Opinion

Nigeria’s sacred cows and the rest of us…

Published

6 months ago

February 18, 2026

Chigozin Obinna

By Bola BOLAWOLE

Analysts say Nigeria’s sacred cows in politics and governance perpetuate corruption, insecurity, and systemic failure, blocking meaningful reform

If I am to tell, I will say that Nigeria’s problems revolve around her sacred cows. Each and everyone of this country’s problems – be it corruption, insecurity, bad governance, infrastructure deficit, rigged elections, name it – they all revolve around and are traceable to sacred cows.

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If only we can find a way – or, better still, summon the courage – to cage our sacred cows, then and only then shall we be on the road to solving the myriad problems that confront us. But the snag is, who bells the cat?

Once upon a time, a mischief or colony of rats gathered to deliberate on one sore issue: The cat that steals in to kill and munch them.

After much deliberations, a very smart rat came up with the novel idea that they should get a bell and tie it around the cat’s neck; so that rather than the cat stealthily stealing in on them, the jingles of the bell around its neck will announce its arrival and every rat will be alerted to hurry into their holes to hide.

Everyone clapped! Smart idea! The rats contributed money and bought a bell. Now came the time to implement their resolution: Who will go and tie the bell around the cat’s neck?

You will find this story in the Aesop fable titled “The Mice in Council.” What morals does it teach? That it is easier said than done! That proposing solutions is easier than executing them!

But it does not at all mean that it can never be done; only that bold – even if dangerous and high-risk – steps are needed to solve nagging problems. Acting alone may be futile while collective action stands a better chance of yielding the desired result. But even this carries a heavy caveat!

Once upon a time again in a village, the king’s mother was a witch and every night the witch cried, the next day a child died.

The women got fed up and held a meeting where it was resolved that they must send a delegation to notify the king of their findings.

Taking a cue from “Who bells the cat?”, they decided to troop to the palace enmasse since no one was willing to volunteer to bear this very dangerous message. Before setting out for the palace, they rehearsed carefully how they would present their case before Kabiyesi.

One bold woman volunteered to lead. Once she says: “The king’s wife is a…”, all the other women should chorus “…witch!” They were to repeat this three times and then wait to see the king and his wife’s reaction. Fair enough!

The women booked an appointment to see the king. On the appointed day they put on their best attires and headed to the palace. The king and his wife, equally resplendent, sat on their thrones. The women sang and danced.

Their spokesperson, a seasoned PR guru, came forward and praised the king and his wife, reeling out their achievements since the king mounted the throne of his ancestors. The king was happy and waved his horsetail in salutation; his wife, too, beamed with smiles.

Then came the moment of truth. The leader stepped forward, cleared her throat and screamed: “The king’s wife is a …” The silence that followed would wake the dead! She looked behind her; she also looked around her: Did they not hear her?

She shouted the same message again. Again, deafening silence answered her. She did that thrice as they had earlier agreed, but then she realised her colleagues had chickened out.

Each time she looked back at her colleagues, they avoided meeting her bewildered gaze. Betrayal!

But thank God for wisdom. This woman quickly changed gear and put her car in reverse. She shouted “The king’s wife is illustrious!” And this time around her colleagues latched on to it! Everyone sang and danced. The king was happy. His wife, too.

The women, having chickened out when it mattered most, took their problem back home with drooped heads. They were too afraid to bell the cat. You may blame them, but speaking truth to power is not easy. Not everyone has the belly for rebellion.

Most people would rather suffer in silence and grumble when no one in particular is listening instead of marching in the streets and confronting their oppressors.

In any society, those who have the stomach for “struggle” are usually not many; even at that, they are seen and regarded most times by the same people they are fighting to liberate as “trouble-makers!”

Everyone knows that Nigeria’s problems are its sacred cows – in practical and figurative terms – but who bells the cat? Throughout President Muhammadu Buhari’s eight ruinous years, Nigeria’s problems were the Fulani and their cows, which Nigerians were told must be treated better than human beings.

