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How To Trounce Tribalism.

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Equality is not the empirical claim that all groups of humans are interchangeable; it is the moral principle that individuals should not be judged or constrained by the average properties of their group. ~ Steven Pinker I’ve been conditioning my mind and body for the upcoming 21-day challenge. When I wake up, I just pick up my phone to read ODB and then leave it in the room while I work away in my attic. So I didn’t plan to write this piece. Actually, I didn’t intend to write at all this morning. My writing aim for the day was to do a paragraph or two during my break later in the afternoon. Nor did I plan to be distracted by Twitter this morning. But here we are, so let’s start with the tweets below. I could have simply labelled the first two authors but on second thought, I decided to put pen to paper and make some sense with my experience. When I moved to Lagos in 2006, I settled for Northern Foreshore, a newly built estate in the Chevron area of Lekki. My agent Charles eventually got a nice bungalow for me to view. I loved the place. It was built to standard with quality ceramics and durable fittings Charles scheduled a meeting with the landlord for some sort of formal introduction. When we got there, he rang the man to confirm he was coming. But something strange happened. His countenance changed after the call. I noticed this and asked if everything was okay. Charles being a jolly good and progressive fella replied that all was well but the man would be delayed. He suggested that we should drive to the waterfront so I could better appreciate the beauty of the estate. We did and when I asked him to call the landlord again he had no choice but to confess that the man wouldn’t be joining us. I was curious to know why. He told me the man was already on his way when he overheard me speaking in Igbo. He immediately told Charles that he would not rent his property to me. I was stunned! Of course, I’ve heard similar tales countless times but never imagined it could happen to me. My perplexity trumped my anger really because Yorubas are arguably the most liberal people I know. Some of the best professionals I’ve dealt with in the petroleum industry were Yorubas. Before that incident, I’ve only had what I’ll call minor, even negligible experiences with tribalism. As Uniport jambites, my friend and I had an altercation with the chief security officer which resulted in our detention for hours. The man’s reference to our tribe hardened my resolve to make him eat his words. When my dad got the report he called my aunt who was the deputy registrar and she immediately sent her secretary to get us released. As we left the security post I mockingly told the man that after all the gragra he took orders from an Igbo woman..with emphasis on woman. It stung and I loved it. In another incident, while driving down to the east from Lagos, a police officer accosted me at Sagamu. During a heated exchange, he retorted “who be Igbo man for this country?” Well, I had to show him. I rang my uncle who was an assistant commissioner of police and in an hour he sent his men to bundle them down his station while I continued my journey. Overseas I witnessed what may pass as racism in Kassel, Germany while I was on my honeymoon. An elderly cashier with a contemptuous countenance repeatedly slid the note I gave her through a counterfeit detector, pinched it, scratched it and almost x-rayed it before finally deciding it was fake. My protest that the note was from the same bundle I had been shopping with right from Frankfurt airport was to no avail as she insisted on calling the cops. The cops came and after what seemed like an eternity of screening, my note was certified as authentic while the counterfeit detector was deemed faulty. Furious and implacable, I dumped the clothes including a fine bargain Hilfiger denim shirt on her counter and demanded a refund. Not even an apology extracted by the cops could change my mind. She said it in German by the way so how was I to know if she didn’t rattle on? I still ask forgiveness for the invectives I rained on that poor old lady. Back to my Lagos story. The action of that ethnically challenged landlord amplified my determination to live in that estate. And I made sure I communicated that resolve to the man with a stinker. A few weeks later, I secured a better house for a cheaper rent. The crib was even closer to the waterfront and my landlady had planted a garden so exquisite that she could pass for a florist. She tastefully fitted the house too. And guess what? She was a Yoruba woman! My point is that discrimination will always happen so long as nomenclature is part of human nature. As Paulo Coelho said, the world is full of idiots distributed strategically so you can meet at least one per day. So it is how you deal with the situation that matters more. Some may not have the ability to punish such idiots, but I would say do what you can to shame them for your own good and the larger society. Or at least ensure that you are not deterred from achieving your objective. Yet, being widely travelled and having lived among different Nigerian tribes I know discrimination isn’t peculiar to a particular people. The idiots are also strategically distributed among different tribes, races and groups. But you can choose to focus on the positives because there are definitely more good people out there. The best boss I had in the petroleum industry was a Yoruba man. During one of the usual fuel crises in Nigeria, I was almost bankrupt when I

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Your Language Will Not Die If You Learn Another One.

