Tag: Goodluck Jonathan

5 key issues in Nigeria’s elections

Nigerian President Goodluck Jonathan and APC main opposition party's presidential candidate Muhammadu Buhari signed the renewal of their pledges for peaceful elections on March 26 2015 in Abuja. (Pic: AFP)
Nigerian President Goodluck Jonathan and APC main opposition party’s presidential candidate Muhammadu Buhari signed pledges for peaceful elections on March 28. (Pic: AFP)

Nigeria, Africa’s most populous country and its biggest economy, holds general elections on Saturday. Here are five issues that could shape the results.

 Security

Which candidate is best suited to end Boko Haram’s six-year uprising that has killed more than 13 000 people and left 1.5 million others homeless?

This may be the key question for some of Nigeria’s 68.8 million registered voters, especially those in the north directly affected by the violence.

President Goodluck Jonathan’s record on the conflict has been widely criticised.

Despite successes claimed over the Islamists in the last six weeks, many observers have described his response to the uprising as misguided and lacking urgency.

Opposition leader Muhammadu Buhari, a former military head-of-state, is generally seen as capable of being a strong commander-in-chief.

But experts have also noted that, despite the bloodshed, Boko Haram will not be the decisive issue for all voters, particularly for southerners untouched by the insurgency.

Corruption

Graft has crippled progress in Africa’s top economy for decades and may be the key issue that unites voters of all religions and ethnic groups.

Buhari has made the fight against corruption the key to his political identity, dating back to 1983, when he took power in a coup that toppled a civilian administration accused of stealing public funds.

While Jonathan insists he has made progress in cleaning up the federal government, critics say graft has in fact flourished under his watch, including at the state-owned oil corporation.

Most experts say the March 28 vote is too close to call but if Buhari manages to unseat an incumbent president – which would be a first for Nigeria – his anti-graft credentials will likely have played a key role.

Economy

The collapse in global oil prices highlighted Nigeria’s vulnerability to crude market shocks.

Oil generates more than 70 percent of government revenue and falling prices have sent the economy into a tailspin.

Jonathan’s economic czar, Finance Minister Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala, has been calling for diversification for years, with a focus on revitalising agriculture.

The president’s performance on agriculture has been praised and there are signs of increased investment and job growth in the long-neglected sector, which could help him on re-election day.

Annual GDP growth has also averaged more than five percent through Jonathan’s tenure.

But poverty and unemployment remain rampant with most of Nigeria’s 173 million people living on less than $2 per day.

Buhari’s economic credentials have been questioned, especially given his background as an army general and military ruler.

Doubts over his ability to steer Africa’s top economy could hurt him on polling day, with whoever wins facing a pressing problem of how to boost government coffers in an unfavourable climate.

Tribe

Always a factor in Nigerian elections, Buhari’s Hausa-Fulani tribesmen who dominate Nigeria’s mainly Muslim north believe it is their turn to control the presidency.

A southerner has occupied the presidential villa for 13 of the 16 years since democracy was restored in 1999.

While a majority of northerners are likely to support Buhari, Jonathan will still win votes in the region, which, like the rest of the country, is ethnically mixed.

The president is an Ijaw, a minority ethnic group in the oil-producing Niger Delta, and is expected to win a majority there as well as in neighbouring areas dominated by the Igbo tribe.

Religion

Some of Buhari’s rivals have tried to portray him as a religious fanatic committed to imposing Islamic law across all of Nigeria.

The charge is almost certainly baseless but experts say it could dissuade some swing voters in the mostly Christian south.

Jonathan has not made his Christian faith or Buhari’s religious beliefs a key part of his public campaign but he is still expected to win more votes among Christians.

Why do we need big numbers for African deaths to matter?

‘2000 people killed.’

‘Actually it is 150 people.’

‘That makes it fine then. Thank you for the correction, we can continue to ignore the Boko Haram crisis.’

This is clearly how the Nigerian government thought the conversation would go when they sought to amend the ‘error’ that had been widely published about the recent attacks in Baga.

A man holds a placard reading "I am Nigerian, stop Boko Haram" during a gathering at the trocadero place in Paris on January 18, 2015 to protest against Boko Haram islamists after a large-scale attack in Baga. (Pic: AFP)
A man holds a placard reading “I am Nigerian, stop Boko Haram” during a gathering at the trocadero place in Paris on January 18 2015 to protest against Boko Haram Islamists after a large-scale attack in Baga. (Pic: AFP)

The question one needs to ask is why does it seem that reducing the numbers of deaths makes the situation any better? The fact that there are any people who have perished at all should be cause for the same amount of uproar.

Within Africa we enjoy playing the numbers game when it comes to how serious a tragedy is.

