In The Land Of Eyitu

By Chuks OLUIGBO 

The flight from Lagos to Benin took roughly 45 minutes. After a little delay on the airport road, the airport taxi hit the Benin-Onitsha Expressway. In the next hour and a half, we melted into the ‘big heart’ of Asaba, the capital of oil-rich Delta State, and into the prime hospitality it has on offer.

 

As we took a U-turn and branched off the expressway into Summit Road (constructed by the James Ibori administration), a panoramic view of the unfolding scenery gave me one thought: ‘Asaba has put its feet strongly on the ground and is making a bold statement in Nigeria’s hospitality industry’. Indeed, it may be overtaking Port Harcourt as the hospitality capital of South-South Nigeria. Why? Numerous new hotels (and associated restaurants, bars and night clubs) have sprung up, many of them tastefully built.

But while Summit Road gave me a thought, a drive around Asaba gave me conviction. There was not an iota of doubt anymore. Asaba has included its name in the hospitality map of Nigeria. The newly-built Asaba airport, which was opened to business in 2011, is no doubt giving a boost to this development.

My destination itself blew my mind: Grand Hotel Convention Centre and Resort Asaba situated on Nnebisi Road, venue of the Nigerian edition of Sokka International Customers’ Forum, the main reason for my trip. The splendour of the hotel’s décor, the ever present quality linked to true elegance gave a refined atmosphere of luxury.

Grand’s other name is ‘Paradise on the River Niger’, and you may wonder why, but you will stop wondering the moment you walk down its coconut-lined alley and cross over to its Sports Lounge and Jetty, where you can dip your feet into the waters of the mighty Niger as well as have a very clear view of much of the river’s stretch. Grand practically sits on the edge of the Niger; or, put differently, it is nestled between the beautiful river coast of the Niger and the impressive town of Asaba.

Officially opened to business on January 17, 2002 by Olusegun Obasanjo, then president of Nigeria, Grand Hotel offers the highest international standards. Geoff Peters and Horst Braun (Carlton representatives) who were on the trip with us said that much. Apart from its assorted range of lodges, the hotel offers concierge desk, guest relations including car hire service, 24-hour valet parking, laundry and valet service, express check-in and check-out, fully equipped business centre, doctor on call, guaranteed all-round security, and so on. Other attractions include the Grand galleria (café, bar and deli), the open air theatre, the exquisite swimming pool (and poolside bar), etc, plus 24-hour banking services.

Other hotels in the city include Orchid Hotels (DBS Road), which is competing seriously with Grand; Best Garden Hotels, Monalisa Guest House, Lone Palms Hotels, Enotel, Vinelo Hotel, Peoples’ Club Guest Inn, Delicia Hotel (Ezenei Avenue); Nelrose Hotel (Government House Road); Leisure Homes (Anwai-Illah Expressway); Larryville, Calvary Hotels (Uda Layout); Deos Hotel, Holiday Hotel (Nnebisi Road); Garentiti Apartment (Okpanam Road); Sovitel Hotel (Nduka Osadebay Street, off Ezenei Avenue), and numerous others.

Exclusive restaurants in the city include Fish World, Giddy’s Place, African Cuisine, Paparazzi, (Anwai Road); Good Shepherd (Ogbuagueze), and many more.

But beyond hospitality, Asaba also has a very interesting legend about Eyitu, whom my poet friend, Sylvester Nwokedi, calls ‘Jesus of Asaba’ in a poem of the same title. According to the legend, at a time in the history of Asaba, the river that supplied the people with drinking water dried up and they were at death’s door due to the ensuing drought. The oracle divined that it was only a virgin’s sacrifice that would save the situation. Eyitu, described as the beauty of Asaba, daughter of Ojife and granddaughter of Nnebisi (after whom a major road in Asaba today is named), in her first decade on earth, volunteered herself and became the sole sacrifice that saved the people of Asaba. Her mother, Ojife, buried her alive as a sacrifice so that Asaba people would not die of thirst. Eyitu thus became a salvific river that saved waterless Asaba.

Asaba, also called Ahaba, a short form of ‘Ahabagom’ (‘I have chosen well’), a quote from the founding father of Asaba, has the nickname of Ani Mmili, meaning the land of water. According to the 2006 census, the city has an estimated population of 149,603. It is strategically located on a hill at the western edge of the majestic River Niger and forms a connector between western, eastern and northern Nigeria through the River Niger from the north and via the Asaba Niger Bridge, an east-west link and a Nigeria landmark.

