When do-gooders do bad (1)

"Africa's worst drought in 60 years," screams the banner. ActionAid is seeking donations - as low as £2 a month - to "help a child like Sadia now." We have no clue what country Sadia is from, but there is no doubt as to her continent of origin - Africa. I have a problem with ads like this. A major problem.

For a while I couldn't put my finger on what my problem with these types of ad was. I just knew there was something not quite right about the "cases for support" made by the likes of UNICEF and ActionAid on behalf of "Africa." Donors love that name (Africa), and fall over themselves to use it every chance they get; every self-respecting donor agency has a presence in Africa. But what is Africa?

Some basics. Firstly, Africa's a continent, not a country. That sounds like stating the obvious, which makes me wonder about ActionAid's claim that they are raising money for "Africa's worst drought in 60 years." Is the drought affecting the entire continent? We are not told.

Secondly, Africa is a pretty big continent. To get an idea of how big it is, you could easily fit the US, Spain, France, UK, Germany, Italy, Eastern Europe, Japan, India AND China into its land mass (see here). Once again, is this drought affecting the entire land mass? We'll have to ask ActionAid to clarify.

Thirdly, Africa is pretty diverse, with over 1 billion people in 61 territories, who have different cultures, speak a multitude of languages (Nigeria alone has over 200), run different socio-political systems, and have different climates. Once again, is this drought affecting all these people? ActionAid does not specify, at least not in the ad.

I did some further digging, and "Africa's worst drought in 60 years" is actually in certain parts of four East African countries, and has affected 13 million people of the entire population of about 130 million in the affected countries. It is clearly an unfortunate state of affairs, one that has likely been exacerbated by failings of the respective governments to adequately prepare (especially when such droughts have happened before). It is heart-warming and encouraging to see people from all over the world chipping in, and I applaud the work being done by agencies like ActionAid to mobilise donations. But I have major issues when donors use sensational banners like those of "Sadia" (who likely comes from an East African country).

I am of the opinion that such ads do more harm than good. I'll explain. If you are reading this, you are likely in the West. So imagine you are on Amazon looking for a christmas gift for a friend, parent or lover. Then you see Sadia's ad. The ad has been designed to grab your attention and tug at your heart - "Africa's in pain, help out with only two quid a month." It works. You do the calculations in your head - that's less than you spend on one drink on Friday evenings, so having one less drink on Friday will make a difference in "Africa." You whip out your card and sign up. You have done your bit for "Africa".

To be continued...

Iron Bat

When I was younger I wanted to be Iron Man. No, don't laugh. I really did want to have megawatts of energy come out a cavity in my chest. Hmmm, that doesn't sound quite right the way I just said it. Anyhow, moving on...

Actually, now that I think about it, I wanted to be Tony Stark being Iron Man; I wanted to be the human in the suit, not the suit itself, you see. Okay, so what I said earlier makes sense now - the megawatts of energy would come out of a cavity in the breast plate of the suit. I hope I'm not losing you as I have a word with myself. Lol.

Back to Iron Man...After changing allegiance from Marvel Comics to DC (don't send hate mail, Marvel fans), I dumped Iron Man and wanted to be Batman (or Bruce Wayne being Batman). Tony had money, but Bruce was in a totally different league in other ways: he had way cooler gadgets, and he had that whole mystery thing going for him. The only minus was the exterior underwear. But hey, nothing in life's perfect.

Looking back now, I realise I limited myself to the characters and stories created by others. Why couldn't I be Bruce Stark, and fly around in an iron suit in the day, AND roam the streets of Gotham at night? Or better yet, be Tony Wayne, and have the suit AND the cape and cool gadgets (sans the external underwear and the silly side-kick)? I let others determine the fantasies that played in my head, and never questioned them because "that was just how it was."

I wonder if I'm doing the same today. Am I, are we, silently going along with scripts others have written for us? Are we thinking outside the boxes society "suggests" we play in? Would we know what to do with ourselves for a decade, if we had all the time in the world, and didn't have to work for money, and could do anything we wanted? Are we truly living, or are we just getting by? Are we being Bruces, or Alfreds?

PS. In support of Occupy Wall Street. A luta continua.

View from my window

Looking out my window, I see a road with several cars, the surrounding buildings, people moving on the side-walk, and a few trees shedding their rusty leaves. So much man-made stuff, so little nature, I say to myself. But is that correct? Is that the truth? Let's revisit that list of things I see, shall we:

The road I see was definitely put there by man, but in the process, he may have had to call on nature for at least two resources - gravel and asphalt; the former is readily available in quarries, and the latter is a by-product of petroleum. How about the cars on the road? The major parts of a car are made of steel (chassis and body), plastic (dashboard, other interior elements, and wire coverings), glass, cloth, and rubber. Each of these is a step, two or three removed from a natural resource. Ditto for the fuel that drives the cars (petroleum). The buildings? Let's see - they are made of bricks, glass, wood, roofing sheets, etc. Same goes for them.

In essence, all I see came from the earth, and will "return" to the earth (the people included). The view may not look "natural", and it's unlikely any college resident would rank it as high as the garden in the Square, but still, everything I see is earth derived; all these things (and the people I see as well) owe their existence - and maintenance - to the earth. I think this partly explains why beautiful architecture amazes me - to see someone do something absolutely stunning with what the earth has given is truly inspiring, especially when I could never do the same.

But back to the issue at hand - everything I see can be traced to a natural resource from somewhere in the world (gravel from England, petroleum from Nigeria, wood from Brazil, etc). We have taken from the earth and built cities and civilisations, and like a good mother, the earth has kept on giving. What irresponsible children we make when we do not care adequately for her, and by extension, for ourselves.

Connecting the dots...

One can't always tell what will matter in the future. Last year I signed up to do volunteer work teaching mathematics to children in a nearby primary school, and a year later, I met and spoke with the Queen because of that decision. Who would have guessed? All my work on the college council meant nothing, as a new team was elected under a month before The Queen's visit! Lucky buggers! Reminds me of how Joseph ended up being Pharaoh's number two, despite his downs and downs in his early years in Egypt; one just can't tell how things will turn out. I like the way Steve Jobs put it - you can only connect the dots looking backwards.

The beautiful thing about connecting the dots is you may not have to change your location or vocation when you connect them; you may be in the same exact situation, one you'd grown used to, but all of a sudden you get it, and everything makes sense. Things seem right, and you appreciate what you have a lot more. It's like C.S. Lewis said, and I'm paraphrasing big-time here, when he said something like "we arrive where we started from and recognise it for the first time." That's what happened to me yesterday.

We went back to the primary school for the first time this school year, and started working with a new set of students. Same school, same classroom, same subject, just younger students. But things had changed for me. Not in some radical, out of the world way. It was just a quiet, unassuming realisation that what we do with the kids really does matter. Even if we only help one child develop their skills in mathematics, it does matter. It matters enough that two of us from the group were introduced to The Queen. It matters enough that we had pictures of the other group members on a board for her to see. We would not have been introduced if what we do doesn't count.

And it mattered all the more yesterday because two of us worked with an incredibly bright boy from a minority background, who likes mathematics and history, and also plays the violin (he's been playing for three years). He loves to learn, and he totally engaged both of us for the entire 90 minutes we spent with him. It was such a joy seeing things through his eyes. I have had experiences like these in the past, but yesterday I connected the dots, and I understood, at a very visceral level, what many people have said about how doing things one enjoys can make a way for one in the world.

Whatever you enjoy doing, do more of it. Become prodigious - produce, invest time, just do it. There's no way to be certain where doing so will take you, but at least you'll enjoy the ride. And if you do end up in a fantastic position, you'll enjoy that, as well as the pleasure of being able to look back and connect the dots. And I guarantee that'll bring a smile to your face, like it did to mine yesterday.