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To have another language is to possess a second soul.~Charlemagne Some may not like what I’m about to write but I’m going to write it nevertheless because it is somewhat underrated and underappreciated. But above all, it is factual and objective. I know we are concerned about culture and heritage. How to preserve our traditions, languages, and all that. For Igbos like me, this concern possibly grew more worrisome when UNESCO predicted that our language will become extinct by 2025 if nothing is done to check its fast-declining use. So when a friend recently queried why my kids spoke little Igbo, our discussion raced back to that doomsday prediction. I started researching ways to teach my teenagers Igbo and realized that contrary to my fears our dear language has actually flourished in recent times. I discovered that in our usually enterprising manner, many Igbos rose to the challenge and elevated the language to disciplinary status in global institutes of repute like Oxford and Harvard. However, what gave me the greatest joy was that as 2025 approaches, numerous websites like igbotic.net where anyone can learn Igbo have emerged. My exuberant exclamation was that “Igbo language liveth!” Buoyed by this knowledge I rang my friend and reignited the topic hoping to convince him that UNESCO’s augury will come to naught after all. He still insisted that I should ‘force’ my kids to learn our mother tongue. That was when I asked a simple question that left him bewildered. “When and how often will this Igbo language skill help my children?” After a brief back and forth which was leading to more confusion, I had to explain my position. Most Igbo kids living outside the South East started out speaking Hausa, Yoruba, etc along with their peers. This makes it easier to live in those areas. I know a lady who fantasized about her kids speaking “asupri supri” because she longed to migrate to the western world. For years she pursued her dream of moving to Canada. Last year when she finally landed there I called and asked if her kids have started speaking “asupri supri”, her euphoric response was all you needed to feel her satisfaction. I also have a friend in the UK whose daughter spoke better Igbo than some children in Amawbia when she was just 3 years old. At 6 she could read and write in Igbo language. This was only possible because her mum considered it a duty and passionately taught her. There are many like her in the diaspora and together with concerted efforts by other stakeholders, will ensure that our language endures. You see, being a diasporan has many peculiarities and one is that your kids are often raised in an environment (school) where they are not only taught in a different language — English in most cases — but also have mates communicating in that language. In addition, whereas I studied Igbo as a 2nd language in primary school, Irish was the mandatory 2nd language here at that level. Now as a father, it was one of my intentions to teach my kids Igbo when I relocated and I did try. Perhaps I didn’t try enough but of course, you cannot force them as that may have unintended consequences in these climes. The truth is that the chances of my kids going back to live in Nigeria and particularly the South East is almost zero. This is even more so given the current trajectory of insecurity and economic hardship in the country. And as I embraced this reality it soon became clear that French, Spanish, German, Mandarin, and indeed programming languages like HTML, Python, and Java offer better opportunities for kids in our global and tech-driven world. Now consider this. For some time now I’ve been applying for research and academic positions across diverse EU institutions that will hopefully launch me into a doctorate study. For one, they are usually funded programmes. And in addition, they offer the opportunity to learn in a multicultural environment. Unfortunately, my chances have been reduced by one factor; lack of second language proficiency. It is often an eligibility requirement for most EU Institutions that you possess certain levels of certification in at least 2 official languages. That was how my French-speaking friend who lives in New York got a job at the Hague some years ago. So here I am stuck with only English and Igbo languages when a member of the cmonionline community of writers in Nigeria is a French teacher. This writer may actually be more qualified than I am for many positions in the EU. And guess what? There are more like her. Of course, with the internet era, the opportunities available to those who know computing languages like Java, and Python are limitless. But when we say that young Nigerians are ill-equipped to seek jobs abroad, it isn’t limited to tech skills because language skills equally give you a competitive edge. If you possess B-level competency in French, Spanish, Dutch, or any European language for that matter you can apply for many jobs over here that are open to non-EU citizens. Furthermore, some Universities in EU countries have free/affordable tuition but many Nigerian students don’t know this. Norwegian, Swedish & Dutch are among the easiest languages for English speakers to learn. You can learn any of these languages online and with a recent ruling by the EU Court of Justice that the European Commission cannot restrict the choice of a second language to English, German, or French in its recruitment process, your chances of landing a job are even greater if you are proficient in any other European language. I have not in any way suggested that you cannot or shouldn’t go the extra length to teach kids your indigenous language. It is a thing of pride to watch kids speak their native language. So if you can speak, read or/and write in Igbo that’s fine. If you can teach your wards thats even better. In addition, if