Founded in 1884, Asaba was once the colonial capital of the Southern Nigeria Protectorate. It hosted the Royal Niger Company, which the British authorities set up to stimulate trade and the exportation of goods to England. The town is ruled by a monarch, the Asagba of Asaba, who is the traditional head. The present Asagba is Obi Joseph Chike Edozien, a professor emeritus of the University of North Carolina. He is the 13th in line of succession.

In The Eze Uzu’s Enclave

By Chuks OLUIGBO

Whichever part of the country you are coming from, it is accessible by road from the Asaba or Enugu airport. You can either use the Enugu-Onitsha Expressway or take the inland routes. It doesn’t matter. Awka, the capital of Anambra State and homeland of the great smiths, is ever ready to welcome you with open arms.

Strategically located mid-way between the two big cities of Onitsha and Enugu, Awka has grown from just a little town renowned only for its smithing activities to a name to be reckoned with in the business of hospitality in Nigeria.

Though it was an administrative centre for the colonial authorities, Awka’s rise to its present prominence began in 1991 when the old Anambra State, comprising the present-day Anambra, Enugu, and parts of Ebonyi State, with its capital at Enugu, was split into Anambra and Enugu States. Anambra itself was originally part of the old East Central State, consisting of the five states of what is now known as South-Eastern Nigeria. In 1976, the old East Central State was split into Imo and Anambra States, and both existed side by side until 1991 when the military administration of Ibrahim Babangida created additional states in Nigeria, taking away Enugu from old Anambra.

With this development, Enugu city automatically became the capital of the newly created Enugu State, while Awka became the capital of the new Anambra State. This new status greatly buoyed the emergence of Awka as a city. In less than no time, individuals, businesses, and corporate organisations began to cluster there. With this too, Awka instantly became an ancillary town to the commercial cities of Onitsha, Nnewi, and even Enugu.

Development attracts further development. So it was that with the congregation of individual and corporate businesses, civil servants, as well as financial institutions in Awka, the hospitality industry too began to boom. As workers and other individuals within Awka and its immediate environs, plus numerous other people who had one or two businesses to transact, needed places to relax, or just to pass the night in the case of travellers, the emerging hospitality industry in Awka came handy to provide these needs.

So, from just a few manageable guest houses in 1991, Awka has grown in leaps and bounds. Today, virtually every corner of the city is dotted with gigantic structures as hotels, guest houses and suites, most of which boast of state-of-the-art facilities like tastefully-furnished rooms, swimming pools and exquisite pool sides, other recreation facilities like lawn tennis pitch, gym and aerobics equipment, amusement park for kids, table tennis and volleyball pitch, among others. Many of them also have nite-clubbing facilities for night crawlers.

The town currently has over fifteen 3-star hotels, among which are Barnhill Resort, Choice Hotel, Cosmila Suites and Hotel, Finotel Classic Hotel, Golphins Suites and Hotels, Marble Arch Hotels, De Olde English Hotel, Parktonian Hotel, Queen’s Suites Hotel, Suncity Exclusive Hotel, and Tourist Gardens Hotel.

Other hotels in the city include Mano Hotel, De Exchequers Hotel, King David Garden and Suites, Hyton Hotels, Mercy-En Hotels, De Limit Hotels and Suites, Irish Garden Suites, White View Hotel, Palos Verdes Hotel, Brownsville Hotel and Suites, Numac Hotels Limited, Swiss Cottage Holiday Inn, Century Guest House, Lake View Rendezvous, Grand Riviera Hotel, Malikwu Suites and Spa, Desires and Leisure Hotels Limited, J.Jumac Hotels and Towers, Basino Hotels and Tourist Village, among others.

There are also a good number of fast food joints and exquisite kitchens that serve a variety of mouth-watering African, continental and Oriental dishes; numerous local delicacies like Nkwobi, Isiewu, Ugba, Abacha, and so on; as well as assorted drinks, including unadulterated nkwu enu (fresh palm wine). These include Phronesia African Kitchen, Crunchies Fried Chicken, Next Level Restaurant and Bar, MacDons Fast Foods, Bejoy Centre Point, Gelly’s Garden, Mr Biggs, Doris Kitchen, Bamboo Garden, etc. These joints also provide excellent gardens and relaxation spots.