Childlike vs. Childish (Part 1)

The earth. It's a mystery, isn't it? There's so much we don't understand. So much we don't know. And it's all the more amazing because there's a lot we do know. For example, we know how to generate electricity, we know how to transport people through the air, and we know how to send data from one end of the earth to another. These are no small feats. As recently as the 1950s, some countries did not have commercial television (see here), and commercial air travel really took of after World War II (see here). Yet despite these achievements, there are so many things we just do not know, and which we can only hazard guesses at.

I will go out on a limb here and suggest that some of our ancestors were likely just as arrogant in their "knowledge" as some of us are today; yet we look back at those days and remark how un enlightened they were. But the way science is going suggests others will do the same to us. And sooner. Children today are growing up with touch screens. Just think about that. As recently as the 1990s, typewriters were still the mainstream in several countries. Now people talk about tablets and touch screen phones in most parts of the world.

But despite the strides in science and technology, there is still a lot we do not know. And our systems are still far from perfect. There are medical conditions that doctors do not fully understand, and the current economic crises all over the world are a reminder that our leaders (elected or otherwise) don't always have the right answers (nor the right questions, it seems). I am reminded of the movie, "What the bleep do we know?" (see Amazon link here). I haven't seen it, but I do recall it generated quite a buzz when it came out; it seems many people thought its makers' were on to something - namely, that we do not know as much as we think we do, and we lie to ourselves when we suggest otherwise.

So let's play a thought experiment - let's assume we all agree that individually and collectively, we do not know much. We all agree to be less sure of our facts. We all question our unfounded assumptions. And we do this with rigour, and consistently. What would the world be like? Well, for one, we would all be a lot humbler, more teachable. We would be more open to new ideas and new information. We would test things in the real world more. We would learn from mistakes faster, as we would have less of a hold on "what the world should be like." In short, we would retain a child-like curiosity and sense of awe for life.

Child-like is not necessarily childish; one is a attitude of mind, and the other is a state of mind - one can have the former without the latter. How do you know which characterises you? Try answering two questions: 1. When was the last time you found yourself in a state of awe, surrender or sheer delight because of something external to you which you did not - and could not - own or control?; 2. How did you react the last time the world did not lay over and give you exactly what you wanted, the way you wanted it, when you wanted it? If your answers were "can't remember" and "very badly," respectively, then I would suggest both the attitude and state of your mind could do with some work.

I especially like the first question, as it gets to the heart of how we look at the world, and at life. Are we moved by things external to us or are we ever cynical? Do we only care about the things we own or control, or do we pay attention to life in all its fullness? Are we in touch with our capacity to feel awe and reverence, or are we so far removed from this capacity that nothing moves or impresses us? Lastly, are we humble enough to accept that there's a reality larger than us, which we do not fully understand, yet which is there for us to enjoy?

To be continued...

The re-beginning...

And so he went back into his body. He had been clinically dead for only a couple of minutes, during which the doctors had battled to save his life by sending pulses of electricity through him to revive his heart. Little did the doctors know it was up to Jake to determine if to come to or not. But come back he did, based on his conversation with the light bearer. The first thing Jake noticed on reentering his body was the shear weight of it. He had felt free and light just seconds before. All the pains he had forgotten about, especially the one in his chest, the pain that sent him out of his body, came rushing back as he opened his eyes to see the smiles and looks of relief on the faces of the doctors and nurses who had done their best to save his life.

‘Shhhh. Try not to talk,’ cautioned Dr. Earley. ‘Just listen to me. You had a cardiac arrest, and we almost lost you. Thankfully we were able to keep you with us. We’ll move you out of the ER in about an hour. Try to relax. A nurse will stay with you and I and the other doctors will check in every now and then. Oh, and the Prime Minister will be here to see you as well.’ The Prime Minister, thought Jake. He’d totally forgotten about her. How strange. She had been the focus on his thoughts over the last eleven months - how to keep her safe, protect her from obnoxious reporters, and even phone hackers. He had lost his own family while protecting another, and in the time he spent with the light bearer, he had not thought of her once. The only people he had thought about were his ex-wife and his two sons, who no longer called him ‘Dad’ with a joyous tone in their voices, but referred to him as ‘Jake’, just ‘Jake’. But the Prime Minister had not asked him to sacrifice his family. He had made that choice. He loved his job, and he was falling in love with her. Or so he thought.

So why hadn’t he thought about her while he was with the light bearer, Jake wondered to himself. At first it had been a shock discovering himself floating out of his body, and it had taken him a while to get used to it. He saw himself on the hospital bed, and watched the commotion as the doctors and nurses struggled to save him. Dr. Earley was shouting at the top of his voice ‘Stay with me, Jake, stay with me!’ Then he heard a strong, yet gentle voice say ‘Its interesting, isn’t it, watching yourself die and losing all you thought was important, and not being able to do anything about it?’ The voice startled him, and he turned round to look in the direction it came from. He turned and saw a small man with golden hair, smiling at him, wearing a pale-green robe that seemed to shimmer with light. The man held an unlit lamp in his right hand.

‘Hello, Jake,’ said the small man. ‘I am the light bearer,’ he continued. Jake looked at the unlit lamp in the small man’s hand, and sensing what he was thinking, the light bearer responded ‘I see you are wondering why someone called the light bearer is holding an unlit lamp. The lamp is not lit because it cannot be lit until you choose to light it, Jake. That is why I am here.’

‘I don’t understand,’ said Jake.

‘You are about to die. However you have some unfinished business in the earth realm. In such instances I am obliged to give you a choice between letting go of the unfinished business and letting your essence light this lamp, or returning to the earth realm to attend to your unfinished business, and letting the lamp remain unlit. Should you choose to light the lamp, I will carry your essence to the other side. That is why I am called the light bearer. So, Jake, what will it be. Do you want to go back, or cross to the other side?’

An image flashed through Jake’s mind as soon as the light bearer stopped speaking - a picture of his wife and sons, watching him as he packed his clothes and other personal items into a bad, got into his car, and drove off. He had glanced in the rear view mirror and seen his older boy Jack, consoling his mom, as John, the younger boy who he loved more, ran after his car for a while, and then gave up. That had been two months ago, but Jake could still see the picture, and the pain on John’s face, as if it all happened yesterday. Though he hadn’t felt any pain since he left his body, he suddenly felt a massive weight in his heart, dragging him towards his body laid out on the bed in the emergency room. ‘I have to go back now,’ said Jake.

‘Okay, Jake, if that is what you wish. One word of advice, though. Try to remember how you are feeling now while you are in the earth realm, and let the realisation that just dawned on you guide your actions every day. Keep this firmly in your mind as you go through the rest of your life, because the next time we meet, you may not have a choice in whether you light the lamp or not. Goodbye, for now.’ And with that the light bearer was gone, and Jake was back in his pain-riddled body.

Jake was still trying to get his thoughts together. He felt the need to get up, to ask questions. He needed to know what had happened to the shooter. Had the other agents gotten him? Had the Prime Minister been hurt? The last thing he remembered was jumping in front of her as the cameras flashed and he saw a gun being raised behind the row of paparazzis. He knew he had been hit twice, the pains he felt in his torso testified to that, but luckily he had been wearing body armour and the bullets had not done more damage. The Prime Minister, Claire, Jack., John, such a mess he had found himself in. Jake kept thinking as he closed his eyes and drifted into deep sleep.