Blog, Essays, Monishots

Is The Housewife Alien To Igbo Culture?

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Never ever accept ‘Because You Are A Woman’ as a reason for doing or not doing anything ~ Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie The above tweet which forms part of a thread on inheritance highlights some of the deficiencies in our culture. We have laws that are being regularly updated but these things still happen because of pervasive ignorance. How I wish the federal government will declare an emergency on education and revive MAMSER to ramp up the dissemination of information via local means outside the dominant electronic channels. Anyway, the tweet reminded me of the related but disturbing experience I’m about to narrate. In 1992, I was admitted to Nnewi teaching hospital for pneumonia. With the normal practice in Nigerian public hospitals being that the patient usually buys the drugs, I noticed that my cousin who attended to me always bought twice the recommended dosage of drugs each day. When I asked why he explained that his classmate’s husband, an elderly man, possibly in his 70s or 80s also had pneumonia and struggled to buy drugs. I was discharged after 9 days and asked to return for a check-up at a later date. On my return for the checkup, my cousin who drove me inquired about his classmate’s husband and was informed that he passed away. There were no mobile phones then so we drove to go and condole with the bereaved woman. The widow in her 30s I guess, started sobbing as we entered the living room. She told us that when I left the hospital she could no longer get the needed drugs for her husband because his relatives refused to fund his treatment. They asked her to deposit the man’s property documents as collateral before they can provide a loan. The problem was that she was a housewife with 4 kids none of whom had reached post-primary level. She was married many years after her husband’s first wife died without having children. So she was caught between the proverbial devil and the deep blue sea. Surrender the property to raise funds that could possibly save her husband or hold on to it as a backup to fund the training of her kids supposing her husband passes on. She sought counsel from friends after efforts to raise funds failed. Apparently, she was advised to settle for the latter option as her husband died the week after I left the hospital. The fierce debate we had on our way back remains vivid. I opined that the woman should have taken the loan to save her husband and the man can sort things out with his relatives thereafter. While my cousin claimed he saw the man’s condition and that survival was not certain so the woman was right not to have gambled. I found this thought process quite bizarre even in my sympathy for a young widow faced with the challenge of raising 4 children. Women, especially wives must seek economic empowerment and men must encourage this in our society. I have peers who would not let their wives work or engage in any form of enterprise. What the hell is that? In this age and time? Sometimes I wish I can just teleport these men to the Western world where the system is such that the financial burden of households is better managed with combined income. Yet it would seem that for Africans, particularly Igbos, the economic subjugation of women was a colonial import. I will even argue that as patriarchal as the pre-colonial Igbo society may have been, the housewife is alien to our culture and was magnified by the colonialists. This position is supported by the fact that feminism is equally a foreign concept as well as the prominence attached to economic empowerment in our marriage customs. Of course, our ancestors expected their wives to be submissive, do domestic work, and bear children. But it is also a fact that farmland and livestock are usually made available for a prospective bride to manage before the union is consummated. Unlike what we have now with urbanization meaning that a bride who is a banker obviously won’t need a chicken pen to earn a living, that provision constituted the base of economic freedom for the Igbo wife back then. My late grandmother was a serial entrepreneur who engaged in different economic endeavours. Before the Biafran war, she used to trek to Oye Agu Abagana or Afor Igwe Umudioka with her colleagues on the respective market days to trade. I’m talking about a distance of 15–20 km. She equally cultivated innumerable farmlands and had a rich barn. Back then Akpu (cassava) was the more popular staple and she always had them fermenting in 2 big drums because she never ate Garri. She always had goats and chicken such that ije gbota nni eghu (getting feed for the goats) was a daily chore I enjoyed with the numerous houseboys that passed through her tutelage. Anu mkpo and azu kojim (dry meat and fish) never lacked in her ngiga as onugbu soup was her favourite and you dare not cook it without protein. The wealth from her enterprise earned her the alias Ogodu nwelu afha or Oke ogodu. This literally translates to a wrapper with a name or a great wrapper because she preferred Ntorika George, Hollandis Wax, or Lace to the average textile wrapper. Stacked in metal chests popularly called Oriental, I remember that for many years after her demise, we still picked wrappers from there for condolence visits. She was an umbrella for widows and less privileged women that usually gather each morning to process either egusi, ojawara or abacha mmili. They will then go down to Eke Amawbia for igba mgbele (trading) and return in the evening for accounting duties. As a kid, I was inspired by her industry and enterprise. For me, she epitomized the Igbo woman of her time. Back to the first part of my story. I couldn’t process my cousin’s line of argument because I

