I will introduce the last first, or putting it differently, the little known before the better known.
Prostitutes. Prostitution. They say it is the world’s oldest
profession. That assertion I can neither affirm nor refute, and in my
opinion, no one alive can. There is something about the vocation that
compels both practitioners and patrons hoard information. In Nigeria, it
is called artificial scarcity – of data, that is.
Here’s my definition of prostitution: Women (and men) giving
themselves away for the service and enjoyment of others for an agreed
price.
Nasir Ahmad El-Rufai. Gender: Male; I hope. In this perplexing season
of LGBT (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender), one cannot be so sure.
Description: Diminutive. IQ: Very high. He earned a First Class degree
in Quantity Surveying from ABU Zaria back when you got precisely what
you deserved.
After many years of successful (read lucrative) private practice, he
shot into public reckoning as Director General of the Bureau of Public
Enterprises: the agency saddled with the mouth-watering task of
parceling off government investments. His public service career reached
its apogee when he served as Minister of the FCT; and he was unarguably
part of President Obasanjo’s kitchen cabinet. His bold and courageous
efforts in correcting the blatant distortions in the implementation of
Abuja’s master-plan will remain a reference point and a watershed for a
very long time.
El-Rufai drips competence and self-confidence. Sometimes, he’s
verbose and voluble, as if making up for his lack of an imposing
physical presence. You can’t encounter him without coming away with a
strong impression: good or ill.
In a leadership landscape dotted with malformed and stunted trees
bearing inedible and poisonous fruits, he seemed like the proverbial
good tree bearing fruits in thirty, sixty and hundred folds. I had grown
to respect him and everything he stood for – well, almost everything.
While in government, ER was one of the jolly riders on the rampaging
PDP juggernaut. He has since disembarked, preferring to hobnob with the
likes of General Buhari, CPC, the Save Nigeria Group, and lately, the
nascent All Progressives Congress. He has maintained an active presence
in the media, analyzing public policies with his usually
well-articulated criticisms. When you add this to his well-rounded
recommendations, you have a fairly good idea what constructive criticism
ought to be.
Call him a genius, describe him as cerebral and you’ll be absolutely
right. Even the most rabid opinion of him won’t discount this.
His recently released book, THE ACCIDENTAL PUBLIC SERVANT has kicked
up quite some dust. ER is no stranger to controversies. In fact, I think
he sometimes gets his kicks by generating them. What caught my
attention, though, this time around, was not just the caliber of toes
he’d stepped on, but more significantly, how they responded.
President Olusegun Obasanjo and Vice President Atiku Abubakar were
ER’s former bosses. Legend has it that Atiku had ‘arranged’ the accident
that enabled ER into government. In the process of time, ER had so
shifted allegiance to OBJ that, at a point, he literarily referred to
Atiku as a criminal. It must have been during the PTDF saga when Atiku
was alleged to have misappropriated funds. From the way ER sounded on
that occasion, prison for Atiku was a fait accompli.
I’ve always been for tackling official corruption head-on, but what
ER did that day had very little to do with combating corruption. It was
back-stabbing at its ugliest. Even if Atiku was the criminal he claimed,
the task of announcing it should have fallen to someone else, and it
should have been handled in a manner exhibiting a modicum of humanity.
That day, I began to see ER in a new light as an ambitious,
self-centred megalomaniac who could do anything to further personal
initiative. That day, his unraveling began for me.
Atiku did not end up in prison (at least, not yet), Obasanjo’s third
term scheme failed, so the trio has since left the mainstream of
government.
I haven’t read the book but judging from the scathing response from
OBJ, I know ER must have truly intended rubbing his reputation in the
mud: precisely the treatment he’d gleefully administered to Atiku.
Let me get back to prostitution as I relay the tale of two
practitioners. Prostitute A and Prostitute B lived in the same house
suggesting they shared as much cordiality as their peculiar line of
business permitted. They must have become pregnant about the same time
because, three days after PA was delivered of a son, PB followed suit.
Trouble was soon to erupt and these are the details. PB who is
obviously careless sleeps on her baby and crushes him to death. While PA
was yet asleep, she smartly and surreptitiously switches her dead child
with her house mate’s; and pretended to go back to sleep.
PA discovered, while trying to suckle her child in the morning, that
he was dead. There is something about active maternal instincts because
she discerns almost immediately that the dead child wasn’t hers.
PB is also insisting the child is hers so they drag themselves before
their king. The wise King Solomon takes in the comical scenario and
orders the child in contention to be cut in two so each woman will go
with a part. Here’s how each responded to the king’s bizarre ruling.
PA: “Oh no, my lord! Give her the child – please do not kill him!”
PB: “All right, he will be neither yours nor mine; divide him between us!”
Then the wise king brought matters to a fitting closure: “Do not kill
the child, but give him to the woman who wants him to live; for she is
his mother!”
Whatever your opinion of prostitutes and prostitution is, you can’t but
admire PA – the ‘good’ prostitute. And you won’t be blamed if you had
nothing but disdain for PB – the ‘bad’ prostitute.
Having been living together and being involved in the same line of
work, these women would have become friends, sisters and companions.
They would have cared for each other; giving and receiving support and
encouragement. Trust and fierce loyalty usually define such
relationships.
But when the chips were down, each one’s true colours became clearly
evident. PB had no scruples about trampling on all that had bound them
together as long as she had her way.
If you recall how I defined prostitution at the onset, you’ll agree
that definition also fits another critical trade – politics. And I do
not, in highlighting this concurrence, suggest anything demeaning or
derogatory. So if I assert that a politician is a prostitute of sorts, I
do not make any moral judgment. I merely state the obvious.
Nasir El-Rufai is a prostitute – a really smart one at that. But he’s
a bad prostitute; like PB. When the going got tough, he saw nothing
wrong with casting aspersions on his benefactor, Atiku. When it got even
tougher, he had no qualms disparaging OBJ, the very person on whose
behalf he had earlier denigrated Atiku; or so it appeared. For him, no
relationship is so sacrosanct it can’t be repudiated. No ground so holy
it can’t be desecrated; as long as his personal interests are duly
served.
For his ilk, loyalty, honour and integrity are relative and
situational terms: depending on the direction the pendulum of a
self-serving agenda swings. ER may have a good head but I’m afraid he
has a diseased and poorly performing heart.
If he dumps Buhari this evening, it wouldn’t surprise me. If he
lampoons the Emir of Zazzau tomorrow, it will be only in keeping with
his true character. Atiku has counseled copious prayers for him. I
couldn’t agree more.
My ideal leader would be one with a good head and a kind heart.
Unfortunately in Nigeria, we are almost always compelled to choose
between the two. Between the loving/caring moron and the
loveless/conscienceless genius. Between the good prostitute and the bad
one.
So just in case you hear I’m consorting with a prostitute, you should know which, and why.
Saharareporters
She
died last night at Reddington Hospital, Victoria Island, Lagos, few
hours after she arrived from Los Angeles, United States of America.