‘Tell me the truth, Jake. You are in love with her!’ screamed Claire, just before throwing the plate she’d just used forcefully on the floor. White ceramic bits of china flew across the kitchen like shrapnel. One caught Jake in the leg. ‘I know you Jake, you’ve held it against me ever since we had to get married because I got pregnant with Jack. You’ve always blamed me because I forgot to use the pill. I always knew you wanted a different sort of woman, one of those Oxbridge types. I was never good enough for you, was I? Why won’t you just tell me the truth? Why?’ Claire started sobbing uncontrollably. Jack and John came in to see what the commotion was all about. They had been playing video games in the den when they heard something hit the floor. They looked at it each other, both thinking it was an accident. ‘Mom’s dropping things with her butter fingers again,’ said John, but then they heard the shouting and knew there was a problem. Jack ran upstairs immediately, and John followed somewhat reluctantly.

Jack was shocked when he entered the kitchen and saw his mom on her knees, weeping inconsolably, as she tried to pick up the ceramic shards strewn all over the kitchen floor. His dad was just standing, looking at her, motionless. Shock turned to anger as Jack glared at his father and shouted loud enough for the neighbours to hear, ‘Why are you always picking on mom, dad?’ He rushed to Claire’s side to console her, and brought her back to her feet. Claire held him tight as she cried. Jack was only 19, but in the last couple of years had come to be the man Claire looked to in the house, ever since Jake Sr. stopped being emotionally available. Jack stayed at the kitchen door, watching events unfold. His eyes darted between the faces of his brother, his mom and his father. He didn’t quite know what to make of  the scene. He didn’t display any emotion, a trait he had picked up from his dad, but deep inside he wondered what the consequences of all this would be. He was three years younger than Jack, and looked up to his brother, but sometimes he differed with him in the role his mum played the issues facing his parents’ marriage. He just didn’t know what to make of everything, but he knew he didn’t know enough to help his parents save their marriage. Jack had tried to get his parents’ attention by joining a gang and getting into trouble, but that had not had the intended effect of bringing his parents together like he had hoped. If anything, it increased the wedge in his parents’ relationship. Jake was livid when he found out Jack had been involved in a gang shoot-out, and had raised hell in the house, asking how the son of a secret service agent could be involved in such activities. He had turned his anger on Claire, insisting she had spoilt him. Claire retorted that he was never home to enforce discipline. Jake and Jack had not sleep at home that night, one going to an hotel for the night, and the other going to stay with friends after the first left. It had been left to John to console his mom, but he didn’t find the words to stop her from crying till she fell asleep. John felt his mother cried a bit too much. He much preferred the silence of his dad.

The Smith’s marriage had been going through a rough patch in the last two years, and things took a turn for the worse when Jake got assigned to the security detail for the new Prime Minister - Sally Templeton. Mrs. Templeton was the UK’s first female Prime Minister since 1990. She became prime minister at 42, which was all the more amazing because she was a widower, and was totally devoted to her daughter, Penny. Beautiful, articulate, charming, well-educated, and very well connected, she had fought against all odds to rise to the position of Prime Minister in a span of five years after becoming a prominent figure in the Labour Party. She was loved by the media, adored by female groups, and respected by political leaders within the UK, and the rest of the world. An American newspaper had called her ‘Britain’s Obama.’ Jake had watched Sally’s rise to fame with interest, so when he was assigned to her security detail a year after she became Prime Minister, he looked forward to meeting her in person. He had been contemplating asking for a transfer to a less demanding department - he had just turned thirty-eight, and was starting to think his age would tell on him in demanding situations. But he put the idea on hold for a chance to protect Sally Templeton. Besides, the members of her security detail were the envy of all the agents, and he had worked hard to deserve a position on the Prime Ministers security detail.

Jake started his new role with little fanfare. Mrs. Templeton seemed nice, though very business like. She had aged very well, and up close, one could not tell she was 43. Penny was a beautiful fifteen year old who always had a smile on her face, and was friendly with all the staff at Number 10. Jake wondered why his own boys could not be more like Penny. Then one particularly cold day nine months into his new role, Jake held Sally’s hand as he helped her out of a car when she arrived back at Downing Street. The strictly professional relationship changed after that incident. Jake never did understand why, but he knew that was the day they started exchanging furtive glances. This continued for weeks. He felt there was something there, but was afraid to push it. The last thing he wanted was to end up in the tabloids like Diana’s lover. Jake hated undue attention of any sort. Sally not only exchanged glances with Jake, but she also started smiling more at him. Jake found this very difficult to resist, and found himself smiling back sheepishly. Jake was in great shape for his age, and always got compliments from women the few times he went on a night out with friends. But he never allowed things to go too far. He had his principles - work hard, have few friends, keep secrets, and stay loyal. But Sally Templeton was another matter all together. Soon Jake found himself always being the one to help Sally out of the car whenever he was on duty. Each time she would gladly thrust out her hand for him to hold, even when it seemed she did not need help getting out of a car. No one suspected anything, no one except Claire.

‘Why won’t you just tell me the truth?’ said Claire, in between sobs. Jake was speechless. Jack was not. ‘Why are you always making mom cry, dad?’ he asked angrily, as he held his mom. ‘If you want to be with the other lady, then just go! I hate you, I hate her. Just leave us!!’ Jake and John stood motionless in shock as the words hit home. Even Claire seemed startled. Then the phone rang, and Jake woke up. He had been dreaming, but his dream had been a recall of an actual event. He could still feel Jack’s eyes burning into his back as he walked out the kitchen towards the bedroom. John followed him. He had brought out his hold-all, packed some clothes and personal items. John, who had been following him and watching him silently all the while, had asked ‘Where are you going, dad?’ Jake had answered, ‘I need some time to be alone, son. It’s better this way.’ ‘But I don’t want you to go!’ snapped John. Jake had never heard his son so assertive before. Jake had not listened, and had made his way to the car, and driven off, with John running after him. That was the image Jake had when the light bearer told him about his unfinished business. Jake felt emotions well up in him and tears filled his eyes as he imagined the pain he had caused his family. He let the tears flow for a while and eventually forced himself back to sleep. He was drained physically and emotionally.

‘How are you feeling, agent Smith?’ asked Sally Templeton.

‘Much better, Prime Minister, much better. Thank you for asking.’ replied Jake as he sat up in bed and tried to wake himself up. He was still groggy from all the medication. Also there were others in the recovery room, so his appearance and tone had to be formal.

‘Thank you for saving my life, agent Smith. That was very brave of you,’ Sally responded.

‘Just doing my job, Prime Minister, just doing my job. It was nothing.’

The Prime Minister paused. Jake thought he could see a tear in her left eye. She looked sad, and uncomfortable.

‘Did you see the shooter?’ asked the Head of MI6.

‘No, Sir,’ responded Jake. ‘I only caught a glimpse of him lifting the gun up. The lights from all the paparazzis’ cameras made it difficult to make him out. Did you get him, Sir?’

‘Yes we did, Jake. I am sorry to be the one to break this to you, Jake, but it was your son. One of your fellow agents had to shoot him to stop him from taking more shots at you and the Prime Minister.’

Jake felt like a spear had just been driven through him when he heard those words. His mouth went dry, his pulse quickened, and time seemed to slow down. He glanced at the Prime Minister, Sally, and heard himself let out a loud wail, after which he broke into tears. Poor Jack, he had driven him to this. His love for his mom had so blinded him. Jake was beside himself in grief. What had he done? Was this the unfinished business the light bearer had told him about? Where was his chance to set things right with Jack? With Claire? With John? How could he get his family back together after this?

The Head of MI6 continued in a somewhat reluctant manner ‘I am really sorry, Jake. But we need to ask you about this. Just before he passed on he said “All I wanted was my family back”. We know he was your son because your wife and your first born, Jack, have identified the body. So what did he mean by that? Could you...’

Something in Jake snapped, and he was no longer listening. He stared intently at the door, his eyes focused on a small man dressed in a pale green robe, carrying a lamp that had just lit up.