Several new businesses have equally erected fascinating new buildings that have largely changed the face of Awka city. And there is no doubt that the recent recognition of Anambra as an oil producing state by the Federal Government will provide an added impetus.

Awka also enjoys some level of serenity, without the regular do-or-die hustle and bustle of many a Nigerian city. For this reason, it serves as a buffer zone for businessmen, corporate individuals and others resident in the rather noisome commercial and industrial cities of Onitsha, Nnewi and Enugu, other states of the South-East, as well as other parts of Nigeria.

Furthermore, the city’s central location makes it a stopover for tourists who want to visit such popular attractions as the ancient town of Nri (the cradle of Nri Civilisation and the famed spiritual homeland of the Igbos), the Ogbunike Cave, the Agulu Lake, the Igboukwu archaeological site, and many others, as well as the Nanka, Oko and Ekwulobia erosion sites.

Awka (a corruption of the Igbo Ọka), is one of the earliest settlements in the densely populated Igbo heartland. The Nri-Awka axis is one of the areas in Igboland described as “the Igbo centre or core”, that is, one of the earliest Igbo settlements from where waves of secondary migrations took off to other Igbo areas.

Awka traditional society was famous for metal working and its blacksmiths were prized throughout Igboland and beyond for making farming implements, guns and household tools. Adiele Afigbo, the late ‘doyen of Igbo history’, in his Ropes of Sand: Studies in Igbo History and Culture, described the Awka as smiths and oracular agents.

Awka is currently divided into two local government areas – Awka North and Awka South. But even though it has adapted to the republican system, the city still preserves traditional systems of governance. Its paramount cultural ruler, the Eze Uzu, is elected by all Ozo titled men by rotation amongst different villages. The current Eze Uzu (since 1999) is Obi Gibson Nwosu, one of the first recruits for the Nigerian Air Force and a former head of Air Traffic Operations for the Biafra Air Force, the Lusaka International Airport and the Zambian Air Service Training Institute (ZASTI).

The city has a large student community as it hosts two universities – Nnamdi Azikiwe University and Paul University. Its largest market is Eke Awka.

Awka’s major cultural attraction is the Imo-Oka Festival, a weeklong festival of masquerades and dances usually held in May (at the beginning of the farming season). The festival honours a female deity who, it is hoped, would make the land fertile and produce bountiful yields. The festival showcases a variety of masquerades (mmanwu) believed to represent the spirits of Awka ancestors who emerge from the land of the dead.

Awka is also the hometown of the late Kenneth Onwuka Dike, renowned professor of History and first Nigerian vice-chancellor of the University of Ibadan, who, alongside S. O. Biobaku, pioneered and popularised the use of oral traditions as an authentic source in the reconstruction of the African past, thereby debunking the claims of people like Hugh Trevor-Roper that Africa has no history except the history of European activities in Africa.

The Education Nigeria Needs

By Chuks OLUIGBO

Since the news broke that 13,000 Nigerian graduates, including masters and PhD holders, applied for Aliko Dangote’s truck driving job, I’ve read several articles on the matter. Virtually all the writers concluded that the standard of education in the country has fallen (some say “is falling”). I might agree with their conclusion, but I totally disagree with their premise. Let me elaborate by quoting briefly from some of the articles.

Here is Uche Ezechukwu writing on his facebook wall: “A PhD holder who applies to become a driver is a loser for life. I can excuse the first degree holder of the current time because many of them cannot write a correct paragraph anyway.”

In an article “Reflections on graduate unemployment in Nigeria”, Suraj Oyewale wrote: “I interact with a number of Nigerian graduates on daily basis and I find appalling the quality of youths that parade themselves as graduates today.... I know many other graduates, including PhD holders, who struggle to write application letters.”

In an earlier article entitled “Whither Nigerian education?” Mohammed Dahiru Aminu had told the story of an economics graduate of a Nigerian university who lost a job offer because he couldn’t write an application letter.

Now, sincerely speaking, what’s the parameter for measuring the quality of education a graduate has obtained? The graduate’s written and spoken English skills? Let’s put it another way: why do people go to the university? To learn how to speak and write English Language? For God’s sake, how can someone spend five years in the university studying a course as practical as Electrical Engineering, and rather than test his knowledge of handling wires and such stuffs, we ask him to write an application letter, and because he can’t write like a professor of English, we conclude that his five years in the university were wasted years? Perhaps we still think we’re training clerks and office boys and girls.