Monishot
Blog, Monishots, Opinion Articles

How To Tackle Police Brutality.

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If someone puts their hands on you make sure they never put their hands on anybody else again. ~ Malcom X Once again we are seeing incidents of police brutality. I earlier wrote that it is not as if these shameful acts of our police officers abated after the #EndSARS protest. No, it just happens that they now try to avoid the cameras but unfortunately for them, Nigerians are bolder, so they record and expose the crimes on social media. However, it is worrisome that many seem to have given up on getting justice. It is not unusual to see comments like “nothing go happen”, and “they will be released the next day” when the police authority reports that perpetrators have been arrested. Of course, it’s easy to understand these feelings in a country where those tasked with protecting citizens are oftentimes the ones harming and in extreme cases taking the lives of citizens. But sometimes it is impatience and ignorance rather than despair that let off offenders in uniform. But we cannot relent. We must continue building Nigeria to a much saner clime. I will scroll back to 2003 and narrate my experience with police brutality to show that our police officers will actually do their job if we demand accountability. I was driving to Enugu with 3 friends when we were stopped at Oji River. After searching my car the police sergeant demanded the vehicle documents which I willingly handed over to him. He then started asking silly irrelevant questions and I initially answered till he asked where I made the money to buy a BMW. For one, Amawbia to Enugu is my regular route and I barely had issues with policemen over the years. Secondly, as a businessman who travels frequently on Nigerian roads, handling the police is a prerequisite skill. And finally, I am a friend of the police by virtue of proximity as my filling station is opposite the State CID and I actually supply the state command petroleum products. So I was more angry than perplexed and retorted, “You should have asked who I am instead”. To which he instantly barked, “Oh you want to impress your friends eh kwa. You want to show them that you can handle the police. Oya come and tell me who you are”. He immediately grabbed my jeans by the waist and started dragging me away. It all escalated so fast that I was halfway to the parked pickup van before I recovered from the shock and raised my voice in protest. “What have I done?” was replied with slaps until he got to the van and asked me to jump in. I refused and continued querying him about my offence. My friend who also recovered from the shocking incident rushed across the road to his superior asking him to intervene. I felt relieved when the inspector, an elderly man shouted at him. “Hey, Samuel hold it there!” The inspector crossed over and asked him what happened. He said I insulted him and refused to obey a lawful order. To my utter dismay without hearing from me the inspector ordered me to jump into the van! Of course, I refused again. An action which I will regret for the rest of my life. They numbered about four and all of them descended on me. I was beaten to a pulp with fists and batons and by the time I was eventually bundled into the van my left shoulder was dislocated. All the pleas from my friends fell on deaf ears. I was asked to surrender my car keys and my friend was ordered to drive my car to Enugu with them. In that excruciating pain, I was left behind the van as they drove all the way to Enugu. For context, a dislocation is classified as one of the most painful injuries. Some police officers can be heartless! We got to their station and I was ordered to sit on the floor. The DPO came out, heard their story and then invited my friend into his office to hear from him. I was later called in and when he heard about my shoulder the first thing he did was to feel the joint. It was evident that this was an experienced officer. He immediately shouted at the inspector. “So you injured this man and instead of taking him to the hospital you brought him here?” The inspector tried to say that I was acting but he was shouted down and instructed to take me to the hospital immediately. I was driven back to the Orthopaedic hospital where my shoulder was fixed. We went back to the station but the DPO had left and we were told to return tomorrow. The next day I came with the full paraphernalia of a successful businessman. I had my lawyer, a colleague in the oil industry and my mentor who incidentally was the DPO’s friend. The idea was to intimidate the entire station and that was exactly what we did. The officers were summoned and pulled off duty. The DPO asked them to plead with me not to submit a petition to the commissioner. For the first time in my life, I witnessed and relished the humiliation of offending police officers as they prostrated and begged. I refused and told the DPO that we will submit the petition. The following week an officer friend, the inspector’s daughter and her husband sauntered into my office clutching a bottle of wine. She introduced herself as a teacher, her husband works at UNN. They pleaded for me to forgive and withdraw my petition. She went on to explain that they have been begging their dad to retire since his 5 children could take care of him but he refused because he wanted to be promoted to ASP before his retirement. My friend explained the reason behind this; apparently, there is a huge salary/pension margin between the two ranks. Well, I called my lawyer and