We treat death like a party;  the higher the numbers the more serious the event.

Why make a fuss about having one girl missing when we could have 250? It is not a real event until the number hits the triple digits. Why be bothered with one person being shot dead in a police shootout when we could have police kill whole groups of miners?

What this seems to say is that there is a need to supplement the quality of an African life with quantity. In order to make a human life matter we need the numbers, but we never have the names and faces.

These are always irrelevant.

When we scope a news article for simply the digits and never the story we say that African lives are worth less.

Within the international realm we make good news when whole groups of us have died or disappeared. It cannot be three or four of us, we need to make it a party.

#BringBackOurGirls was an international phenomenon because the number of girls missing was truly mind-boggling. How in the age of Google Earth can we not find 200+ girls? The world had no choice but to get behind it because of the scale of it.

However, #JeSuisCharlie saw 12 deaths trump the amount of international attention that #BringBackOurGirls and has become one of the most-used hashtags in Twitter history.

The heinous acts that prompted the two hashtags are based on ideals of western values clashing with fundamentalist Islamic ideals. Both involved the lives of people. If we do the maths (because it is about the bottom line), if all lives matter equally should we not have had nearly ten times the uproar for the Nigerian girls as we did for the French deaths?

People hold placards which read "I am Charlie" as they take part in a solidarity march  in the streets of Paris on January 11 2015. (Pic: Reuters)
A mass solidarity march in the streets of Paris on January 11 2015. (Pic: Reuters)

Where is our international march featuring the ‘who’s who’ of political figures? Our own leaders were falling all over themselves in order to proclaim that they were Charlie but barely uttered a peep about bringing back our girls. The 2000 deaths have barely managed to cause a whisper as it is continuously drowned out by the roar of defiance coming from the #CharlieHebdo saga.

Furthermore the names of African victims are rarely released. They often fall into the oblivion of numbers, allowed to become another statistic. Only those who are prominent in some way (a relation of a politician, a foreign national of another country for example) are given names, faces and back stories.

So the killing of 28 bus passengers in November by al-Shabaab near the town of Mandera, on the border between Somali and Kenya, remains just that: the death of 28 nameless, faceless bus passengers.

And what of those in Niger who died protesting against Charlie Hebdo? Where are their names, their backgrounds, an in-depth exploration of their dreams and ideologies?

They have no identities in the media. They simply add to the numbers that are part of the story. Had this occurred in the West, we would have read about the lives of the victims, their families would have all been interviewed and we would have known everything about them, because in death they mattered.

In Africa, the dead mostly remain nameless. It would seem in death we do not matter outside of adding ‘meat’ to a story.

Maybe therein lies the problem. Terrorist attacks are happening so often on the continent that they no longer shock us to our core.Two killed in a bomb blast in a Nairobi market; 15 girls kidnapped here; a suicide bombing there.  It is only if we can squeeze those many into one incident that there is enough potency to make it so that it actually matters.

We need to start valuing the lives of Africans.

A great deal of this lies in how we portray the loss of African lives in the media. It depends on the amount of depth and clout that is given to stories within local spheres. If one girl gets kidnapped it must be treated as if it is the end of the world because it is.  And when something happens to one person or 50 people it matters just the same.

We need to name them and not wait for media outlets and information providers abroad to name them for us.

We need to name ourselves before others can give us names.

Once we give those names we need to care about them enough to cause an uproar, because they do matter.

If we fail to fix this, we shall get to a point where we are missing 500 girls, enduring massacres of 5000 people and having entire mining villages shot down but no one will bat an eyelid because ‘at least it isn’t 250 girls, 2000 people and a few miners.’ We will find these numbers rising because we seemed to not care when the numbers were smaller.

Kagure Mugo is a freelance writer and co-founder and curator of holaafrica.org, a Pan-Africanist queer women’s collective which engages in activism and awareness-building around issues of African women’s identity, experiences and sexuality. Connect with her on Twitter: @tiffmugo

Bring back our girls and our country, President Jonathan

I watched the first lady of my country, Nigeria, shed tears for the abducted Chibok girls over two weeks after they went missing. I didn’t actually see the tears fall: she covered her face with a large tissue.

Her husband, President Goodluck Jonathan, went on a political rally in the northern city of Kano two days after the girls were abducted. The 2015 elections are, after all, only a year away. Issues such as addressing the nation over the schoolgirl abductions, and the bomb blast in Abuja days later, which killed 70 people, are obviously less pressing in nature.

