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Utomis
spirited effort to extricate himself from the Soludo Affair falls
into the genre of belligerent mendacity. His nihilistic, not to say
audacity, to round up on his Diaspora based critics through the
flagship, The Guardian, Tuesday May 20, 2008 in a piece titled Nigeria
Public Space and Reason Embattled and the Village Square amount to a
long drivel of whinging waffle of self-indulgent rubbish. It is a waste
of time and a pointless pursuit of imagined enemies which borders on
paranoia. At a time when a little capsule of calm was descending on the
Soludo Affair, then bang, warrior Utomi took to the sky with his B52
bomber to rain insults on those dangerous detractors who are targeting
his intellectual jugular.
His
mawkish exercise of self-flagellation was too much to bear. He
succumbed to moral correctness which had been the bane of our so called
intellectual class. Utomi who should have rather endured the
scandalous abuse, so it seemed, from the Diaspora based internet
warriors, re-armed his muse for battle and behaved like a one-man PR
squad, or to put it brutally, like an arrogant pioneer in the study of
public propaganda, his prime instrument since 1977 for waging endless
battles of hearts and minds of gullible middle class Nigerians.
An
intellectual who is worthy of the name should, as collateral for
invading our public space, so frequently, be ready to be a target of
obloquy and vilification when concern is raised about his professed
moral astringency. In the post-modern milieu in which we all live, work
and die, when there is clearer articulation of animating visions, we
recognise, respect and pay homage to the articulators. However, when a
hiccup occurred in the life and impressive curriculum vitae of a
supposed public commentator as happened in the now famous Soludo
Affair, it is needless to now prettify or justify clear mental and
moral somersault.
The
piece is fastidiously studded with dozen of Utomis contentions; if
anything, more than are required to prove that he is still the king of
the manipulative polemic which had been his instrument of public
coercion since 1977 when he entered into our public universe. He
recognises how the ability of writers to offend could take prisoners of
whom he is now a hapless, famous convict.
He
trenchantly delivers a disturbingly unpersuasive indictment of
shortcomings that have corroded the Nigerias public space which has
now fallen to such dangerous level that nuanced engagement is about
to be neutered by London based beer parlour pundits and the other
band of nattering nabobs of negativism who inhabit the suburbs of
America.
The
Nigeria public space is still imposing, welcoming, unsparing and has at
its heart a divine agenda setting for the Nigerian state in its search
for emerging alternatives, stable democratic governance and social
freedoms.
It
is people like Pat Utomi, a self-proclaimed defender of the moral realm
who obfuscates and demeans the public domain, that market place of
sacred ideas, through his offensive Solomonic appropriation of wisdom.
The picture he paints is of an arrogant, grasping and malevolent
public-seducer gifted with an uncanny ability to hoodwink many of those
who are still over-awed and overpowered by his overrated intellectual
omnipotence.
Dissent
over his views by beer parlour pundits of which clearly I am a torch
bearer, as I could not do without a cold bottle of Baba Dudu is seen
as treason. And again, what is blatantly noticeable is that desire to
intimidate the internet warriors into obsequious worshippers of his
glittering generalities about rational public discourse, the
responsibility of public intellectuals and his vision of the Nigerian
Project.
Utomi
admitted that his consuming passion or what animates his genius is
anchored on the time tested sagacity of his belief that democracy is
about accountability, not just in terms of financial propriety, but
also in terms of stewardship for responsibility.
This
belief is poxed with myth when you weigh in the Soludo Affair. Much as
I would prefer to dismiss this as fawning shibboleths that have been
tossed about like a deflated football from time to time by uppity and
ambitious huggers of our public space, it does not require special
talent to know that virtually all our publicly disrobed thieves have
used the same manipulative rhetoric to hoodwink the masses.
In
another vein, Utomi pre-empted and shot himself in the foot when he
reasoned that, The enthronement of unreason while enough to encourage
flight from the public space must be the very reason for patriots to
enter that space and reclaim it in the interest of progress lest it be
one more excuse for Nigeria to remain great potential 200 years hence. We
have to garland the neck of our virtual writers, beer parlour pundits
or Diaspora based internet warriors with roses for rescuing Nigeria
public space from the hand of doctors and professors of semantic
gibberish.
Assuredly,
and this must be said, the new mandate is to hijack our vandalised and
abused public domain through methodical and restorative renaissance and
ensure that a rearguard is in place against future abuse and
despoliation. A kind of Jihadist approach to refocus and
re-conceptualise nuanced discourse on our terms.
The
momentum that brought about Internet journalism was anchored on the
need to offer genuine and robust alternative ideas and most possibly,
dredge out the cobwebs of public corruption, fight medieval privileges
and ruffle the feathers of few fiends who regarded themselves as
colossus and untouchables in the nascent Nigerias public space. The
internet has heralded a new dawn for trenchant advocacy and if any of
the old hacks now suffers from polemical concussions, we offer no
apologies.
What
has come to distinguish the fervour of Utomis yawning political dream
could be seen in his vaulting illusion to enthrone a business state
in which businessmen and women would rule the Nigerian realm to the
exclusion of all else. His nation building programme is anchored on the
assemblage of VGC, Lekki and Victoria Island errand boys whose material
and cultural idiosyncrasies are atrociously opposite the aspiration of
the common man on our streets.
Perhaps
in ending I must return to a nagging thought which needs proper
conceptualisation. By the way who is an intellectual? Are intellectuals
that motley crew of gobsmackingly good writers who delight us with the
fecundity of their genius? On his part, Edward Said posited that an
intellectual must have an ethical commitment to relentlessly and
unflinchingly speak out, against all odds, against all grains and
against all hegemoniesreal, imagined and self-proclaimed. Can we give
this honour to all holders of Ph. Ds who could string words together in
the public domain? Are university teachers intellectuals?
When
we flatter writers and called them intellectuals, we give them a blank
cheque to behave like a matador, an arrogant ass hole and before we all
know it, they morph into narrow-minded, know-it-all, on your face
charlatans, and not to say, roaming cultural vagabonds who could not
contest our public space with a beer parlour pundit.
Warning!
This piece was written from the trenches of war zone in Harrow and
under the influence of a cocktail of bolugi, paraga and of course,
chilled Guinness.
Tijani lives in London.

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Posted by Robot| 23.05.2008 00:50