Latest scam from Imo state government

Just when I thought it couldn't possibly get worse in my dear country, Governor Rochas goes even lower than humanity can imagine.

These pensioners have been starved for over 2 years in reward for their loyal service to the state and you still find the cour age to take away the last shred of hope they have. These conditions are simply inhuman and unacceptable. During an economic recession, it is expected that the government should come true for poor people and come up with palliatives that would lessen their sufferings not worsen it.

What Governor Rochas is doing will simply widen inequality by increasing the gap between the rich and the poor, and worsen the sufferings of poor and vulnerable people.

Enough said, kindly see for yourself...

The Journey to Esaba Community: Suffering Amidst Plenty Personified

My excitement grew when I realized I was going to Delta state to support ActionAid’s Participatory Review and Reflection Process (PRRP), thoughts of relishing the beautiful life in one of the oil hubs of the country struck me as I mentally prepared for this trip.

 

However, it didn’t take long before reality began to sink in, am still in Nigeria after all, I smiled to myself as I passed the notorious warri boys who wasted no time in reminding me who they were with their guttural voices. One of the great things about this country which I have come to accept and respect is people’s ability to find happiness even when drowning in hunger and abject poverty- perhaps a quality which has been perfectly exploited by the powers that be.  The night life is awesome and the partying never ends in this city, wish I could say the same of development initiatives in the state.

 

In the wee hours of the next morning I set off with the rest of my team to what now stands the most telling experience I have had in development work. I have written about poverty and exclusion but what I thought I knew paled in comparison to what I saw.

 

I smelled danger when our partners in the community urged me to put on shoes I wouldn’t mind disposing before we left our rendezvous, an advice I now hold dear. As we approached Esaba, a community in Ugheli south LGA Delta state, we got to a point where we had no choice but to park our vehicle and complete the journey by foot. And yes, it was a raining season (I chuckle as I write this).

 

As we folded our trousers and removed our shoes determined to enter the muddy route to the community, we were stopped by a sympathetic man who happened to be a member of that community, he quickly reminded us of how brave we were. “You totally need to remove those shoes, because the mud will get to your knee and you might fall over a couple of times.”

 

A little boy showed up to save the day, offering to ferry us across the great river. And so we canoed our way to the community, my first experience in water. The full picture started to emerge as we made our way through the river, a pulsating adventure we had to take just to gain access to the community. And there we were, in Esaba surrounded by passionate people, men women and children in their numbers.

 

And in the middle of our discussion with them I drifted into the mental world and began to picture myself as a child growing in this community, cut off from the rest of the world.

What I would have had to go through just to get an education; how would my mom have carried me while swimming through the mud to buy food for the family from the market because God knows I never let go of her hands; how would she had taken me to the health facility when I was sick?; and would I have had the same future I have today facing these challenges and how many children are being robbed of their futures just by being born here, what wrong have they done?

 

And just by being cut off from civilization, this people have been denied access to education, electricity, market, skill learning, portable drinking water, safe and quality shelter, development opportunities, health care services, information, and most importantly association and relationship with the outside world which is what keeps us human.

 

The irony in all this is that a few kilometers from this community is a gas plant which happens to be one of the largest in West Africa, exploiting the rich resources from these communities and benefitting from poor people’s tax whose communities they conveniently ignore. And this is just one of the many big businesses thriving in the state and in West Africa, a recurring theme indeed.

 

Developing countries who boast most of the rich resources in the world and houses majority of the big multinational businesses continue to struggle with pervasive poverty and underdevelopment as trillions of money which could have funded development are lost on corporate tax incentives.

That West African governments insists on granting incentives even when their benefits cannot be justified against the mounting development needs in the region is a shocking disservice to poor people who continue to bear the brunt of such tax deals. How many more children should be robbed of their futures before we stop this charitable extravagance?

A recent report from ActionAid shows that the 15 ECOWAS countries lose an estimate of about $9.6 billion a year on corporate tax incentives. Nigeria, Ghana and Senegal alone are losing up to $5.8 billion a year, and guess what; only a tiny fraction of this is needed to fund development in forgotten communities like Esaba.

 

The reality is that we have the resources to drive all round development, we just need more responsibility in governance, making the right decisions at the highest levels and an active body of citizens demanding and driving development.

