Opinion

How Far Can APC Go?

Published

13 years ago

February 13, 2013

Wednesday, last week, a ‘redemption’ song ‘filtered out’ from the opposition camp. Four major political parties in Nigeria announced their coming together to form a mega party known as the All Progressive Congress (APC). Coming at a time when most Nigerians yearn for positive change, the fusion of Action Congress of Nigeria (ACN), Congress for Progressive, Change (CPC), All Nigeria Peoples Party (ANPP) and a faction of All Progressives Grand Alliance (APGA) under one big, formidable platform is a welcome development.

The merger particularly inspires hope of a better democracy, given the fact that Nigeria has, for almost 14 years now, been quaking under the feet of one political potentate. The opposition itself must have come to terms with the reality that it takes more than a piece of broom to sweep off unwanted garbage. But it is too early to dance to the redemption song. It will be too presumptuous to toast to a mere merger of political parties that are fractured by ideological differences, more so when previous attempts at mergers and alliances by these parties had fizzled at the altar of ego and individual ambitions.

The only elixir that stirs hope of a merger success is the timing. Unlike previous merger dances which were marred by faulty steps, ill-timing and half-heartedness, the opposition, this time, has indicated its preparedness to give the ruling PDP a battle of its life, well ahead of 2015 elections. Even when the PDP appears unruffled and cavalier to the merger threat, as indicated by the sneering posture of its National Chairman, Alhaji Bamanga Tukur, who likens the PDP to the diminutive Argentine soccer dynamo, Lionel Mesi, there is no pretending that the PDP is jolted by the formation of the APC.

PDP’s continued amazing confidence is logical and understandable, however. The party has, in four successive elections, since 1999, maintained its firm grip on the centre and the majority of States. It would therefore be cowardly for the ruling behemoth to frighten away its ego just like that.

It is good that the opposition has finally realised that the PDP could govern for 60 years unless it finds a way to dislodge it from power. But APC would fail in assuaging the fears of Nigerian masses if its mission is to edge out the monolithic PDP at the centre with the sole purpose of sharing the bounteous national cake among its members as we are currently witnessing under the PDP government.

Again, for APC to conquer the centre, it must be better structured, as well as stand on a higher moral pedestal in terms of mission and vision. I say this because the PDP is unlikely to concede the 2015 elections, especially the presidency to the opposition. The party, in spite of its present fractious state, is more organised, more focused and more strong-minded in pursuit of its mission than the opposition. Knowing the implications of losing the centre to the APC, the PDP leaders are likely to resolve the civil war that is currently rocking the party before the 2015 elections. The sudden appearance of former President Olusegun Obasanjo at the Aso Villa chapel last week Sunday (February 3) praying fervently for Nigeria and his political godson, President Goodluck Jonathan with whom he has been at daggers’ drawn for sometime now, was a clear manifestation of the PDP’s ability to reconcile itself against common enemies, at every point in time. This is one attribute that is lacking in the opposition.

This is not to endorse the PDP as a party to win the 2015 elections; neither is it meant to pass a vote of confidence on the ruling behemoth. The Nigerian State, to say the least, has maintained a steady decline under the PDP’s watch since 1999. This accounts largely for the persistent yearnings for change of government by many Nigerians. But which party will give that positive change is a question that begs for urgent answer.

The APC, at least for now, is a four-in-one political party. And given the antecedent posturing of the owners of the four parties that coalesced into that bigger conurbation, it will be self-delusive for APC to foreclose ideological conflicts, ego posturing and crave for political relevance and dominance within its rank. How the APC intends to rise above these brigandages remains a litmus test.

But the APC should be reminded that what differentiates true progressives from other conurbations is their ideology and vision of purposefulness and enduring exceptionalism, and not the sickening affection for power acquisition. For almost 14 years, the ruling PDP and the opposition have left no one in doubt that they have a sickening affection for power at all cost. It is therefore left for the infant APC to prove that it is not a chip off the old block, nor a pot calling kettle black.

The opposition party would not only betray its progressive posturing but would also lose the sympathy of the electorate if it approaches 2015 elections with the hegemonic and bourgeoisie tendencies of the ruling PDP.

Boye Salau

Opinion

Dark Side Of Digital Distractions

Published

2 days 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

Opinion

Time To Celebrate My Teacher

Published

2 days ago

October 6, 2025

The Tide

Quote:” Not everyone gets the chance to say thank you to the teacher who made the difference. Some have moved on. Some have passed on. But their influence lives on in every book written, business started, problem solved, or student mentored by someone they once taught”

Every year on October 5th, the world pauses to honor a group of individuals who shape the future with nothing more than a whiteboard marker, a patient voice, and an unshakeable belief in potential: teachers. World Teachers’ Day is more than just a date on the calendar—it is a reminder of the quiet, powerful influence educators have in shaping lives, societies, and futures. For many, the day evokes memories of classrooms filled with chalk dust, books stacked high, and a steady presence at the front of the room guiding lessons, asking questions, and waiting—always waiting—for that lightbulb moment in a student’s eyes. While every teacher leaves a mark, there’s often one who makes a deeper impression. One who doesn’t just teach but transforms. For me, that teacher was Mrs. Okoro.I met Mrs. Okoro in Junior Secondary School Two.