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What Do You do for a living?

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We are, you might say, “brainwashed” into thinking that money is the source of happiness while what we really need to know is that inner peace is something that comes from within. ~Dalai Lama

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How A Father Should Raise His Son.

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There are no cast-iron rules for raising a child and what works for you may fail another. However, every rational person will agree that beating a child repeatedly is abusive and detrimental to his well being. Having a child is a right but raising one is a responsibility and the best training a father can give a son is to live by example.

Blog, Monishots

The Pawn And The Queen.

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We’re all looking for a bit of recognition, even if it’s the unconscious and hypocritical need for attention over the fact that we’re not publically seeking out attention.~Abby Rosmarin Nigerian-born Uju Anya, an associate Professor at Carnegie Mellon Pittsburg got all the attention she sought after her controversial tweet about the late Queen Elizabeth II went viral. The tweet was so widely discussed that it even elicited a response from the usually taciturn Amazon boss Jeff Bezos. Uju Anya is no stranger to ruckus though. She is one of those who never heard the phrase “some things are better left unsaid”. Actually, given some of her cheeky replies to shots aimed at her, I believe that she stokes controversy and revels in social media dopamine. Some eulogise her as a heroic speaker of truth who has consistently campaigned against the ills of colonialism, racism and sexual discrimination. While others have adjudged her a bitter lady and dumped her in the basket of frustrated ‘Twitter windbags’ parading as feminists. Let me be clear before I proceed. Madam Uju’s tweet though factual was vile, cruel and disturbing. Beyond all that, someone posited that wishing another person a painful death only goes to show that given the opportunity, she would do worse than the colonial masters. Well, that is plausible, but then some people talk a lot more than they can do and she may belong to that group. I am not a fan of the British monarchy or any monarchy for that matter but I do not share Uju’s sentiments and here is why. I am a post-civil war child like her. As a matter of fact, those of us born immediately after the war felt the impact more than Uju who was born in the late 70s. As a progressive, I seek to move on. I was taught to respect the dead and mourn with the bereaved. I would rather remain silent on the death of one whom I loathe or at the most express my disdain privately among those I can relate to and reason with. However, I am neither the self-confessed lesbian who only realised her sexuality after 2 kids with her ex-husband nor the child abandoned by an irresponsible dad — as she claims — who spent his time frolicking with numerous side chicks. It is in this context that we should seek to understand Uju Anya’s personae. Is she what Malcolm Gladwell described as the mismatched in his book Talking To Strangers? But the world is in a hurry. Few people have the patience to read a 280-letter tweet let alone research Uju’s momentous background. It brings me to the point where I begin to wonder why she chose the western world in the first place. Why not stay back and contribute more to developing Africa? I mean for how long will Africans keep passing the buck? Sixty-two long years after independence Nigeria remains a sprawling realm of poverty, insecurity and underdevelopment. Even in the developed world where the system works we still can’t get our acts together. Try getting a new passport from any embassy abroad and give us feedback. Are the Europeans still running Abia state? Ok if you say the Europeans ‘underdeveloped’ Africa what did Africans achieve before the colonisers? Tucker Carlson and Rev Manning have interesting perspectives that will have you wondering if the colonialists really underdeveloped Africa despite all the atrocities they committed. Be that as it may, our controversial professor is entitled to her opinion just like everyone no matter how far-fetched or stupid. But opinions have consequences, especially in her world and for her status. It could explain why she has been quiet in the past few days following her tweet. I guess she consulted her attorney to mull possibilities after the statement from her institution. Twitter validation and followers do not bring credit alerts so I expect her to double down going forward. She wouldn’t want to be cancelled by much of western academia where she thrives. But who knows, she could be a pawn of the liberals who may have assured her of accommodation as some media reports have insinuated. After all as bad as her tweet was, Twitter and indeed much of the social media overlooked worse statements directed at Putin. In fact, Facebook adjusted the company rules to allow death wishes on the Russian leader and his comrades for invading Ukraine. It is this western hypocrisy that nauseates a lot of us. My friends often accuse me of being a fan of Putin, Xi and Trump. But the truth is that I am only a fan of the first two so long as they check western imperialism and of Trump as long as he challenges the US establishment. Let’s just say that I’m a fan of those who offer a kind of balance. And that is what we need in today’s world. But as our soro soke generation would say..this life no balance. The Queen is gone and her remains will soon be laid to rest. Britain already has a new King, Charles III. It would appear that the British are more willing to move on faster than Uju Anya. So rather than insulting the dead and bemoaning past years of colonisation, I think Africans need to dissipate more energy on productive discourse because life has to go on..innit?