 

Nigeria ain't broke, it just needs to fix its tax system

Nigeria has lost billions of dollars because of a 10-year tax break given to Shell, Total and Eni, three of the world’s biggest oil and gas companies.

That staggering $3.3bn (£2.3bn) revenue loss, in a country where millions of people live in extreme poverty, is best understood through the social cost. The tax giveaway, which started in 1999, forfeited an opportunity to grant 70 million young Nigerians access to quality education, rebuild the university system and tackle entrenched problems in the health system.

Despite being Africa’s biggest economy, Nigeria has one of the highest child mortality rates in the world, with more than one in 10 children dying before the age of five. It also has the fourth highest maternal mortality rate: 814 women die for every 100,000 live births.

In a recent report, Leaking Revenue, ActionAid revealed how Nigeria lost the billions through a three-part tax break granted to the three multinationals. It is a striking example of how a global race to the bottom on tax is harming resource-rich countries. Previous ActionAid research shows that tax breaks cost developing countries at least $138bn every year (pdf).

The lost revenue could have contributed to tackling Nigeria’s intractable education crisis. The country has the world’s highest number of school-age children who are not in class – more than 10 million. Nigeria has been struggling for decades to provide education for its young people.

Abuator primary school sits in the heart of the oil-producing Delta state. Immense wealth is piped out of the ground daily but, when Dafe Rose started as the school’s new headteacher, she was shocked to see that some pupils were being taught under a tree rather than in a classroom. The school has no library, no toilets, no blackboards and no educational materials. Abuator is not unique.

           

Publicly funded education from primary to university level is under huge pressure. Poor financing of primary and secondary education since the late 1980s has forced many parents to turn to private schools. These are very expensive and have little or no space for children who are unable to pay. The wealthiest families now often send their children abroad to be educated, which is not an option for the vast majority of Nigerians.

Similarly, universities have been going through crises arising from poor funding. About 70% of qualified college-age Nigerians are without places in third-level education. The problems have led to strikes by teachers and student unrest.

Spent properly, the money lost to the tax break could have had a huge impact on education. It amounts to double Nigeria’s education budget for 2014. Our report shows that Nigeria is not broke, but that money has been given away in a show of magnanimous naivety.

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At the same time as offering tax breaks to multinationals, the government is considering an increase in VAT on everyday goods, multiple taxation of poor people, increased reliance on loans and foreign aid, and even prayers for a rise in the global oil price.

Nigeria desperately needs investment to tackle poverty and improve the lives of millions of marginalised people. ActionAid is calling on Nigeria to publish and review its tax policies and collaborate with other countries in west Africa to end the race to the bottom on harmful tax breaks.
Corporations also need to be more open about their activities in Nigeria and other developing countries.

Companies should pay their fair share of tax and publish their payments in every country in which they operate, including details of tax breaks they’ve been given. We must not be silent on this issue. Harmful tax breaks must be consigned to history.

• Kenny Oleru is ActionAid Nigeria’s policy and campaigns officer

CONTEXTUALIZING POVERTY

 

Its day 2 of the Activista forum in Bangladesh, am getting accustomed to the diversity among the participants and in times like this one begins to appreciate the richness of the different perspectives people bring on board reflecting their different contexts.

 

As the Activista Nigeria Focal Person, I am representing Activista Nigeria in a Forum in Dhaka Bangladesh. Activista coordinators from the Global movement have been brought together for technical discussions to shape the structure of the Activista movement and make input to ActionAid’s new Strategy.

 

After the day’s sessions, I had a first opportunity to explore the city of Dhaka, and take in the beautiful scenery. As I drifted away from the heart of the town, my first thoughts were a feeling of déjà vu, I have seen this before in parts –crowded streets, dilapidated structures, and a throng of young people hanging in the corners.

 

Mentally, I found myself reflecting on the discussions we had in one of our sessions on poverty. Refreshingly we paid little attention to classical definitions. In all honesty, the more I read theories and professional opinions on poverty, the more I disconnect with the realities and lose sight of the real picture.

 

To properly understand the meaning of poverty, we needed to put away our Civil Society Organizations (CSO) lenses, and attempt to see the world in the eyes of the common man. Understanding poverty requires an appreciation of the feelings and emotions which poverty elicits. It requires connecting with the sufferings and hurt that people living in poverty feel.