I remember walking into her English Literature class with the usual mixture of adolescent apathy and anxiety. English had always been a subject I tolerated rather than loved. To me, it was a series of essays, comprehension passages, and exam questions about metaphors and similes that seemed more confusing than meaningful. But Mrs. Okoro didn’t teach English. She lived it. She had a way of stepping into the classroom like a performer stepping onto a stage. Her voice carried energy, her expressions demanded attention, and her passion was infectious. Within weeks, I found myself looking forward to her classes—not because I suddenly loved Shakespeare or Chinua Achebe, but because I saw in her someone who believed in what she was teaching, and more importantly, someone who believed in me. The beauty of an exceptional teacher lies not in how much they know, but in how deeply they care.

Mrs. Okoro had an eye for those students who tried to stay invisible. I was one of them—never the loudest, rarely the top of the class, often unsure of my own voice. But she noticed me. One afternoon, after returning our essays, she held mine up—not to ridicule, but to read it aloud to the class. My heart pounded as she read my words, giving them life and rhythm. When she finished, she looked at me and said, “There’s a writer in you. You just need to let them out.”It was the first time someone outside my family had validated my potential in such a specific, personal way. That one comment, simple as it was, sparked something in me that would never fade. From that moment, I started writing more. I filled journals with stories and poems. I volunteered to read aloud in class. I even entered a school writing competition—and won.

World Teachers’ Day celebrates the efforts of educators around the globe who go beyond teaching curriculum to nurturing character. That was Mrs. Okoro in every sense. She taught us about empathy through literature, helping us connect to characters from different backgrounds, cultures, and histories. She encouraged debate, critical thinking, and respectful disagreement—skills we would come to rely on far beyond the walls of that classroom. She also taught us grace. I remember once when a student mocked another’s reading aloud. Mrs. Okoro stopped the class, not with anger, but with a calm that silenced the room. “We don’t laugh at people trying,” she said. “Trying is where learning begins.” It was a simple statement, but the dignity she afforded every student left a lasting impact. It is often said that teaching is the profession that creates all other professions.

That may sound like a slogan, but it’s true in the most personal of ways. Without teachers like Mrs. Okoro, I might never have found the confidence to write, to speak, or to believe that my ideas mattered. Today, I write professionally. I speak at conferences. I mentor others. But behind every achievement is the echo of a teacher who once said, “There’s a writer in you.” Imagine that: a single sentence, spoken in a secondary school classroom years ago, setting off a chain of events that would define the trajectory of a life. That is the power of teachers. World Teachers’ Day, established by UNESCO in 1994, aims to commemorate the adoption of the 1966 ILO/UNESCO Recommendation concerning the Status of Teachers. It is a day to advocate for the rights and responsibilities of teachers and to appreciate their essential contributions to education and development.

But beyond the global observance, it is also a deeply personal day for many. It is a day to reflect on the individuals who, in their own unique ways, lit the path ahead for us when we couldn’t see it ourselves. Not everyone gets the chance to say thank you to the teacher who made the difference. Some have moved on. Some have passed on. But their influence lives on in every book written, business started, problem solved, or student mentored by someone they once taught. If your teacher is still around, consider writing them a letter, sending them an email, or simply letting them know the role they played in your story. If they’re not, honor them by being the kind of person they believed you could be—and by supporting teachers around you who are trying to do the same for others.

World Teachers’ Day is not just about celebrating teachers in general, but also about recognizing your teacher—the one who changed the way you saw yourself. For me, that teacher was Mrs. Okoro. Her name might not appear in the pages of history books, but in the story of my life, she’s a chapter I will always return to. October 5, may have come and gone, it should continue to remind us of the need to celebrate our teaches, remember their words, share their impacts, and where possible, be that kind of light for someone else.

By: Sylvia ThankGod-Amadi

Opinion

184 Days of the Locust in Rivers State

Published

1 week ago

September 29, 2025

The Tide

Quote:”Sadly, what Rivers State experienced during the emergency rule was more than the devastating effects of a plague of locusts. The tragedy is that the “alien” invasion left a developmentally retarded landscape and a psychologically traumatized people in its wake.”

Locusts are infamous for their devastating impact on agriculture and food security, especially when they enter their gregarious phase. At this stage, they form large, migratory swarms and move with rapid speed, covering up to 150 kilometers in a day. As a result, they strike without warning and make early control very difficult. One locust can eat the equivalent of its body weight in plant materials daily. Its diet includes wheat, maize, rice, fruits, vegetables, and even tree leaves. Locust outbreaks can cripple subsistence farming communities and cause damage that could lead to food shortages, economic losses, and humanitarian crises. Adjudged one of nature’s shapeshifters, the locus leaves a devastated landscape in its wake. The declaration of state of emergency in Rivers State from March 18 to September 17, 2025, crippled the otherwise smooth-functioning bureaucratic institutions and many aspects of life in the state.