Defining Ignorance (Part 1).

Ignorance (ˈɪɡnərəns). Noun. Definition: lack of knowledge, information, or education; the state of being ignorant.

This post will not follow my usual style, in which I introduce a topic, and then build up my thoughts about it to a conclusion. No. This post starts out with a feeling, a frustration, and aims to follow that in which ever direction it goes. So you and I will be coming to terms with my thoughts about the subject matter together, in real time. I hope I don't lose you.

I have a question - can an educated person be ignorant? According to the definition I started with, ignorance is the lack of knowledge, information or education. So that suggests that someone that is educated is generally not expected to be ignorant. However, is it always the case that an educated person is knowledgeable, or informed? No. I am sure most of us have met PhDs that were totally clueless outside their area of specialisation. So we can assume that being "schooled" does not automatically make one informed or knowledgeable. But shouldn't a person that has gone through the schooling process know what they don't know? Given the magnitude of information in the world today, shouldn't a "schooled" person know that they cannot know everything, and hence are bound to be uninformed about many issues? And if a schooled person comes to that conclusion, then shouldn't humility be the natural outcome? Hence, we can infer that we are all ignorant to some extent, and are anything but humble when we try to come across as otherwise. Repeat after me, "I'm ignorant, you're ignorant, and that's okay."

I know a lot of things from books I have read. I have second-hand information. When I was young we had two books I remember quite well - one was about origami (the Japanese art of making objects out of paper), and the other was about "soccer" (it was an American book). I devoured those books, but I am not an origami master or World Cup winning footballer today. Was I ignorant about origami or soccer? No. I had knowledge. I was informed. I had read the books. I could point you to the page that gave intricate details on how to make a paper crane, or kick a ball with the instep. Or to the page that explained how Pele went wild when he scored his 1,000th goal. But I could not, and still cannot, make a paper crane (I can kick a ball with my instep though, but am hundreds of goals from 1,000). Am I ignorant about these things? No. Am I skilled in these things? No. Hence this suggests one can be educated, yet unskilled. One can have knowledge, but be clueless about how to apply it. This suggests to me that there is second-hand knowledge, and first-hand know-how. One comes from reading, the other from living. Hence a schooled person can be ignorant on two levels.

So since I am ignorant on at least two levels about many things in the world, how am I to get by? How am I to survive? How am I to become a success? We'll come back to this; I feel like going on a tangent.

How is it that with all the social media sites and news channels, we are all still so ignorant about each other, yet think we have each other all figured out? When next you are at a party, listen to the conversation about other countries. Better if you can shadow someone from an "exotic country" as they mingle with other people in the party; the display of ignorance may amaze you. And it's not just the ignorance, but the confidence with which many may state their misinformed views. Why do people find it so hard to say, "I know nothing about this except what the mass media has told me, and I know it's all likely bullocks. Now, you tell me the real deal." Perhaps it's because they don't want to know the real deal. It's too much work, you see. It's better - and easier - to pretend to have information just because you saw it on CNN or Fox News. You can't be accused of being ignorant if you know what the mass media says about an issue.

We are losing all sense of humility. We think we know things, but we don't know anything, at least not really. Real knowledge doesn't come cheap. That's why people spend five years earning PhDs, and even more years become doctors. Would you allow someone that's spent a year in med school to operate on you? Intuitively you know they can't be very good because they haven't spent enough time acquiring the second kind of knowledge I talked about earlier. So why do we think the sound bites we hear in the news make us informed? We are engulfed by information, but lack real knowledge, whether of the first or second kind. People don't even read whole books any more; they want the cliff notes versions.

I think we need to slow down as a race, and stop trying to do so much, stop scattering ourselves, stop spreading ourselves so thin. We cannot know everything, and there's no point pretending we can. We are all ignorant in one way or another. But it's one thing to be ignorant and to know it, and it's quite another thing to insist on portraying one's self as educated, which in reality usually just means "formally schooled". Before the advent of formal schooling, learned men (they were usually men) invested time getting the second kind of knowledge I talked about in their areas of interest, and they usually continued well past their 30s and 40s. They didn't stop learning. Now we go to school for a couple of years, learn, graduate, and some of us hardly pick up a book post graduation. Not only do we not pursue knowledge in a disciplined, consistent fashion, we also seem to throw humility - the basic acceptance that we do not know - out of the window. Many of us become unteachable, stuck in our ways, never questioning our deeply held beliefs and assumptions.

Interesting. I didn't know I had these thoughts. I wonder in what ways I have been guilty of the same things I have just mentioned. Running out of juice here. Need to take a break. Let's just call this part 1 of whatever number of parts we eventually end up with...

The parable of the prodigal son (a guide to economic development)

You've probably heard the parable of the prodigal son a couple of times, so I won't make you read the whole thing (however for those who want to, you can find it here). However I will share a quick overview, before going into my interpretation, which as the title shows, focuses on economic development (one of my favourite topics). So a man had two sons. The younger one decided to take his fate into his own hands, and asked his father for his share of the inheritance, while he was still alive. People in the village would probably have gasped - what did the boy know about managing wealth? Did he really think he could make it on his own in the cold, hard world, without his father's support and guidance? Villagers' doubts aside, he collected his share and went out into the world to try his luck. Well, he failed, miserably too. But he learned from his failure, swallowed his pride, and went back to his father to ask for a job. His father would have none of that, and instead threw a lavish party for his son who had returned home.

Let's pause for a second before getting to the part about the older brother. The prodigal son showed initiative. Yes he was brash, but he was willing to be his own man. He was no coward, this prodigal son. Stupid, perhaps, but no coward. He saw no reason why he could not do what he had seen his father do, i.e. make money and manage it. And he had the guts to ask for what he wanted. And he got it! He failed, but he was humble enough to face reality, and made his way back to his father to learn what he thought he knew when he left. I can easily see him becoming a wealthy business man a couple of years after returning home, the humiliation he suffered in foreign lands prompting him to learn all he could from his father while he was still alive. The prodigal son displayed certain traits: believed in himself and his abilities; considered it posssible he could do as well as his father; asked his father for what he wanted; struck out on his own; faced reality when he failed; humbled himself and returned home; learned all he could to ensure he never suffered again.

Now let's discuss the older btother. Interestingly, he doesn't really appear till later in the parable. We know he exists from the very first verse, but he seems to remain in the shadows till his brother comes back home. It's almost as if he is defined by the actions of his younger brother, the brash one. So, he's retuning from the field where he's been working all day with the slave hands. He doesn't even know there is a party going on at home. No one has sent for him. No one has informed him. He has to ask a slave hand why there is a party going on. That says a lot about him, and his position in the hierarchy. I would go as far as saying he saw himself as more of a slave, than a son. Listen to what he says, "Look how many years I've stayed here serving you, never giving you one moment of grief, but have you ever thrown a party for me and my friends? Then this son of yours who has thrown away your money on whores shows up and you go all out with a feast!". His view of himself is right there, isn't it? He sees his position as serving his father, and not giving him a moment of grief (interpretation - not making demands, and respecting his own needs, which he surely had). Then there's the expectation that his father should have rewarded him for his good behaviour by throwing a party for him and his friends. Listen to how he even describes his brother, "this son of yours who has thrown away your money". Did you catch it? He said "your money", not "our money". He still saw himself as having nothing, with everything belonging to his dad. His dad's response shows the older son was totally mixed up - "son, everything that is mine is yours!" Of course it was. It had always been, but the older son could not see that, and the younger one did. 