Prominent Fulanis in and out of government told us they value their cows more than they value human beings – and they acted it! They kidnapped, killed, raped, maimed, burned down entire villages, ravaged farmlands and destroyed crops in the name of feeding their cows.

Large swathes of the country were laid desolate at the feet of the Fulani and their sacred cows.

Much of the problem of insecurity that has brought foreign troops into our country today is traceable to that. Notwithstanding, the Fulani and their cows still remain sacred because no one is willing – or ready, or able – to bell the cat!

If a man insists that his cow is sacred, you, of course, must know that he, himself, the owner of the cow, is super sacred! That is one of the problems this country is yet to come to terms with.

Some people from a section of this country see themselves as sacred cows; and, as if accepting this narrative, the other parts of the country defer to them! They say things that people from other parts of the country dare not say – and they get away with it.

They do things that others would shiver at doing – and they walk away free from the scenes of blue murder, which they not only perpetrate in broad daylight but also stick in our faces! They dare you! And you dare not! They wield two deadly weapons: the tyranny of (orchestrated) numbers and the tyranny of violence! With these, they sow fear – and tears – in the land.

The confession by Nasir el-Rufai that they bugged or hacked the communication lines of the National Security Adviser is one recent example! If someone who is not a sacred cow said what that short-man devil said, do you think he would walk away free? Even after he was invited for questioning, they quickly released him as if his yansh must not touch ground at the EFCC office!

This man not only bluffed the security men who sought to arrest him at the airport, he also went ahead to make the damning disclosure that they possess the capacity to compromise the country’s security architecture! It immediately raises the question of how porous our security architecture is.

It also calls into question the suitability of those manning it. True, then, is the saying that while the enemy lurks outside, the one who deals the real damage lies within!

Is this the reason why they are dying to have election results electronically transmitted so they can hack into the INEC system? When people are desperate, they do desperate things.

Was this not how, in their desperation in 2014, they invited Fulani terrorists into the country and the debilitating impact of that is with us to this day?

Have you forgotten that the same man who made the revelation about that pernicious invitation is the same man in the ongoing hacking revelation?

Finally, US soldiers have set foot on our soil. If our government cannot help us, let help come from elsewhere is what many Nigerians are saying.

Cry, the beloved country! Ideologically, I cannot support foreign troops on Nigerian – in fact, on any African – soil; least of all US troops! But we have seen enough to understand that our government cannot help us in this matter any more.

The sacred cows in the system will not let our government do the needful to end insecurity.

Those helping to hack the government’s communication lines are most likely enemies within who are sabotaging any and every effort of this government to succeed.

Think of all the reasons and sentiments involved: Politics, religion, ethnicity; not to talk of those doing it for pecuniary gains.

How will you know that we are all not on the same page on the issue of ending insurgency in the country? Just take a look at the kind of excuses some people are giving to counter the efforts by US lawmakers to see to it that the sacred cows who have contributed in one way or the other to the terrorism scourge are penalised! They are arguments that are, to say the least, jejune.

Did Rabiu Kwankwaso as governor of Kano state enact Sharia blasphemy law as alleged by the US lawmakers? Yes, he did! Has that law been the core of religious extremism-cum-terrorism in this country? Yes, it has! So, Kwankwaso has contributed to the problem; whether he did so under pressure or not is immaterial.

That there are worse offenders than him does not also exculpate him. What we need to do is point out the others who should be added to the list of those the US should penalise.

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The cloak of untouchability surrounding Nigeria’s sacred – even mad – cows must be shattered once and for all!

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Opinion

Tributes to Dr. Segun Osoba and Abosede Oluwayemisi

Published

3 weeks ago

August 5, 2026

Mariam Balogun

By Bola BOLAWOLE,

Dr. Segun Osoba, Marxist scholar and historian, was one of my mentors and role models. Our paths crossed long before I came face-to-face with the enigma at the then University of Ife, now Obafemi Awolowo University, Ile-Ife, where he not only taught me courses in the History department, but was also our staff adviser and comrade.

