, to shut-down.The increasing frequency and audacity of bandit attacks highlight a troubling trend in Nigeria’s security landscape. Schools, once seen as sanctuaries for learning, have become targets for kidnappers seeking to exploit vulnerable students. These attacks not only disrupt education but also instill fear in families, leading to mass withdrawals from schools. Should we raise a generation of children deprived of their right to education?

Similarly, farms and places of worship have not been spared. Communities that once thrived on agriculture and faith, now live in constant dread of violent incursions. The targeted killings of Christians and attacks on mosques further exacerbate religious tensions, threatening to disrupt the social fabric that holds Nigeria together.The situation is compounded by the unsettling developments in the Sahel region, where coups and the rise of jihadist groups have created a volatile environment. The spillover effects of this instability are palpable in Nigeria, as extremist ideologies proliferate and armed groups gain confidence. The porous borders of the region facilitate the movement of militants and weapons, making it increasingly difficult for Nigerian authorities to contain the threats. As Nigeria struggles to secure its territory, the consequences of failure become more pronounced, with the potential for a broader regional crisis looming on the horizon.

President Donald Trump’s designation of Nigeria a Country of Special Concern and further threats to intervene in countries experiencing religious persecution reflect a growing international concern regarding Nigeria’s deteriorating security situation.

While such attention can bring much-needed awareness to the plight of affected communities, it also underscores a significant truth: the responsibility for addressing these challenges ultimately lies with the Nigerian government. The inaction and apparent inability to protect citizens from violence and ensure justice for victims send a troubling message about the state’s commitment to safeguarding its populace. The economic ramifications of this evolving insecurity are dire. Foreign investment, a critical driver of economic growth, is deterred by the pervasive violence and instability.

Investors are wary of committing resources to a country where the risk of loss is heightened by kidnappings and attacks on businesses.Additionally, agricultural production suffers as farmers abandon their lands, fearing for their safety. The recent upsurge in insecurity coincides with a crucial harvest season, when farmers need to recoup investment to finance the next round. A decline in harvests this year would reverse recent gains of recovery in food production and exacerbate poverty, further straining the nation’s resources. Socially, the implications of failing to tackle insecurity are profound. Mistrust in government institutions grows as citizens witness a lack of effective response to violence and crime. This erosion of faith can lead to civil unrests, as frustrated populations demand accountability and action.

Moreover, the vulnerability of young people in conflict-affected areas increases the risk of radicalization, as they seek identity and purpose in extremist movements that exploit their disillusionment. The South-East crisis is peculiar in this regard. The evolving insecurity in Nigeria is not merely a national crisis; it poses a significant threat to regional stability and international interests. The convergence of banditry, terrorism, and political instability in the Sahel creates a complex security environment that requires a coordinated response. The Nigerian government, in partnership with regional allies and international partners, must adopt a comprehensive strategy that addresses the root causes of insecurity, strengthens law enforcement, and fosters community resilience.

It’s time Nigerians address all regional grievances with reconciliation and empathy, rather than with coercion. As citizens, civil society, and international stakeholders, it is crucial to advocate for effective policies that prioritize security, justice, development and inclusiveness. A collective effort is needed to ensure a safer, more stable future for Nigeria and the West African region. Ultimately, Nigeria stands at a critical juncture. The path forward demands decisive action to restore security, rebuild trust, and ensure that all citizens can live without fear. The time for complacency has passed; the stakes are too high, and the consequences of inaction are too grave. A collective effort is essential to navigate this challenging landscape and forge a safer, more stable future for Nigeria and the West African region.

By: Joseph Nwankwor

Opinion

The Girl Who Didn’t Dance

Published

6 days ago

November 19, 2025

The Tide

Quote:”

This piece is, primarily, the story of the girl who refused to dance during my first public performance as a pop musician. The event was the birthday party of Okechukwu Ogbowu at the residence of Chief Moses Nma Ogbowu at Omoku in February 1968. Secondarily, it is the story of a group of Ogba/Egbema youths who the chiefs considered rebellious and should, therefore, be watched very carefully. These two anecdotes are woven together by the story of my foray into music as a career in my youth. In 1958, I went on holidays to the home of my uncle Eze JNA Nwachuku at Ahoada. There, I heard a very strange music that tickled my preteen fancy to the point I started singing it using words I made up; I was eight. Back to Alinso Okeanu (Beach) after the holidays, the kids in the cosmopolitan community were wowed by my air and swag while singing the very strange song.

Years later, I learned the real words of the jazz classic “Hit the Road Jack” by Ray Charles. At fifteen, I was arraigned before a juvenile court in Omoku for singing a love song that contained the word “kiss” to the princess of Ogbaland at Ahia Orie market square; though discharged and acquitted, I was bound over to be of good behavior for six months. At sixteen, I got de-robed from the choir of St. Michael’s Church, Omoku for buying a guitar and audaciously changing my name from Enoch. At seventeen, I had my debut at Okechukwu’s birthday party where the girl, who is the primary focus of this piece, did not dance. During the party. I performed three songs: (1) “All My Loving” by The Beatles, which was the song that took me to the juvenile court, (2) “Midnight Hour” by Wilson “Wicked” Pickett and (3) “Please Don’t Tease” by Cliff Richard.

