Opinion

Immortality Of Dan Ian

Published

4 years ago

January 6, 2022

The early 1970s was a period of introspection, taking stock and pondering the way forward in Nigeria, east of the Niger. This was particularly so for those who came out of the Nigerian Civil War utterly devastated, especially those in their late teens and twenties.
Barely out of high school, this bracket of the society saw war and the resultant human carnage. Music provided them a socio-economic safety valve and an avenue for self-expression to start life anew. Therefore, they ventured into it in droves, took the nation by storm and rock groups and highlife bands sprouted from every nook and cranny of Nigeria, east of the Niger.
Posting on the platform of Music Elders Forum (MEF), Kingsley Anyanwu offers that “young men consoled the populace, triggering the most powerful musical renaissance in the continent in the 1970s.” It was this cultural renaissance and socio-psychological setting that birthed “Fuel for Love”. Written and delivered by Dan Ian, the song blazed the trail of recording.
“Fuel for Love” came in the early postwar years when people were grappling with the harrowing economic, emotional and psychological effects of defeat. Within what was Biafra, the musically talented youth took shelter under their instruments and provided entertainment to a people under siege. At the cessation of hostilities, unemployment drove them to fall back to the same instruments to make a living. This tribute draws from my experience with Dan and the evergreen song “Fuel for Love”.
Jay-U (Justus Nnakwe) and I made a pair to behold, sharing one microphone on stage; he on rhythm guitar and I on bass for The Silhouettes led by ace guitarist, Goddy Oku. Following our performance at a wedding in Ihiala, Dan visited us at Biafra Officers Training School (BOTS) located at Bishop Shanaham College, Orlu.
Unbeknownst to Goddy, Dan came to poach us for The Wings, which he conceived for Biafra Air Force (BAF), Ihioma. We found the idea alluring and the name appealing; it was, obviously, appropriate for BAF. However, out of loyalty to Goddy and the tight knit sibling-like friendship we had developed with him, we declined; more so, we felt very secure at BOTS and didn’t want to dive into unknown waters in view of military conscriptions that had commenced. That was in 1968, during the civil war.
In a 1974 performance interview on WKMS TV (the Radio/TV station of my alma mater) in Murray, Kentucky, USA, I was asked to do some Nigerian songs. I did Rex Lawson’s “Akaso Inyingi”, Victor Uwaifo’s “JJC” and ended the performance with Dan’s “Fuel for Love”. While the anchor spoke glowingly about the Lawson and Uwaifo songs, she dwelt lengthily on “Fuel for Love”. She was impressed by the conceptualisation of kiss as fuel for love. She agreed that kiss is, in actuality, the most potent fuel for love.
A year ago, I attended the 70th birthday of a childhood friend, Sonny Ifi. In the middle of my congratulatory message, one of the MCs stepped up the stage and handed me a guitar, saying that the celebrant requested I sing a song.
After a brief protestation, I took the guitar, did a few riffs in the rock tradition and was confused as to what to play knowing that, being of old school, I may not be able to play what the crowd knows. So, I did Led Zeppelin’s “Thank You”, which, expectedly, did not hit the target. Then, I did Dave Mason’s “Feeling Alright”, and Edgar Winter’s “Tobacco Road”; these didn’t connect either. Cornered, I came home and did the introductory riff of Dan’s “Fuel for Love” and the crowd erupted in applause. At the end of the song, I bowed out while the ovation was high.
Again, beyond the multiplicity of holidays provided by Christianity and Islam, students dive in and out the books and surface with inconceivable reasons not to be in class: rag day, SUG day, cultural day etc. The latest is Ol’ School Day. Driving out of campus (Rivers State University) one day this year, I noticed many students adorned in apparels of the 70s: bellbottomed hipsters, onyemmanya caps, raffia bags etc. Excitedly, I pulled over and inquired; it was Ol’ School Day.
Sighting a student playing guitar, I stepped out of the car, walked to the student, and politely requested the guitar. With confusion boldly written on his face, he handed me the guitar. “Hey! Professor, you can play jita!?” A female voice rang out from the motley crowd. I acknowledged, knowing that connecting with the crowd is fundamental in public performance; it eases the nerves.
Thereafter, I briefly strummed the guitar to ensure it is tuned, did a few rock riffs to steady my hands, and immediately swung into “Fuel for Love”. I tell you, it’s been the talk of the university ever since and my God-given gift of being at the receiving end of sexual harassment has exacerbated. Over the years, “Fuel for Love” has been a staple in the imitative repertoire of my public performances in my commitment to hang on to my roots in music, my primary constituency.
The last time Dan and I saw, he was full of lamentation; “Fuel for Love” was in the air everywhere; yet, no royalties; he was barely making a living. And that’s the tragic reality of musicianship in Nigeria. Though Dan Ian’s remains was committed to Mother Earth in Umuezeawa, Ihiala, on November 26, 2021, he will live forever through the resilience and timelessness of ‘Fuel for Love’, and that is immortality for man.
Adieu Dan.

By: Jason Osai
Osai is an associate professor in the Rivers State University, Port Harcourt.

Opinion

Gridlock at the Gates

Published

2 days 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

2 days 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