Now let's bring it home. I saw some pictures of Victoria Island flooded after the most recent downpour. There was a particular picture in which a car that had been parked was almost covered by water. Then I remembered how I had often seen live power cables dangle from poles, and give off sparks. I just imagined that happening with water everywhere. I'm sure you get the picture. Then I started to wonder why things like this happen in Nigeria. What does it take to clear out drainage so water can flow? What does it take to fix power cables so they don't dangle? We do not see things like this in the developed world, so why are they so rampant in Nigeria? I argue that it is because we think more like the older son, than the prodigal one.

Remember the traits of the prodigal son I listed three paragraphs ago? Well, the West (and increasingly, Asia) displays most of them. They believe in themselves. They seriously consider the fact that they can do what God/nature does (China is said to have used new technology to stop rains from falling at the last Olympics). They insist on getting what they want, and they are willing to go it alone to achieve their goals. They face reality when things don't work out, and are humble enough to go back to the drawing board to get answers. They are always asking questions, always conducting research, always learning. Yes, at times they show the less than stellar traits of the prodigal son: arrogance, thinking it's all about them, depravity, etc. But hey, no one's perfect, least of us we lot in Nigeria. We hide behind a moral facade, but we all know that we can be as depraved as the next man (which I am sure was the same for the older son, who probably had desires like his brother, but just knew how to hide them). Unfortunately for us, we also share many other traits with the older son: we expect God/nature to do things for us, to reward us for our worship, our behaviour, our tithes. We are too timid to demand for what we really want as a group, which explains why our leaders can steal and do whatever they want, and nothing happens. We do not see that the wealth of the world is ours as much as it is the West's, and we seem comfortable being fringe players. Like the older brother, we are defined by the actions of our younger brother (if you believe that life started in Africa). They tell our stories for us (for example, the Broadway show "Fela"), define us, and determine what we can or cannot do (the West's influence in choosing African leaders has been well documented, and Wikileaks showed how we are still being manipulated behind the scenes).

So my take is that until we change our attitude to God/nature, we will remain like the older brother - on the outside while the economic party between the West and Asia is going on. How do we change this? We have to stop living in deception. We have to honour our desires and wishes. We have to ask for what we want (improved quality of life for our people) and be willing to take risks to secure it. When we fail (and we will fail every now and again) we have to face reality, learn from our mistakes and move on. We have to conduct research to discover the secrets of the world hidden in plain sight, and apply them to solve our problems. God will not come down from Heaven to clear blocked drainage and reattach dangling power cables. He's provided all we need to do those things. It's time we stepped up to our responsibility to exercise dominion. And if we're not ready to, we'll remain slave hands to our younger brothers.

The case of The Speaker's 10 billion (part 6)

Bankole arrested (see details here).

A step in the right direction, but I am not rejoicing yet. Remember Tafa Balogun? He stole billions (see here for full list of charges), yet spent under a year in prison (see here). He is now a free man, enjoying the remainder of his loot that the EFCC was unable to trace.

So kudos to GEJ for stopping Bankole from eloping (he was meant to have fled the country this morning). But I reserve my applause until this case reaches its logical conclusion, with all the funds returned, Bankole jailed and stripped off all honours, and checks and balances put in place to ensure this type of thing does not happen again.

Let's see how this latest episode of the ongoing soap opera in Nigerian government (which I have titled "The lifestyles of the corrupt and infamous") unfolds.

A day out in the park...

I'm sitting on a bench
overlooking a valley
with shadows of clouds
moving across the green fields below
where I see a tree here, there
and an orange roof in the distance
it's a beautiful sight

A rabbit darts through the shrubs
a stone's throw from me
and birds are chirping
on either side
of the bench Peter built
which I sit on
I know his name
for he left his signature
on the back rest

I look around
different shades of green
lime, rusty, brown
if this isn't bliss
I don't know what is

A golden retriever walks lazily behind me
some meters ahead of its owner
I look away from the handsome dog

and see a beautiful brown butterfly
dancing between my legs

Such peace
such rightness
till a bloody jet flies overhead!

Sanusi was right, forget the seven-point agenda!

No disrespect to the late president, but the seven-point agenda was a lot of hot air. I sincerely hope GEJ does not continue the farce. I wonder why politicians over-complicate things that are relatively simple and straight-forward. Could it be that they themselves do not understand the issues? Or is it that they think they have to sound smarter than they are, for our benefit? 

A simple example will drive home my point. President Yar'Adua was a family man. While alive, he was responsible for making sure his wife and children had food to eat, clothes to wear, a house to live in, etc. How would he have known if he was doing a good job? Two options come to mind: 1. Compare aspirations to actual; 2. Compare actual to what contemporaries are doing. Nothing complicated about that. He would have set up processes and structures to ensure that he met his aspirations or outperformed his peers. He would have decided on jobs to take and investments to make with that singular purpose in mind. Would he have needed a seven-point agenda? I think not.

Nigeria does not need a seven-point agenda, a Vision 20: 2020, or any other similar government proclamations, which the authors, as well as the citizenry, know are not worth the paper they are written on. What we need is development. Plain and simple. We need our leaders to think about the country the same way they think about their families. We need our leaders to care enough about Nigeria's international reputation, and be angered that we are poster boys for lack and under-development. Am I asking for too much?

Let's return to the late president. Had he approached the management of Nigeria's affairs as he surely approached the management of his family's, what might he have done differently? Well, what would have been a good aspiration to have for his "children"? A per capita income of $10,000, which would put us at about the same standard of living as citizens of Poland, Lithuania, St. Kitts and Nevis, Libya, Chile and Seychelles. Don't laugh, there are millions of Nigerians who would gladly move to any of these countries (even Libya, with all the fighting going on!).

To achieve this target per capita income, the president would have had to find ways to get per capita GDP up to $10,000 from its present $1,118, in essence growing Nigeria's GDP to $1,400 billion ($10,000 for each of the country's 140 million people). Let's put that figure in perspective - our documented GDP for 2009 was $173 billion. Growing our GDP by 800% would put us on par with Spain, Canada and Russia. I think you would agree that these countries would be more to the liking of most Nigerians, than those listed in the last paragraph. The GDPs of the three countries place them in the top twelve economies in the world, and aside from Russia, these countries have significantly lower populations than Nigeria, meaning per capita income figures are much higher than the target suggested for Nigeria (Spain's is $31,774, while Canada's is $39,599).

Now comes the hard part - what could Umaru have done to achieve this level of development? The same thing the governments of the developed countries do:

1. Provide an enabling environment for individuals and businesses to add value locally and globally - invest in health and education (especially research), provide infrastructure, ensure access to credit so people can purchase goods and services.

2. Use political clout and muscle to ensure individuals and businesses have access to international markets - a country's citizens should be able to work anywhere in the world, if they have the right qualifications. A country's businesses should also be able to compete globally. Nigeria's reputation is not helping in this regard!

3. Get out of the way - ensure systems to foster development are in place, do not change policies at whim!

The developed world has followed this formula to a tee. That is why we have American oil companies running our oil sector. This is why we have foreign companies extracting our minerals. Also explains why we have foreigners managing our domestic airlines. Few people in Nigeria thinks twice about hiring a foreign firm or a foreign national to do important work in the country. Why? Because experience has shown they are likely to be more productive and more trust-worthy. Which explains why we have Indians running some of the biggest companies in Nigeria today (Globacom, being a key example).

Until Nigeria is conducive for business, as well as self-development and self-expression on an individual level, we will not see the kind of growth that will lift the bulk of our people out of poverty. Can you imagine a Nigeria with an economy the size of Canada's? What would major cities like Lagos and Abuja look like? You would see diverse businesses in key high-growth sectors (ICT, finance, medicine, etc.), a functional postal system, variety of on-line retailers, an abundance of private-sector owned buildings for commercial and residential purposes, a functional ports system, an active tourism sector, luxury goods retailers in high-brow areas, etc. 

