I began my journey into media activism 36 years ago, in 1978, as a second-year economics student at the University of Ibadan. By the grace of God, this journey has been uninterrupted to this day. People often ask me how I have managed to stay committed to this thankless endeavor for so long. My response has always been the same: personal interest, compassion, commitment of resources, and the grace of the One who is above all.
Interestingly, nobody has ever asked me what drives me to keep going. When I started, I didn’t have a grand mission or vision statement. I simply began writing about the events in my environment and, occasionally, those outside it. Over the years, however, I have articulated the objectives of my efforts: to document history as it unfolds (“history on the go!”), to draw the attention of government to their missteps or areas where they could improve, and to critique them when they lie, cheat the people, or act contrary to their promises. My aim is also to provide a benchmark for comparing the past and present.
In all this, there is no bitterness—only a satirical and jocular approach. I address very serious issues with a lighter tone, often incorporating proverbs and Bible verses for effect. Someone once described my work as “seriously funny.” Two pieces of feedback I received last week capture this sentiment: “Heart-wrenching piece crafted in light-hearted, hilarious prose,” wrote Taofeek Akinola; while Chinemerem Muo said, “Very hilarious; I almost cried while laughing.” Both were reacting to a commentary linking the End Hunger and EndSARS protests. At times, I go out of my way to help readers momentarily forget their woes.
A unique aspect of my work is my penchant for coining new words and phrases. This habit dates back to my school days at St. Joseph’s, Awka-Etiti, where I was nicknamed “Commissioner for Vocabulary.” Later, I was chosen “Commissioner for Information and Propaganda” in Nnamdi Azikiwe Hall, University of Ibadan. My most recent invention, “SathDay,” is completely copyrighted.
The evolution of ‘SathDay’
“SathDay” is not to be confused with Saturday. It originates from the enforced “Sit-at-Home” (SatH) orders in the Southeast, which were brutally implemented on Mondays. Over time, “SathDay” (short for Sit-at-Home Day) has gained currency as a replacement for “Ghost Town Monday.” Interestingly, reports suggest that life remains normal in the hometown of one of the key proponents of the sit-at-home directive, even on Mondays—a sharp contrast to the enforced shutdowns in Anambra, Abia, and Imo states.
On the last “SathDay” in September, I traveled from Igbo-Ukwu to Ijebu-Ode. This was my fifth Monday journey since the sit-at-home orders began. Three of these trips were by public transport. It’s not that I was being reckless or tempting fate, but circumstances compelled me to travel on those days. On my first attempt, I encountered a barricade with a smoldering bonfire nearby. I stepped out, removed the barricade, and continued on my way. A friend later remarked that my time had not yet come—a testament, he said, to the hand of God (Akachukwu di ya).
A journey against all odds
For this latest journey, I had planned to leave on Sunday but was delayed by unforeseen circumstances. Determined to make the trip, I decided to travel on Monday, against all advice. My wife engaged in fervent prayers, casting and binding. My elder sister raised an alarm when I informed her of my plan, but I assured her I was ready to leave. She decreed and declared blessings upon me as I set out at 6:15 a.m.
At Nkwo Market Square in Igbo-Ukwu, there was no activity. Ichida was equally lifeless. Awka-Etiti showed faint signs of life, with a few people waiting for transport. By the time I reached Nnobi, there was noticeable activity: some keke and shuttle buses waited for passengers, and the tomato market was bustling, likely due to the arrival of a truckload from the North.
By Umuoji, socio-economic activities were in full swing. At Nkpor Roundabout, life was evident, though the park was empty. From Igbo-Ukwu to Onitsha, I encountered two private cars, eight shuttle buses, eight tippers, and four lorries in 45 minutes. Zik’s Roundabout, Upper Iweka, and the Niger Bridge were eerily free of traffic. When my wife learned that I had crossed the Niger Bridge, she relaxed and resumed her normal activities.
The far-reaching impact of SathDay
The sit-at-home order’s effects were not confined to the Southeast. Along the Onitsha-Lagos route, I noticed its ripple effects. The infamous Benin Bypass was free of traffic, fuel stations were uncrowded, eateries were deserted, and policemen—typically stationed at countless toll points—were idle, swatting flies. The banana seller at Ore sold me a bunch for ₦500, noting that on other days, she would have charged ₦800 due to higher demand.
It is clear that the SathDay phenomenon extends beyond the Southeast, with adverse macroeconomic impacts nationwide. The enforced shutdowns disrupt commerce, shrink revenues, and deepen economic hardship, making it a national concern rather than a regional one.
The curious case of DF and AB
On a different note, I had intended to write about DF and AB—how one individual is wielding state structures to pursue a personal vendetta under the guise of justice. This vendetta has taken on oppressive, repressive, and suppressive dimensions, dragging one party through courts as far as Syria and Ukraine while the other enjoys impunity.
However, I must tread cautiously. DF is younger, a lawyer, and well-known. AB, on the other hand, is older, unlearned, and obscure. While DF has supporters shouting “Free DF!” I fear that if I were to be unjustly detained, I might end up in Gashua or Gobir with no one advocating for me, apart from my family. Thus, I lend myself some sense and refrain from saying more. Yet, I am comforted by the words of Jeremiah 1:19: “They shall fight against thee, but they shall not prevail against thee; for I am with thee, saith the Lord.”
Conclusion
As I reflect on my journey from Igbo-Ukwu to Ijebu-Ode, I am reminded of the resilience of the Nigerian spirit. Despite the challenges posed by SathDay and other socio-economic disruptions, the determination to move forward remains unshaken.
To all men of goodwill—an increasingly rare breed—I wish a Merry Christmas and a hopeful New Year. May the challenges of today give way to the triumphs of tomorrow.
Join BusinessDay whatsapp Channel, to stay up to date
Open In Whatsapp