 

Poverty is not just the alienation of one’s rights; it’s that feeling of powerlessness when one is unable to claim her/his rights. Poverty is not just the inability to secure three square meals per day, it is that hunger, frustration and depression that it generates. 

 

It is that helplessness you get when you are unable to feed your children. It is that feeling of unfulfillment and despair that hunts you when you watch your children die of treatable diseases.

 

Poverty is that anger that drives you onto the streets in protests against a failing government, regardless of the fear of victimization, physical harm, imprisonment or even death. Yes, poverty is that voice that threatens to take away your hope and sanity.

 

Poverty is that clarion call for solidarity and brotherhood. The world must unite to fix this wrong committed by the powerful few.

 

Viva Activista! Aluta continua!

If I were kidnapped in Nigeria—the plight of the common man!

“Congratulations Nigeria: Nigerian troops rescue 43 kidnapped people, recover 500 cows from Boko Haram”—News flash, Premium times.

On a certain Monday morning, I woke up to this news which left me emotionally perplexed. On one hand I was pleased for the people rescued and reunited with their families as well as the message of hope which the rescue effort tends to spread. On the other hand, I was deep in thoughts wondering if so much has already been lost.

My reality lives ever with me, reminding me constantly that the most valuable asset I have remains the love from my family. No deep offshore accounts in Panama, no rich godfathers, the only people that remember my name is my family. Yes, I am the common man!

If I were kidnapped in Nigeria, the first thing I would know for sure is that help will certainly not come quickly enough, or may not even come at all. This could be because the people who I placed my trust in to be in a position to intervene (dare I mention the government?) in such situations either don’t think me important enough, or put simply, just don’t have what it takes to actually save the situation in a timely manner. Maybe I have lost faith in governance. Yes, I am the common man!

How I dream of a time when the loss of/threat of loss of a single Nigerian life regardless of class, status, ethnicity or gender leads to a swift response from the government in recognition of the value of our humanity. Yes, I am the common man!

Imagine I was a girl child growing up in a community called Chibok, if I were kidnapped in the year 2014; I could have lost count of the number of men that could have defiled me repeatedly. I could be nursing as many as my second child born to unknown terrorist rapists, in the worst imaginable conditions. I may have lost count of day and night, waiting and praying for something miraculous to happen. I may have given up on hope, I may have given up on crying and lost all desire to be found or rescued. I may have been broken. I may have given up all resistance and accepted life the way it is offered. I may have chosen to live like my captor. I may have become my captor. But that is only if I find the strength to cling onto dear life. Yes, I am the common man!

On the commemoration of the International day of the Girl Child, my thoughts are with the kidnapped Chibok school girls who have spent over 900 days in captivity. I still shudder at the deeper implications of this abduction which speaks more to the status of women and girls in today’s society— a soft target for abuse, a property to be owned for the satisfaction of carnal desires and domestic toil, relegated to the background and has little power to contest issues and influence decisions.

Yes I am a girl child –the common man –and I need to be heard. I need to trust again and I need a government that inspires belief.

 

On this day, October 11^th, the call for strengthening governance processes in Nigeria takes on even greater importance and strengthening citizen’s voices remains key to achieving this. Bringing governance closer to the people is a good start; perhaps only then will the voice of the girl child –the common man –be heard. Thanks to an active civil society, the seeds of change have been sown and with relentless nurturing, this seed will blossom and one day, we will all see the society of our dreams.   #DayofTheGirl #IDG2016 #Nigeria

Breaking out of the gender box—redefining perceptions!

Fresh from a training of CSOs on Gender and Power for the extension phase of the Voice to the People (V2P) project –a very lively and rich training – I still recall vividly the discussions that ensued on gender roles.

 

 

One particular question keeps playing through my mind, ‘should men cry?’ My first response to this was an emphatic yes— I mean why not? Thinking out loud, I still cry myself to bed some nights, and I still remember crying on my mother’s shoulders as an adult male. Oh, how relieved and consoled I had felt. Except now, I am not so sure how I feel having listened to other men in the room vehemently describe crying as a feminine trait.  

The word ‘deviant’ was thrown around which made me feel like hiding instantly. I must be a weakling; not only did I cry, oh I cried on the shoulders of a woman. I am supposed to be the strong one, the source of inspiration, the pillar of the home. You can picture me hiding my face in shame and deflation now. Something must be wrong with me!

