THE NAMING CEREMONY

Let me start by apologizing to anyone who was misled by the title of this piece. It is not about the culture or tradition of naming children in the various cultures of Nigeria but rather the seeming chaos caused by the re-naming of the University of Lagos.

I have never been to a music recording studio before and so I decided on May 29 to go with a friend whose friend was recording a song that day to see the workings of the studio and find out how they come about those nice pieces we so love to sway to. On the way to Isolo where the studio is situated, I checked my Blackberry (which I am so fond of) and there it was- GEJ had decided that University of Lagos would be renamed Moshood Abiola University.

A lot of people who do not see what the hue and cry is all about are of the (mis)conception that the argument is that we are saying GEJ lacks the power to change the name of the University. Far from it.

University of Lagos was established by an Act of Parliament in 1962 (the first University to be so established). Any change to its name would therefore have to also be by an Act of Parliament. In effect, there would therefore have to be an amendment of the University of Lagos Act.

In my view, GEJ has not acted ultra vires as all he has done is to notify Nigerians of the Federal Government’s intentions of re-naming the University after MKO Abiola. No proclamation that the school is now or should be referred to as Moshood Abiola University, as such has been made yet.

So I would advise that those saying GEJ has acted illegally should desist from doing so. The bulk of the arguments are sentimental and I daresay, with good reason.

That aside, I am of the view that MKO Abiola deserves way more than having an institution named after him.

I would also like to draw your attention to the fact that there already exists a Moshood Abiola Polytechnic- so why the duality? It seems to me to be a clear attempt by GEJ’s administration to score cheap points.

Also, a lot of people have been going on about the name change from University of Ife to Obafemi Awolowo University. Again, the fact is not that GEJ or the National Assembly lacks the power to change a Univerity’s name; it is however the fact that the timing is off and the procedure not too “tactful”.

In any event, it should be remembered that University of Ife was a regional University started by the late Obafemi Awolowo; it must also be remembererd that it was the military that effected the name change without any recourse to the law.

Unilag however is a creation of law and its name can only be changed through the law and not by presidential fiat.

Having said that, I do not believe that the protests embarked upon all over Lagos State by the students of the University would serve much purpose (because I even doubt that majority of them have any genuine basis upon which they are protesting the name change). Rather, what the students should be doing is meeting with their various representatives in the National Assembly and lobbying them against voting in favour of the Bill when it eventually gets to the House.

On a concluding note, I would like to state that I am a proud “Akokite” being an alumnus of University of Lagos and I am also proud to have the “University of Lagos” seal on my LL.B certificate…no offence or disrespect whatsoever to the great man, Moshood Kashimawo Olanbiwonnu Abiola, a man who lay down his life for Nigeria’s democracy…he deserved more. RIP sir.

MY LAGOS

I work and live in Lagos. To anyone who lives in or has ever been to Lagos (and by ever being I mean actually spent at least 2 weeks and traversed to some extent its length and breadth), that simple, straight forward statement connotes quite a lot.

It implies that I spring from sleep/bed every morning. It is almost somewhat an unwritten, unspoken, untaught taboo (that somehow finds its way into the subconscious of Lagosians) for one to take the time to get out of bed…it is a commandment - “woe betide ye in Lagos who gradually returneth from dreamland”; it also implies that I do pretty much everything hurriedly- at least above the pace at which any other average (and dare I say, normal) human would.

It also connotes the fact that I come across and experience new wonders everyday- and don’t even get me started on that one! Seven wonders of the world huh? Yeah right! You haven’t lived in Lagos!

The fact that I live in Lagos has made my ears rather immune to the noise emanating from loudspeakers somewhat strategically placed to deliberately force you to reckon with their sounds knowing that the entire body system of the Lagosian has been programmed to successfully block out its screams.

The men and women in the speakers spit various sounds and words covering pretty much every topic.

I hear various genres of music from musicians both ancient and modern (some to which, I must confess, I sway to in the privacy of my mind);

Then there are then the “messages” and “prophecies” of various men and women of God who never cease to remind me of the fact that givers never lack (citing their lives as the case in point), the fact that I should keep on hoping and believing everything will be okay (again citing their own lives as examples), that I should continue to have faith (and therefore not question anything thrown at me whether physical or spiritual), the reminder that heaven is available and is the ultimate reward of those who believe; and of course, the inescapable reminder of the wrath of hell fire which inadvertently practically chases all who hear to do the bidding of their “pastors”(after all, a word or in this case a thousand, is enough for the wise)!

Then of course there is the ever present bellow of the sweat-covered, tooth-missing, scar-faced, pants-sagging, pidgin-englished conductors (which makes me wonder what would become of us in the event that we didn’t have them to thank for the “organization” they bring to the Lagos traffic system) who scream the various destinations of their black-n-yellow “containers” for buses and who practically pull you into the “bus” going the route you probably have never had reason to contemplate or tread for any reason…yet (its Lagos- at some point we always have to get to “that other end”).

There is also no failing to come across the occasional “Do you know who I am?”, the “Do you know who you are talking to?” which usually goes with is twin brother, the “I will show you today” (which again makes me ponder- do these people walk around with an entourage of “fans” going by the rapid speed at which “spectators” and “supporters” gather upon catching the slightest sound of the opening statement- the “Why you match me like that? You no fit to say sorry”).

The fact that in the midst of all this, I woke, nay- sprang, from bed as early as 4.30am, to get to work on time, attend meetings or whatever else requires me to justify my pay at the end of the month, close not-too-late, (depends on what you consider ‘late’), sit in traffic, get home at about 9.30pm, find something to eat (my earlier resolution to “have dinner before 7pm tossed out the window since I am on the road at that time), get things organized and ready for work tomorrow and battle my way to sleep through the valley of the shadow of “night vigils” (which again makes me wonder -you must reckon by now that I wonder quite a lot- why I have to hold a vigil with a church via its loud speakers. If I wanted to be at the vigil I would BE there!) and then wake again before even the cock crows (imagine if I waited for the cock to crow like my ancestors did before rousing from sleep- I do not reckon I would be through answering all the punctuality queries by now)!

The crazy thing however is that in the midst of all this seeming lunacy, there are the intermittent flashes of sanity and the good times; the times of the laughter, fun and freedom Lagos offers; the times when we Lagosians when not hating one another are looking out for one another; and these sane, neighbourly moments make me see sense in the saying that “one must accept the rose along with its thorns”.

I have friends who have visited Lagos and have sworn never to return but the truth be told, this is the Lagos I was born in, that I grew up in and have fun childhood memories of.

It is the home that I know and that has given me all I have and know, both good and bad.

It is the Lagos that I love.

This is Lagos…MY Lagos.