The picture I just painted is similar to what you see in developed countries, isn't it. Why can't it happen in Nigeria? Largely because the private sector is not productive enough and also does not invest enough, and also because the government discourages it from doing either. It's time we killed this dysfunctional co-dependency, and let each sector do what it does best, as best as it can. That should have been Umaru's focus. That should be GEJ's focus. One agenda, one focus, less hot air.

Two men on the tube...

They're both greying
Asian, clearly
Exchanging banter
After a hard day's work
An occasional smile
A responding twinkle
The youth of their hearts
Belied by the lines on their faces
Their hands are rough
(they're labourers, you see)
But their eyes are soft
Just like their hearts
One complains about his rough hands
Bruised after a day of carrying bricks
The other shows his own cuts
And then reaches in his bag
To bring out a tube of hand lotion
The message seems clear
I lost myself in our chat
And forgot about my hands
Till you showed me yours
Two men on the tube
Oblivious to the world around them
Only they know where they're going
And that's okay, very okay
Because they're together, neither is alone

What's in my head?

You can't see it
Whatever it is
You can't tell what I know
Where I've been
Just by looking at me
Am I smart? Well read?
Am I "slow"? Can you tell?
Let's say I'm a book
What does my cover tell you?
Is my cover my skin?
Is it my clothes? My physique?
Have I read that book?
The one you hold so high
For all to see?
Have I met the author?
Read all his books?
You'll never know
Just by looking at me
And I'll never know
If all I've suggested is true
Just by looking at you
We're even then...

The case of The Speaker's 10 billion (part 4)

Yesterday’s post marked the halfway point in this series, so I think it makes sense to briefly summarise the main points I made in prior posts, before going on to the topic for today, namely Nigeria’s challenges in, and potential for, economic development and job creation. 

I hope by now I have been able to convince you of two points: the amounts usually involved in government corruption scandals in Nigeria are inordinate, even by global standards; and the spread and magnitude of corruption is largely due to an implicit agreement between Nigerians and their government, that allows the latter to run its own oil-based “parallel universe”, fuelled by private oil companies (couldn’t resist the pun). Based on the latter point, I propose that Nigeria has three sub-economies, as follows:

a. Sub-economy #1 - oil-based, and part of documented GDP. Revenue largely from oil companies. Expenditure determined by government.

b. Sub-economy #2 - non-oil based, and also part of documented GDP. Revenue and expenditure determined by hard working Nigerians. 

c. Sub-economy #3 - non-oil based, but undocumented. Similar to sub-economy #2 in terms of revenue and expenditure.

Sub-economy #1 gets the most attention in public discourse, yet at best accounts for only 15% of documented and undocumented GDP. As a nation we have become so fixated on the distribution of government revenue (read, oil revenue), to the extent that we have let it take on an importance that it may not deserve; we seem to be more interested in how this particular cake is divided, than in making all cakes bigger. And in so doing, we have also given our government a lot more credit than they deserve for our development. The truth is, our government, even if it were about to do away with corruption today, cannot finance the public goods and services we need on its own. According to the CBN, in 2009, all three tiers of government earned NGN 6,263 billion, and their aggregate expenditure was NGN 7,258 billion (the government financed the deficit largely from domestic borrowing). If you divide total government expenditure by 140 million (the figure for Nigeria's population), you get a figure of about NGN 52,000. This figure represents what each Nigerian could have gotten in 2009, had the private oil companies by-passed the three tiers of government, and shared the oil revenue due to the nation amongst all of us. It doesn't amount to much, though, does it? And your personal experience probably tells you it costs much more than NGN 4,300 a month to run one's own "local government" in Nigeria (diesel for the generator alone used to set me back about 5 times that amount).

So what do we do? Or better yet, what would I do, if I had the ability to change things? My over-arching approach would be to strengthen sub-economies 2 and 3, on a state by state basis. I would also seek to reform sub-economy 1, to enable it provide essential, foundational public goods and services (electricity, security, education and water, for example) at national and state levels. Should such a reform prove unsuccessful (wouldn't hold my breath on that one), I would bring in private businesses to provide the essential public goods and services to Nigerians for a fee, and levy a tax on sub-economy 1 (an at-source tax on oil companies) to generate revenue to subsidize payments made by Nigerians. That last bit will likely never happen!

But strengthening the truly productive sub-economies is feasible, and it makes good sense. We have a large population that needs food, clothes, fuel, housing, entertainment, etc. It is a shame that we rely on imports to satisfy some of our most basic needs (the importation of toothpicks and pencils come to mind, despite the abundance of wood in the country). Our businesses also have access to other West African markets, which have similar needs, and are likely having these needs being met more by Chinese companies, than Nigerian ones. Take Ghana, for example. China accounts for the highest percentage of imports at 17% of total, while Nigeria comes second with 12% (though I suspect some of the goods from Nigerian-based businesses are imported from China, and other countries, for onward delivery to Ghana). In Benin and Togo, China accounts for 36% of imports, while Nigeria’s imports are less than 4% of total in each (figures for Nigeria don't even register on the data source I checked - the CIA Factbook). 

For Nigerian businesses to be strengthened to meet domestic and foreign needs, they require an enabling business environment which provides adequate infrastructure, access to capital, an educated workforce, and a functional legal system, to name a few critical requirements. The lack of these has contributed to Nigeria being ranked as number 137 (of 183 countries) in IFC’s Ease of Doing Business national rankings. These ranking are only for businesses in the formal sector, so one can imagine how much tougher it is for businesses in the grey economy (sub-economy 3), who have peculiar challenges of their own, because they are on the fringes of the formal economy. Hence they tend to be limited in their ability to raise capital, obtain insurance services, and secure other inputs that formal businesses can gain access to. The micro-finance banks were set up to address the capital needs of this sub-economy, but only time will tell what their impact has been.

A strong business sector would also help with another problem Nigeria is facing—high unemployment. According to the World Bank, 25% of Nigeria’s working age population (people between 15 and 65 years of age) are unemployed. Of the 75% that are employed, 65% are self-employed, and 10 percent are in wage employment. Of the 10% in wage employment, about half are in the public sector (recall the point made in yesterday’s post about the fact that the Federal Government alone employs over one million people). Hence even the population statistics show the relative imbalance in the sub-economies, as sub-economy #1 is unlikely to account for more than 6% of employment (including employment in the public sector, as well as direct and in-direct employment in the oil industry), while it accounts for about 15% of GDP. But I digress. Having an environment that enables private enterprise will allow businesses in the formal and informal sectors to create jobs, which will go some way in reducing the likelihood that one out of every four adults you and I meet in Nigeria will be unemployed, or worse, unemployable (more on that tomorrow). 

In closing let me share the story of Foxconn, a story I love to tell to anyone who will listen. You may have never heard of the company before, but you have surely heard about the goods it produces – iPods and iPhones, to name just two. The Taiwan-based company was founded in 1974 with US$7,500. Its mission was to provide low-cost electronic components to what was then an emerging electronic products market – imagine what the computer industry looked like back then (more info here). Thirty-five years later, Foxconn now ranks 112th on Fortune's Global 500 list, coming out ahead of Deutsche Bank and Microsoft (you can see the 2010 rankings here). Bloomberg estimates are that the company has 1.3 million employees across all its businesses (see for yourself here). This company employs almost 5% of Ghana's population, and 1% of Nigeria's. Talk about impact! How did Foxconn do it? It saw an opportunity long before others did (this shows the importance of research, which I will discuss tomorrow), and it was within an enabling environment that allowed it to exploit said opportunity. 