And in a flash I was jolted back to reality by the voice of reasoning. My life, my rules! Societal influence plays a strategic role in shaping the outlook, choices and perceptions of individuals. Life changing decisions have been made based on perceptions and what the society has described as norms.

Conventional gender roles in the society interplay to decide for men and women, what they can do, what is acceptable and who they can become, regardless of inherent talents, weaknesses and the varying capacities and desires/preferences of individuals.

Many people find themselves in this gender box, but have not the courage to break away. If you feel suffocated by gender restrictions, it’s time to take a deep breath and chose to live freely. Pursue your dreams, realise your potentials and claim your rights.

I don’t know any better way to live than to live freely. When the gender seat you are on becomes too hot, please get comfortable. I long to see a society of men who are not afraid of walking the gender lines –change expectations, share responsibilities and challenge gender norms –and a society of women who will not be judged for realising their great potentials and living in ways that satisfy their needs.

As civil society actors and rights activists, it is incumbent on us to continue to challenge structures of power in the society and engage the systems and processes that foster inequality and exclusion. Gender based discrimination is not an issue of victory for the sexes, it is an issue of exclusion and marginalization of one over another which must be rooted out of our society.  

Imo State: Development at the cost of the people?

The Easter break came at an ideal time for me, a chance to attend the traditional wedding of a cousin I haven’t seen in years as well as find myself once again in the warm embrace of my mom (yes, I will always be that boy).

And so my journey began, tucked between seats in a worn-out Chisco bus, we set out in the wee hours of the night looking to touch down in Owerri early the next day. Needless to say that I ended up sleeping on the tarred road in the company of other stranded passengers and hungry mosquitoes as our bus broke down in the middle of no man’s land as predicted and on one side the driver and his conductor were plotting their escape. A story for another day!

Imagine my relief when I eventually made my way home the next day. Imo State will always hold a special place in my heart. It is the turf where I grew up. As one of the many Imo citizens living outside the State, I have heard tales about my State and I was actually looking forward to going home.

On hitting the heart of Owerri, my excitement grew at the colourful scenery. From the well decorated stones that form the Freedom Fountain, to the fresh paints which adorn the walls of the city, it was beginning to look like the state we all longed to see.

And then I was greeted by strategically positioned messages, which brought me back to life and reality began to sink. I had the luxury of taking a shot of one of those messages which is displayed below.

Hmm, I said to myself, same old messiah syndrome. Nigerian politicians often blow their trumpets, as if they were funding states’ development with their personal money. Why not allow citizens who are actually funding development through their taxes to assess your performance or even allow your work speak for you? Besides, on the balance of things, a comparison of what has been achieved and what still needs to be done should – for a want of better words – humble one.

My thoughts and disappointment proved to be only the preamble when I got home to my parents who are well into their 70s, smiling through life, praying for a miracle that would make the State Government pay them at least one-month out of a deficit of 36 months pension owed them.

That was when the real picture began to emerge; a beautiful State built by hungry people—sounds like the days of slavery!  Over 5000 pensioners in Imo State are owed about 36 months backlog of pensions; civil servants under the employ of the State Government are owed 3-5 months’ salary arrears; about 3000 workers sacked, and uncertainty and insecurity prevailing among workers as the Government continues to slash worker’s wages whilst building showy fountains, recreation parks, hotels and shopping malls.

Behind every state-of-the-art school built in Imo State, there are parents whose children have to go to school hungry and who cannot provide the basic needs of their families. And for every new hotel and shopping mall launched in the state there are old pensioners whose needs are never prioritized, who need their pensions to access healthcare services. And there are young people who drop out of school because their parents cannot afford tuition fees, some of whom take up arms in frustration and begin to feed on the rich. Development of infrastructure should never be at the cost of the people who need those services the most.

Put simply, this development in the State has come at a dire opportunity cost as the Government has failed to prioritize. For a State that recently received 26 billion naira bailout fund, one must ask: where did the money go?

In all this thinking and out-pouring of emotions, the small voice in my head tells me that there is no development more important than the wellbeing of the people. The Imo State Government must rethink its development strategy and place the people at the top of the agenda or it will continue to build a house of cards with weak foundations that will surely come crashing on the builders.