Yet on national television last Sunday, the president promised Nigeria: “Wherever these girls are, we’ll surely get them out.” It’s amazing what a little international scrutiny will do. We have discovered the power of the hashtag over the last week. The simple, emphatic demand #BringBackOurGirls has moved across the Twitter timelines of the famous and the unknown, uniting Nigerian housewives and the US secretary of state, Hillary Clinton. Protests have spread from Abuja to Lagos, London and Washington; CNN, the BBC, al-Jazeera and other international media organisations have flocked to the protest sites, building momentum. And now Barack Obama has called for the world to act against Boko Haram, the terror organisation that kidnapped the girls.

Protesters hold signs during a demonstration on May 6 2014 outside the Nigerian embassy in Washington, DC. (Pic: AFP)
Protesters hold signs during a demonstration on May 6 2014 outside the Nigerian embassy in Washington, DC. (Pic: AFP)

And yet, as elated as I am over the overdue coverage this issue is finally receiving, I cannot help but wonder what comes next. When the girls are released, will they be returned to a country where they are not at risk of being abducted again? Will they be released to families that are safe from the threat of Boko Haram attacks? Will they come home to a Nigeria where the money meant for their education, their health and their future is not siphoned off into accounts around the globe?

Viewing the events surrounding the Chibok abductions, I am reminded of the Occupy Nigeria protest of January 2012, when thousands demonstrated over the sudden removal of a national petrol subsidy, causing fuel prices to double overnight. Like the #BringBackOurGirls movement, Occupy Nigeria migrated from Twitter through street protests to international coverage. The government was forced to the negotiation table. As the world looked on, causing our leaders to squirm, it was the time for us to call for the Nigeria we wanted, to demand transparency, education and better infrastructure.

But the negotiators were blinkered. They could ask for only one thing: a restoration of the subsidy. And when the petrol pump price was reduced, although not to former levels, it was as if a small victory had been won.

What victory, when our legislators were still the highest paid in the world? When our children were still some of the most illiterate in the world? When our youths suffered one of the highest levels of unemployment in the world? None of these issues had been addressed, not even when the world was watching and our government, unembarrassed by the plight of its citizens, was shamed under the vast lens of the international media.

We cannot let this opportunity pass a second time, for who knows what even greater tragedy will cause the world’s attention to return to Nigeria? Now is the time for us to widen our protest; now is the time to ask what country these girls will be returned to.

What happened to the trial of Senator Ali Ndume, alleged sponsor of Boko Haram insurgents? Why, despite the billions allocated to defence, are the insurgents reportedly better equipped than our soldiers? Why do Nigerian girls remain among the most uneducated in the world? Why has polio not been eradicated in Nigeria? Where is the $20bn that our central bank governor discovered was missing from our treasury this year? And, of course: where are our girls?

This Friday I will join hundreds of people in front of the Nigerian high commission in London to protest at the abduction of our girls and the abduction of our country. Mr President, it’s not too late for you to become the leader we elected you to be. Take your eyes off the 2015 elections and focus on the matter at hand. Bring back our girls. Bring back our money. Bring back our country.

Chibundu Onuzo for the Guardian

‘The right to choose your own sexuality is a human right’

(Pic: Reuters)
(Pic: Reuters)

In the wake of the recently passed “anti-gay” law by the Nigerian government and President Goodluck Jonathan, there has been much speculation online as to how Fela Kuti, my father, would react. So let us get this clear, and I will also express my own views on the matter.

My father would not support this law. He would know why the law was passed: as a way of distracting the population from the main problems we face today – poverty, lack of electricity and services, corruption, mismanagement, and so on and so forth.

That being said, Fela may have had some reservations about homosexuality itself. Who is to say? No one can speak for him. But Fela would not have had any reservations about upholding and protecting basic human rights. The right to choose your own sexuality and sexual behavior – as long as it is between consenting adults – is one such human right.

It’s a difficult topic for a lot of people in Nigeria to understand as it’s a very new issue that has never been quite public. Our culture and traditions and certain religious values make it more difficult for many to accept or understand, and it will take some time for those people to learn to respect the fundamental human rights of others to express themselves freely. People have said that being gay is “un-African” – I’m not an expert on our history, but I don’t know of any [instance] where the topic is mentioned in our history (I am not referring to Christian orthodoxy that was brought by non-African missionaries).

The gay community in Nigeria will have to be patient and realise acceptance of homosexuality is a gradual process which will take a very long time – especially in the north of Nigeria. But they must slowly put their case forward. They will need a lot of diplomatic support, and they will have to fight the law. They might definitely lose, but they will just have to keep on fighting for their fundamental right to live. There is no other choice.

We have to keep talking about the issue of gay rights, but it’s the government’s responsibility to take the lead to defend people’s fundamental rights. Citizens must have the right to be who they want to be.

Femi Kuti for okayafrica, a blog dedicated to bringing you the latest from Africa‘s New Wave.