For Nigeria to develop, stories like Foxconn's have to become the norm, and not the exception (as is the case with the likes of Dangote, Glo and Oando, today). The only way our economy can grow and create jobs for our labour force of over 45 million people (11th largest in the world, by the way) is if more businesses succeed in adding value domestically, regionally and globally. And these businesses need an enabling environment to succeed. But don't look to the likes of Mr. Speaker to help with that; they are too busy building their retirement nest eggs, so their great-grand children's great-grand children will still be living off the interest on the capital they are stashing away today.

The case of The Speaker's 10 billion (part 3)

In yesterday’s post, I shared my understanding, based on publicly available information, of how the three tiers of the Nigerian government make money. The summation was that government revenue is largely derived from oil, and taxes make up a minor portion of the revenue base. I argued that this situation contributes to the unresponsiveness of our “leaders” to the clamour by the proverbial common man for a better quality of life. I want to take a similar approach of working with publicly available information for today’s topic, namely how government spends money, but I admit upfront that it will be much tougher, as thieves typically do not issue receipts.

Most of us understand that what we spend is largely determined by what we earn. However we also know that we can borrow if we need to buy something, and don’t have enough money tucked away. The same applies to governments. Most of us also know from personal experience that costs are fairly certain, but income is not always guaranteed. Things happen—for example, salaries may be delayed, and bonuses may not materialise—but the landlord (or bank, if one has a mortgage) has to be paid, groceries have to be purchased, and school fees catered for, amongst several other financial obligations. The same applies to governments, especially those that rely on revenue from the sale of a commodity whose price and production they do not control, and whose costs are almost set in stone and seem to rise, year on year. When government revenue from crude oil and gas sales cannot cover budgeted costs (as is often the case), they do what any good capitalist does—borrow! (They can also print extra money, but don’t let’s complicate things by adding that.) The government can borrow locally (from you and I, as well as from banks and other businesses), and it can also borrow internationally. Hence the government is able to spend more than it earns, but of course, this comes at a price, i.e. interest payments.

I know your parents likely warned you of the dangers of borrowing, but l will let you in on a secret—it is not such a bad thing. Most governments borrow, and I believe many of us, if we are honest, would like to have access to affordable, long-term credit, so we can improve our standards of living (whether it’s to invest in stocks, move to a nicer place, buy a better car, or just take a dream vacation). So borrowing by itself is not a problem. The problem comes when one uses borrowed funds on “white elephant projects”, or worse, when such funds go directly into pockets like Mr. Speaker’s (which is technically what happened, prompting this series of posts). But I am getting ahead of myself here. Let’s get back to the issue at hand, i.e. how the Nigerian government spends what it earns and borrows.

I will begin the discussion with Big Daddy, i.e. the FG, as I did in yesterday’s post. The FG spends the money it borrows and earns (from FACC, VAT and IGR, as described yesterday), in three main ways: 

1. transfers it is required to make by law (funding of the judiciary and the Niger Delta Development Commission, and contributions to Universal Basic Education); 

2. payments of interest and capital on outstanding debt obligations; 

3. disbursements to MDAs (acronym stands for ministries, departments and agencies, and includes entities like FERMA, FRSC, Ministry of Finance, and the National Assembly), for the provision of FG funded public goods and services. 

Transfers and debt service payments have historically made up about 5% and 25% of FG expenditure, respectively, and MDA funding has made up the balance of 70%. Let’s focus on MDA funding, shall we. MDA funding is used to finance capital expenditure (investments in federally maintained roads, schools, the police, the army, etc), as well as recurrent expenditure (which covers employees’ salaries, pension contributions, and operating overheads). MDA recurrent expenditure accounts for about 60% of total, so for the FG, 42% (60% of 70%) of its total expenditure goes to recurrent expenditure within MDAs alone! Does this make sense? What would you think of a friend who spends close to 70% of his monthly income on running expenses and debt obligations, especially if he has children? Think about that for a minute. 

Then think about this – you may have heard about the problem of “ghost workers” in government establishments, people that are on the books of the government as deserving of monthly emoluments, but who do not exist. The Okonjo-Iweala document I referred to in my last post, stated that over one million people worked for the Federal Government at the time of its publication. You can begin to put two and two together, and come up with four, i.e. that recurrent expenditure must surely be a very BANKable source of income for those that have the means. You may also have heard about how our “public servants” grossly inflate estimates and allocations for overhead expenses, and may recall that in 2010, a group accused some senior officials of the Lagos State government of spending “N290million to send text messages and make phone calls within six months” (follow this link to the full set of allegations). So clearly, recurrent expenditure is one way to chop, for both FG and state governments.

Before shifting focus fully to state and local governments, let’s quickly touch on MDA capital expenditure, which makes up 28% (40% of 70%) of total FG spending. MDA capital expenditure funds the federally maintained infrastructure that we “enjoy”, and its lower position in the pecking order partly explains the poor quality of most, if not all, federally funded public goods and services— federally maintained roads, federal government colleges, federal universities, national service providers like PHCN, etc. The money may not be enough to do what it is meant to do (more on that tomorrow), but that doesn't stop our government officials from chopping as much of it as they can! Inflated road contracts, machines that are bought but never arrive (or worse, were bought twice!), repairs on equipment that are paid for but never carried, the list goes on, and on. Reading this, one may think chopping only occurs at the MDAs, and that there are few opportunities for such when it comes to transfers. Nothing could be further from the truth. It’s simply different slices of the national cake for different folks, you see. Those that receive transfers get their own opportunities to chop. It’s like that saying—a hose that is used to move water cannot but get wet. In our case, the hose gets so wet that very little water comes out at the other end.

The states and local governments are no better. According to the CBN, in 2009, recurrent expenditure accounted for 51.4% of total expenditure by all state governments. States allegedly spent most of their total expenditure (recurrent and capital) on the following areas: education (8.4%), health (5.4%), agriculture (5.7%), water supply (3.6%) and housing (2.3%). Have you felt the impact of this expenditure? Would you send your children to public schools or use public health facilities? Has your state contributed to providing you a home? Has it even provided water to the home you are in now, whether it contributed to providing the home or not? We deceive ourselves, honestly. For local governments, recurrent expenditure made up 66% of total. Your guess is as good as mine on how the money was really spent.

I have just outlined how the three tiers of government spend money. On a good day (as Nigerians say), if there was no stealing, this is how the money would have been spent to provide public goods and services for our benefit. You could say it represents a ceiling. But we all know what actually gets to us all is a lot lower, don’t we, as there have been numerous stories of diversions by our “public servants”, the latest of which is that of a top government official who used diverted funds to buy a palatial house and fund a lover’s political ambitions. You know of whom I Speak. 

So this is the fact of the matter—our government has created a parallel universe, in which it generates and “spends” money on itself and selected people, totally separate from the rest of us. And records on expenditure are not readily available, just to ensure this parallel universe is maintained. No wonder so many are so willing to do whatever it takes to enter the clique.

Tomorrow I shall begin touching on the effect of this sorry state of affairs on the nation’s prospects for development. I will specifically discuss the impact on two areas that I believe are essential for Nigeria’s growth–business and education. Stay tuned.

PS. I would appreciate feedback on this series of posts. Are my explanations clear? Do you have data or other information that refutes some of my assertions? It would be nice to know. Thank you.

The case of The Speaker's 10 billion (part 2)

Yesterday, I suggested that Nigerians have reached an implicit agreement with their government not to “disturb” each other, and it is this agreement that allows “leaders” and “public servants”, to help themselves to the government’s revenue, which is largely oil based. Today I present an overview, which is based on publicly available information, of how the Nigerian government makes the money the likes of Mr. Speaker readily help themselves to. 