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Cerebral and unflinchingly principled, Osoba snubbed the usual hussle, if I may call it that, of many academics to attain to the professoral status, preferring to remain “Dr.” even though everyone knew he was not the mate of many a professor!

For me, Osoba’s fame travelled far ahead of him. Appointed by the Murtala Muhammed regime into the Constitution Drafting Committee in October 1975, Osoba, together with his ideological soulmate, Dr. Bala Usman of the History department of the Ahmadu Bello University (ABU), Zaria, broke ranks with the other members of the CDC to author a people-oriented draft Constitution that made the Nigerian people’s interests, aspirations and well-being its focal point. It was termed the Minority Report.

Expectedly, the conservative Olusegun Obasanjo regime that succeeded Murtala Muhammed rejected the Osoba/Bala Usman report while accepting the report of the majority members of the CDC on September 14, 1976. The CDC was chaired by Chief FRA Williams.

The majority/minority report divide apart, the CDC was not without its controversies: The sage, Chief Obafemi Awolowo, had declined to serve on the committee, thereby reducing its members from 50 to 49. There was also the debate as to what would have been the choice of a much more radical Murtala Muhammed had he not been assassinated on February 13, 1976.

Specifically because of Osoba and Bala Usman, I chose to study History in the university! And I was fortunate to drink from the fountain of knowledge at the feet of Dr. Osoba on and off the classroom. As comrades, our relationship did not end at Ife; usually, comradeship is a life-long endeavour.

In late December 2023, after a spell of ‘long-time-no-see’, four of us old students/comrades of Comrade Osoba decided to visit him at his Ijebu-Ode residence – Femi Falana, SAN; Ambassador Ayo Olukanni; Kayode Komolafe (K.K.) and my humble self.

Comrade was still his very sharp and humorous self. Despite his health challenges, he still “recognised” each and everyone of us by our voice. We discussed for hours and it was amazing that ill-health spared his intellect. He was his familiar self – analytical, even if caustic, going down memory lane and recalling facts and figures as if he was reading them from a book spread out before him.

We promised to return. Unfortunately, we procrastinated, despite Olukanni’s repeated prodding. But as individuals, we attended his 90th birthday celebration held at Ijebu-Ode on 9th January, 2025. His book, “Critical and Contentious Issues in the Modern and Contemporary History of Nigeria: Collected Writings of Samuel Olusegun Osoba”, which was unveiled at the occasion, adorns my Library. See also my “Tributes to Comrade (Dr.) Segun Osoba at 90”, published in this column in the Wednesday, 15 January, 2025 edition of the New Telegraph newspaper.

Dr. Osoba passed away peacefully at home in Ijebu-Ode on 14 May, 2026. A flurry of activities by comrades from all the nooks and crannies of this country as well as abroad celebrated his life, extolled his virtues, pledged to continue the struggle from where he stopped, and bid him farewell from this earthly plane. In this were the words of Che Guevara fulfilled: “Wherever death may surprise us, let it be welcome, provided that this, our battle cry, may have reached some receptive ear and another hand may be extended to wield our weapons (Message to the Tricontinental, 1967).”

I was unable to participate fully in some of the activities because of the tragedy that fell at my doorsteps at about the same time.

First, my elder sister’s husband, Gabriel Alani Olusola Omiyale, died on June 11, 2026 at the age of 89 years. He was a mentor. Then came the bombshell: His daughter – and my sister’s second child, Abosede Oluwayemisi – died the same month on June 29th at the age of 54!

That was massive! To say we were devastated is an understatement. If the pains that attended Bose’s death remain indescribable, the ways and manners of her husband and his family immediately before and after her death remain a puzzle. They rubbed insults on our injury.

They desecrated our Yoruba customs and traditions. Bose had heroically battled the scourge of breast cancer; after undergoing an operation, we were all optimistic she was on the path to full recovery until tests showed she needed more medical attention.

Naturally, she was devastated but, gradually, she built up the confidence and strength required to see her through. No stone was left unturned by her extended family who did not leave the load for the husband and his family to carry. All hands were on deck.