I think our education system lays too much emphasis on theories and too little on practical usable skills. In “Nigeria’s Ball-Point Pen Education”, an article I did many years ago based on my impression on two books I read – Walter Rodney’s How Europe Underdeveloped Africa (particularly the sub-chapter entitled “Education for Underdevelopment”) and Rene Dumont’s False Start in Africa (where Dumont, a French professor of Agronomy who dedicated his life to research on rural development in Third World economies, made a striking remark that “if your sister goes to school, you will have nothing to eat but ball-point pen”), I had suggested that candidates applying for university degrees be made to pass through a one- or two-year skill acquisition scheme before they are admitted to read any course of their choice.

The thing is we tend to underestimate skill acquisition in this country, but I will illustrate the need with just one example. Kemi, a colleague during the one-year NYSC programme, studied English at Obafemi Awolowo University, Ile-Ife. But in spite of having studied English, Kemi knew what she wanted in life. I don’t know how she started, but what I know is that she came to NYSC with her sewing machine, and throughout the service year, she was busy making money from fellow female corps members who brought materials for her to sew. At the end of the service year, Kemi made one remark that stuck: “At least now I’ve enough money to rent a shop in Lagos and run my business.” With that, you didn’t need to be told she knew where she was headed. Today, her Addurrah House of Creations might not have won international fashion laurels, but it’s putting food on her table, providing livelihoods for many young Nigerians, and she doesn’t have to be threatened with sack each time she makes a human mistake. She’s her own boss, and she’s no less a graduate for that.

But while experts continue to lament the skill gap in Nigeria (The bulk of those involved in the various aspects of building construction – carpentry, iron works, bricklaying, etc – in many construction sites across the country are Ghanaians, Beninois, Togolese and nationals of Nigeria’s other neighbours.), here we are talking about quality of English Language – a second language for that matter – spoken and written by our graduates. I think we need to get more practical and forget this grammar thing. The Chinese, Japanese and Koreans don’t have to speak and write Queens English before they can produce all the stuffs we use so gleefully in our homes.

Back at the University of Nigeria, Nsukka, there was this guy in the Department of Mechanical Engineering whom we were told was managing to pass his courses; yet he was a guru in practicals. I didn’t have to be told, I saw it with my own eyes: the guy constructed a ‘car’ that he drove around the campus, a feat that marvelled even his professors. Now if you would judge such a person based on his spoken or written English, or even based on his performance in classroom theories, imagine how wrong you’d be.

There may be some merit in the argument that there is a minimal standard of expression expected of someone who calls himself or herself a graduate of a Nigerian university – after all, is credit pass in English Language not a compulsory criterion for university admission? – yet, it must be stated clearly that benchmarking the quality of education on this sole factor is faulty. If a graduate of English Language is judged based on the quality of grammar he speaks and writes, no qualms. But extending same to other professions is what I think is wrong.

Then there is another point to be made. Speaking or writing good English is not a university thing. Those are skills you actually grow with. The basic foundation, I think, is the primary and secondary school level. If you miss it at that level, you may have missed it forever. It’s not in the university that you’ll start teaching someone that the right thing to say is “I don’t” and not “I doesn’t”. It will simply enter through one ear and exit through the other. I’ve met grownups, fine writers at that, who tell you sincerely that their problem is how to use “have” and “has” correctly. It didn’t start from the university.

In the end, part of the solution to the unemployment situation in Nigeria lies in the acquisition of more practical, usable skills. And when employers say Nigerian graduates are not “employable”, I think they mean that the graduates lack requisite skills – not that they can neither write nor speak good English. I stand to be corrected.

What Nigerians Really Want

CHUKS OLUIGBO

Why does government exist? While it may be easy to answer this question in, say, the United States of America, it might be very difficult to attempt an answer in Nigeria. The reason is simple: In the US, people feel the positive impact of government. In Nigeria, on the contrary, many people do not know there is a government. In fact, they don’t even “give a damn” – to borrow President Goodluck Jonathan’s new-found expression. When they ever get to feel the impact of government, it seems to always be in the negative – like when the government bans commercial motorcycles (okada) or demolishes ‘illegal’ structures. 

In many parts of the world, governments find various ways of making life easier and more liveable for citizens. In the US, for instance, federally-funded and -governed welfare began in the 1930s during the Great Depression. The government responded to the overwhelming number of families and individuals in need of aid by creating a welfare programme that would give assistance to those who had little or no income. It was only in 1996 that the Republican Congress passed a reform law signed by President Bill Clinton, which gave the control of the welfare system back to the states. In the various types of welfare available, most states offer basic aid such as healthcare, food stamps, childcare assistance, unemployment, cash aid, and housing assistance.