Like other national governments, the Nigerian government makes money primarily off the sweat of its corporate and individual citizens. Hence we begin with an overview of how Nigerians and Nigerian businesses make money. The CBN suggests it is largely from the agricultural sector, which accounts for about 40% of all goods and services produced in the country each year (what economists call Gross Domestic Product, or GDP). Next is a sector defined as “Industry and Crude Oil”, which has historically accounted for between about 20% and 30% of GDP, depending on several variables (price of crude oil, disturbances in the Niger-Delta, and OPEC quotas, to name a few). The “Services” sector (consisting of communications, financial services and transportation) accounts for about 17% of GDP, as does a sector called “Wholesale and Retail Trade”. The balance is made up by a sector called “Building and Construction”. In essence, most of the money made in Nigeria comes from agriculture, industry (made up largely of oil), services and trade. Most of the money comes from sales within Nigeria, but a small proportion comes from sales to citizens of other countries, of which the sale of crude oil and gas accounts for about 95% of total. 

Now some argue that a lot of the business activity in Nigeria is not captured by our statisticians, and that a sizeable grey economy exists in the country. This line of argument makes sense – we all know unregistered businesses that operate out of sight of government and the people at the National Bureau of Statistics. And one need not look further than the swarm of okada riders on Lagos roads. Who records the money they generate? Given these very valid points, some researchers set out to determine the size of Nigeria’s informal economy. One such research, conducted by the World Bank, estimates that Nigeria’s grey economy accounts for about 77% of documented GDP. Factoring that into the calculations of per capita GDP increases Nigeria’s 2009 figure from $1,118 to $1,978; an improvement, but still some way from documented per capita GDP for developing countries like Brazil ($8,230), Mexico ($8,143), and Botswana ($6,064). If it makes you feel better though, we are ahead of Ghana ($1,098), Benin ($745), and Togo ($431). 

Now we come to the Nigerian government itself. As mentioned earlier, like other national governments, it makes money primarily off the sweat of others’ labour—specifically the private oil companies (POCs), in its case. The Federal Ministry of Finance published an interesting document during Okonjo-Iweala’s tenure. It was called the “Guide to understanding the federal budget”. I believe that document should be mandatory reading for all Nigerians. Why? Because it shows how “our government” makes the bulk of its money. In a nutshell, inflows into the notorious Federation Account (which the three tiers of government depend on for their existence, and more importantly, their “chopping”), are made up primarily of the following oil-based revenue sources: sale of the country’s own share of crude oil and gas produced by joint-venture operations with POCs; Petroleum Profit Tax levied on the profits declared by POCs (85% of declared profit!); royalties on every barrel of oil produced, whether produced by a joint-venture operation or not (20% of value!). 

The balance of the inflows into the Federation Account come mainly from Corporate Income Tax on non-oil companies (30% of profits) and duty fees charged on imported goods (between 0 and 50% of value). A committee (the Federation Account Allocation Committee, or FAAC) meets monthly to share the spoils between the three tiers of government, using the following ratio: Federal Government, 52.68%; 36 state governments, 26.72%; and 774 local governments, 20.6%. I won’t even begin with a discussion of the absurdity of this ratio.

There is another important source of revenue for the three tiers of government, namely revenue from Value Added Tax on goods and services (5% of value). This revenue is paid into another account (called the VAT pool), and is shared in a way that favours the state governments over the Federal Government (FG): states get 50%, local governments get 35% and the FG gets 15%.

These aforementioned revenue sources have historically accounted for the FG’s allocation from the FAAC account as follows: crude oil sales (44%); petroleum profit tax (20%); oil royalties and rents (10%); Corporate Income Tax (5%), custom duties (9%), and Value Added Tax (6%). Independently Generated Revenue (IGR), which represents revenue from others sources besides FAAC and VAT receipts, has historically accounted for about 4% of total. As you can see, even Big Daddy is hugely dependent on oil revenue, as it accounts for about 74% of total.

These figures are only for the FG. Let us turn our attention to the state and local governments. The CBN’s annual report for 2009, the most recent full year report, shows the way these tiers of governments make money. In 2009, only three states (Lagos, Sokoto and Ogun) achieved figures above 29% for IGR as a percentage of total revenue. The average percentage across all states was 17.8%, and states ranged between 1.2% (Ondo) and 62.2% (Lagos). The rest of the revenue for the average state came largely from FAAC allocations (64.9%) and VAT receipts (8.9%). The corresponding figures for the average local government was less impressive—IGR as a percentage of all revenue was 0.6%, with the balance coming largely from FAAC allocations (64.3%), state government allocations (1.9%) and VAT receipts (15%). Once again, we see a major dependence on oil, which is why I described the NNPC as the government’s private business in yesterday’s post.

So with the bulk of revenue coming from the oil companies, is it any wonder why “our leaders” hardly pay attention to us? It seems to me that we only “supplement” their revenue with the taxes we pay, and hence, are limited in our ability to influence them. But would we be able to influence them even if we paid higher taxes? Put in another way, would the fact that citizens pay higher taxes make the government more accountable to them? As was mentioned earlier, Lagos State generates most of its revenue from taxes, yet the jury is still out on the responsiveness of the state government to its citizens.

In light of these questions, tomorrow we will take a look at how the three tiers of government “spend” the money they make, and will explore how that is related to the dismal state of public services and infrastructure in the country.

The case of The Speaker's 10 billion (part 1)

Ten billion naira is a lot of money. At the current exchange rate, it comes to about GBP 40 million. Let's put that figure in perspective - according to the latest edition of the Sunday Times Rich List, Princes William and Harry share a combined wealth of GBP 28 million, of which twelve million came from a trust Princess Diana left them. So our dear speaker has "chopped" more wealth in one go, than it has taken two generations of British royalty to build. Only in Nigeria! (In case you are reading about this for the first time, see this page for some background info.)

Let's use a local perspective to drive home the point, shall we. Last year the Federal Government, through the Universal Basic Education Commission, allocated 2% of its consolidated revenue to support state and local governments in funding public education. There are about 25 million children supported by UBEC, nationwide, and the government provided 23 billion naira for their education. In one swoop, Mr. Speaker "chopped" half of what the FG provided for all those children for an entire year. Only in Nigeria!

The actions of our "leaders" never cease to amaze me, and the latest transgression has lead me to believe that public power in Nigeria corrupts publicly, yet leaves no sense of shame. How else can one explain the level of greed displayed - individually, and collectively - by so many "public servants"? How can one explain the recent actions of Mr. Speaker, who many hoped would be an agent of change?

Let's put ourselves in their shoes for a second - technically they are not stealing money, as it can be argued that the money is "just sitting there", and they simply help themselves to it. Big Daddy (the FG) allocates funds, and the recipients are hardly held accountable for how they spend the it (even Big Daddy is not held accountable!). It seems to me like Nigerians have encouraged such behaviour, given our implicit agreement with those who "govern" us. It is as if we have said, "we will let you enjoy the proceeds from your private business (NNPC), but leave us alone and don't try and tax us; do whatever you want with 'your' oil money." And they have, and will continue to do so, for as long as this "agreement" exists.

So while 10 billion naira can do a lot for Nigerians, and while Nigerians have every right to be angry with Mr. Speaker, the reality is the money is not being stolen from them, as it did not come from them in the first place, but originated from the oil companies. According to the CBN, oil revenue funds most of government expenditure at all three levels, which accounts for about 25% of GDP. Government expenditure in developed countries like the UK and France accounts for about 45% of total expenditure (see the Heritage Foundation's latest Index of Economic Freedom), but these governments don't get their money from oil - they get most of it taxes. The Nigerian government, when it does decide to finance public goods and services, does it from the crumbs left from oil revenue. This is part of the reason France and UK have electricity, good roads, and good public schools, and Nigeria does not (more on that in part 3).

In part 2 tomorrow, I will break down the oil revenue that accrues to the different tiers of government. Stay tuned...