These songs are laden with amorous innuendos and have the words “kiss” and “love”, which were considered sacrilegious in those days. The veiled explicitness of Wicked Pickett’s lyricism didn’t help matters either; it added to the excitement, which became more palpable and the connection between crowd and artiste grew more profound, when Innocent Masi (now Dr. IA Masi mni) placed a five shillings note on my forehead. Everyone at the party virtually summersaulted on the dance floor, which was the interior balcony of Ogbowu’s house, the most beautiful house in Omoku then. The next day, the chiefs held an emergency meeting at the home of Chief S.O. Masi who was Commissioner of Onitsha Province during the First Republic; that province is now Anambra State. The single item on the agenda was the worrisome activities of the youths.

At the end of the meeting, a chief, whose name and the first book of the Gospels would tango smoothly to the rhythms and rhymes of poetry, threatened to shoot me if he ever saw me near his house with my jita. I perfectly understood his predicament; he had many pretty daughters. Poor fellow, unbeknownst to him, I was yet to know the difference between the birds and the bees. The next evening, Monday Wokocha (late Professor Addison), Gary Omo-Odi and I dared the chief in a daredevil episode that belongs in another narrative. He shot…in the air. That day, my parents seized my guitar and grounded me. Subsequently, my uncle Nwachuku whisked me off to Port Harcourt. Back to the party; yes, everyone at the party virtually summersaulted except a girl from Obite who didn’t step on the dance floor. She was slim, beautiful and quite tall for girls (even for boys) of that era; so, she stood very elegant.

Beyond the call-response greetings that characterize the socio-culture of the people of Ogba and Egbema, she was almost taciturn; she was shy and rarely spoke except when spoken to. However, she had a smile that lit up the environment as it contrasted with her ebony skin that glowed with the radiance of youth. I think Kamala Harris placed an order for that specific smile from the warehouse of the Divine on her way to this dimension. The girl who didn’t dance was Ngozi Elemele; daughter of Chief Samuel Elemele, a devout Christian, business man and highly patriotic Ogba man from Obite. Ngozi’s refusal (or was it inability?) to dance made us tease her that she has “two left legs” hence she couldn’t move them to the pulsating and compulsive rhythm of pop music. She just kept on smiling and that was an impregnable armor against our social arrows.

That calmness under relentless peer pressure earned her the moniker “Nwanjinwa” (Girl Nextdoor) amongst us; it contrasted with “Okoronwangbogbo”(prodigal son), which the vicar at St. Michael’s tagged me as he de-robed me from the choir. Those were the heady days of our lives. In 2024, a social commentator subjected the youths of Ogba/Egbema of that era to a critique. He observed that, irrespective of their youthful exuberance with a dose of mischief, that generation of Ogba/Egbema youths effectively took advantage of the ample educational opportunities provided by government immediately after the civil war. Also, he noted that that party produced four medical doctors, two lawyers, one architect, two general managers of parastatals, two chairmen of local government, three permanent secretaries, one head of service, three professors, and a deputy governor.

Concluding the analysis, the critic held that while many in the group held more than one position in the categorization, Ngozi Elemele, the girl who didn’t dance, held more top level public positions than the rest. She was Permanent Secretary, Commissioner, became Professor and is now Deputy Governor. Today, the Obite girl who didn’t dance at the party in 1968 is gracefully and elegantly waltzing at the center stage of Rivers State politics as Her Excellency, Prof Mrs. Ngozi Nma Odu DSSRS, the Deputy Governor of Rivers State. Her excellent performance in public office is a product of decades of fierce focus on the future, dedication and devotion to duty, resolute resilience, humility and simplicity; years spent climbing the arduous ladder of mainstream bureaucracy from Grade Level 08 to the apex of the pyramid, serving as Commissioner and thereafter venturing into the intellectually challenging trajectory of academics and also peaking at the apex of professorship and, eventually, clenching the coveted position of Deputy Governor of Rivers State.

Naturally, I was very delighted and humbled by the honor and privilege of being chairman of the occasion where Akabuka Community honored Her Excellency with a grand reception on October 25, 2025. It was very gratifying that her boss, His Excellency Sir Siminalaye Fubara GSSRS, supportively graced the occasion as Special Guest of Honor, a reflection of humility and simplicity in high profile office, which is uncommon in our society. Who says focus, determination, drive and hard work do not pay? They did then; they do now and they always will. Are the youths of today listening? “He that hath ears to hear, let him hear” (Matthew 11:15).

Akparikolamo!!!

By: Jason Osai