The first salvo, which heralded the “locust effect” was the appropriation of N30bn to acquire gunboats. Rivers people wondered aloud if their State had a navy or was at war. Again, N22bn was expended on installing a new close circuit television (CCTV) in a Government House that already had an effectively functional CCTV. Regarding this, Kenneth Okonkwo jocularly asked if they are “trying to see the [genitals] of an ant”. That was an anomaly given the fact that the administration was a stopgap measure. Not a few Rivers people questioned the motive behind the installation, in view of the sensitivity of security; this fact remains very worrisome. Like the shape-shifting locust, the Sole Administrator (SOLAD) consistently shifted from the authoritarianism of military demeanor to the multi-tongued man-of-many-words mien of politicians.

Between these two behavioral extremities of the SOLAD, Rivers people groped in the dark and lived in confusion; they ached from the antics of an admix of “a bird of passage” and “soldier of fortune” who responded only to directives from his masters voice from a distant land. Consequently, non-indigenes began making decisions for Rivers State: Bola Tinubu (Lagos State), Godswill Akpabio (Akwa Ibom), Tajudeen Abass (Kaduna State) and Kudirat Kekere-Ekun (Lagos State). The SOLAD’s mindset became akin to that of an imperial officer assigned to milk a colonial outpost. Resultantly, a non-indigene was appointed to the sensitive position of Chairman, Rivers State Electoral Commission; the position of Chief of Staff went to another non-indigene and, and, and. In the end, it was a classical case of two brothers fighting over inheritance and a stranger stealthily steals it.

In line with the “imperial officer” metaphor, the SOLAD arrogantly and audaciously said that he is not accountable to anybody other than President Tinubu. Incidentally and quite tragically, when asked how the days of the plague will affect the people of Rivers State, one of the SOLAD’s masters gutturally bellowed thus: “To hell with them”. To hell with Rivers people?!! Of course, subsequently, salaries were delayed till the 34th or later in the months. As at September 18 when the days of the locust ended, many workers and pensioners were not paid for August thereby extending the month of August beyond 49 days. This was a sad reminder of the grueling yesteryears of agony occasioned by bureaucratic bottlenecks in salary administration, organizational recklessness and systematized insensitivity to the plight of the people.

In what Rivers people viewed as an adventure of “Alibaba and the Forty Thieves”, the Senate of the Federal Republic approved a budget of a whopping N1.48 trillion for an emergency rule of six months. A clear case of anomalous overreach and an outrage given the fact that the suspended governor was vilified for operating a budget approved by a factional section of the house. Even with the humongous budget, projects across the state were abandoned thereby affecting the economy of the state negatively. Meanwhile, Reuben Abati informs that “over N400bn” was spent within the days of the locust. On September 5, the agony of the ignominious experience of going on holiday without salary, a phenomenon that stopped when Fubara ascended the position of Governor of Rivers State, raised its ugly head again and Rivers people celebrated Id el Maulud empty handed. In other words, Rivers people celebrated “Sallah without Salary”.

Soothingly, the Rivers State House of Assembly has expressed the intention of probing the finances of the State during the emergency rule. Whether anything positive will come out of it is another matter. For Abati, “Ibok Ette Ibas must be prepared to give proper account”. Here is a call to duty for civic groups in Rivers State. Sadly, what Rivers State experienced during the emergency rule was more than the devastating effects of a plague of locusts. The tragedy is that the “alien” invasion left a developmentally retarded landscape and a psychologically traumatized people in its wake. Certainly, March 18 to September 17, 2025 has gone down in the history of Rivers State as 184 days of the locust. No wonder Dr. Nnamdi Azikiwe said that “Nigeria’s problem is not the absence of resources, but the presence of too many resourceful thieves”. Again, skeptical of the then novel concept of democracy, Socrates projected that: “thieves and fraudsters will want important government functions, and democracy will give it to them…when they finally democratically take authority…there will be worse dictatorship than in the time of any monarchy or oligarchy”.

It is however, consoling that, following his reinstatement on September 18, Governor Fubara “directed the immediate payment of pensioners August salary”. Regarding this directive, an author asserts that “This swift action underscores Fubara’s commitment to the welfare of employees and ensuring financial accountability in the state”. What there is to take home from the swiftness of this action is that Fubara is not only simple and humble, he harbors a humane heart. Doubtlessly, the “grasses” of Rivers State have been brutalized and traumatized in the supremacy fight between two elephants. The prayer now is that the actors in the ring and those in the wings, including the millions of cheerleaders on both sides of the amphitheater, should sheath their swords.

By: Jason Osai