In Germany, the social protection of all its citizens is considered a central pillar of national policy. 27.6 percent of Germany's Gross Domestic Product (GDP) is channelled into an all-embracing system of health, pension, accident, long-term care and unemployment insurance. In addition, there are tax-financed services such as child benefits (Kindergeld, beginning at €184 per month for the first and second children, €190 for the third, and €215 for each child thereafter, until they attain 25 years or receive their first professional qualification), and basic provisions for those unable to work or anyone with an income below the poverty line.

In spite of all the arguments against such social welfare programmes, there is no doubt that in countries where they exist, they have gone a long way in alleviating the plight of the suffering masses.

In Nigeria, what does the government do for the citizens? Does it provide employment for the people? Does it provide assistance to those who are not able to find immediate employment after school? Does it create the necessary environment for private businesses to thrive? Does it facilitate loans for would-be entrepreneurs? Does it provide housing or even make possible a homeownership plan? Does it provide any significant assistance to the teeming population of small-scale farmers? In how many of the so-called cities in Nigeria (let’s even leave out the rural areas) are the most basic infrastructure available, provided by government? These are open-ended questions.

In the situation, people have resorted to self-help. They have become so used to improvisation – always finding ways to go around their numerous day-to-day problems in a poorly-run country. Just like the case of Igboland in the immediate post-civil war period where, in the absence of any genuine efforts on the part of the victorious Federal Government to assist the Igbo people towards the rebuilding of their war-damaged infrastructure, in spite of the much-touted 3Rs, the people took the bull by the horns and literally extinguished flaming fires with their bare hands. As Paul Obi-Ani aptly captures it, “Save for the Igbo man’s self-help efforts, Igboland would have remained in a state of decay and neglect” (Post-Civil War Social and Economic Reconstruction of Igboland: 1970-1983).

In truth, the same could be said of present-day Nigeria: save for individual Nigerians’ self-help efforts, many parts of the country could still be living in the 15th century. Take the issue of electricity. In many rural areas of the country, especially in the Eastern parts, much of what is called rural electrification projects came through community development efforts: individuals in the communities were taxed (first on pro rata basis and later through voluntary donations) to raise money to purchase electric poles, cables and transformers. And since power supply became epileptic across the country, Nigerians have resorted to private power generation – at a huge cost to their pockets, environment and health.

Public schools are not working efficiently; people send their children to private schools. Government hospitals are virtually dead; people patronise private clinics. Security agencies cannot guarantee security of life and property; communities form vigilante groups. Even roads, rural communities (and urban residents, sometimes) go to the extent of contributing funds among themselves to purchase trips of sand and gravel to fill potholes on their roads or to hire tractors to grade their roads. All these amount to very high costs to the individuals, costs that would ordinarily have been borne (or at least, minimised) by government.

Is it potable water? In the urban areas, individuals are sinking boreholes. In the rural areas as well, those with the means are either sinking boreholes or constructing underground tanks to supply them with water all-year-round. The case of FESTAC Town in Lagos State, easily the biggest FG-owned estate in the country, is very familiar. Government taps in this town last functioned in the mid-1990s. Residents made do with well water for a while, and then started sinking their individual boreholes. Today, virtually every household – even in those 16-flat and 32-flat blocks – has a privately-built borehole, and I hear the state government is complaining about indiscriminate sinking of boreholes in the state. For crying out loud – to borrow that Nollywood-abused expression – what would government have the people do?

What Nigerians really want from government is simple. They are not asking for social welfare. They are not asking for free lunch, so to say. They are, I suppose, no longer even asking government to provide jobs. Nigerians that I know can create jobs for themselves, if given the right environment. Just the basic things – good roads, stable power supply, functional schools and hospitals, basic and affordable housing, good drinking water – and they are, as usual, willing to pay.

And in case the government does not know, the ordinary Nigerian does not care about GDP; he does not care about budgetary allocations; he does not care whether the economy is growing at 1000 percent or 0 percent. He does not bother about what the financial indicators are. Indeed, he hardly even understands these figures. And recently too, he seems to have also stopped bothering about corruption in government – especially now that it is very clear that this government is far from fighting corruption. If only the government could understand this, I think it would stop bandying figures about and face the things that truly matter to the people.