The extended family had always been there for Bose. Her siblings had been wonderful; never allowing her husband’s unstable job situation to show or affect Bose’s treatment and other needs, including her children’s education and welfare. I also played my part. I am grateful to everyone who responded to our clarion call in many ways.

We were hopeful we would all pull through it and that Bose’s case would be another testimony that cancer can be beaten. All she needed – as much as medicare – were words of encouragement and support. That, however, became the weakest link!

Act one: Against the best advice of her mother, my niece was made to consume a concoction that turned the tide. According to her husband, the concoction was procured by his own brother in Akure, Ondo state, taken to a church for prayers after which it was dispatched through a motorpark! Bose drank this concoction and started vomiting. In his own testimonies, Bose’s husband took her to a hospital where she was given drips, which gave her some strength, but because the doctor was late in coming, he took her back home despite the fact that the test they ran indicated that she had a blood infection! That night at home, she started vomiting again and, according to the husband’s testimony, he took her again to the hospital by 1.30am. She was left unattended until late afternoon when she fell into a coma! Bose’s blood infection was never treated until she passed away!

Act Two: Our standard practice had been to always double-check whatever a doctor said or prescribed, but on this fatal day, Bose’s husband kept all of us in the dark. We were not told of the blood infection. We were not alerted when she started vomiting again in the night. We were not informed when he took her again to the hospital. According to him, Bose walked with her own legs into the hospital, climbing the row of stairs all by herself.

Act Three: At the hospital, the husband took Bose’s phone and locked it in the car parked downstairs. So she had no access to her phone – to call out or receive in-coming calls. She was held incommunicado. And there was no one else there with the husband and wife. He called noone; he also snubbed repeated incoming calls into his own phone, including from my elder sister, who is Bose’s mother.

Act four: Later that afternoon, the husband called me to say Bose was not responding to treatment and that I should start interceding for her. I was aghast! I had been waiting all day for them to link up with me for a scheduled appointment. Later, a female voice using the husband’s phone called me to quickly come to the hospital. I was on my way there when Bose’s second child, a girl writing exams at the Obafemi Awolowo University, called me, sobbing! “Daddy, what is happening to my Mom? My Daddy called me and said my Mummy is in coma” Coma! “Yes, sir”, the girl replied, “and my Daddy said my Mummy is dead!” I almost lost control of the wheel because I was driving.

Act Five: On getting to the hospital, they had already started embalming Bose! I screamed at the husband, but the hospital staff restrained me. Why the haste? Without any of her family members present! A thousand thoughts ran riot in my head. At 6.28 pm, Bose’s mortal remains were deposited in the morgue and we left.

Act Six: While we were agonizing about how to break the sad news to Bose’s mother, her husband and his family had posted Bose’s death on every conceivable social media platform, breaking the news to her young children, the oldest of whom is just a little over 20 years while the youngest is 14!

Act seven: We the siblings of Bose’s mother wanted a decent burial for her. We wanted her dreams and visions for her children respected. Bose’s husband and his family spurned all of that! They weaponized Bose’s young children against us. They threw their so-called customs and traditions in our face at every turn – as if the Yoruba have no customs and traditions. They employed deceit and subterfuge and hurriedly committed Bose to mother earth without any of her family members present! We warned! They ignored and played games!

Google says Edema is a name answered by both the Urhobo and Itsekiri people of Delta state. Does their culture permit the trumping of Yoruba customs and traditions? Should a husband boast to his children – while their mother was still battling cancer – that, if she dies, he will remarry? So, expect his wedding invitation!

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Had Bose died of cancer, our pains would have been less insufferable; but she did not! Were they tired of the stress and wanted closure so they could move on with their own life? Hastened to her death! Hurried to the grave! This is to put the records straight. Our immediate attention, however, is the good health of Bose’s mother – and Daddy Omiyale’s burial slated for 29th and 30th of October this year.

Let Dr. Segun Osoba rest in power! And eternal rest grant Abosede Oluwayemisi Edema (nee Omiyale), O Lord!

(Published in the TREASURES column on the back page of the Wednesday, 5 August, 2026 edition of the New Telegraph newspaper).