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Varsity Poor Funding And The Need For Investment In E-Learning.

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  I had been thinking about writing something on e-Learning and how it could shape the future of education in Nigeria but it is hard to discuss topics other than politics during the campaign season. However, when I came across the following tweet a few days ago I was motivated to do a little research and write this short piece: @fimiletoks: University education is a privilege even in developed parts of the world. Basic education is a fundamental human right. Right to free and compulsory primary education. Right to available and accessible secondary education (including technical and vocational education and training), made progressively free. ASUU should realise that in the scheme of play, they are on the lowest rung of the ladder. The least of our worries. In tweeting his musings on the ASUU/Fed Govt imbroglio that has become a permanent fixture in our tertiary education calendar the author also echoed the thoughts of many including yours truly. He went ahead to suggest that the federal government should quit subsidizing tertiary education which is supposed to be a privilege and focus more on providing basic and secondary education which should be a fundamental human right for every citizen. Historically, governments have played a dominant role in funding tertiary education, especially in Africa where the need to bridge the gap created by departing expatriate civil servants at the wake of independence from colonial masters necessitated governments input. The exigency to train a group of professionals was well appreciated thus in the early 1970s the federal government abolished school fees in all the six federal universities and took up the task of funding them. With the subsequent discovery of oil and the attendant boom witnessed by the Nigerian economy, all the federal universities in the country were fully and adequately funded precipitating an increase in the demand for higher education, which in turn led to the establishment of additional tertiary institutions. Consequently, the government’s allocation to universities has continued to increase. This trend has continued to date. As a matter of fact, a study titled “Higher Education Funding in Nigeria — Issues, Trends and Opportunities” presented at the 2016 International Business Information Management Association Conference in Milan, Italy revealed that the appropriation to federal universities rose from N10 billion in 1999 to over N223 billion in 2013. The average allocation per university equally increased from N500 million to over N5 billion in the same period. However, a combination of factors such as inflation and the geometric increase in student population has ensured that these increments amount to little. Between 1990 and 1997, the real value of government allocation for university education declined by 27 per cent even as enrollment grew by 77 per cent. In other words, there’s been a lot of movement without commensurate motion or better still backward motion. What’s more, the pressure and competition for limited public resources from other sectors of the economy; including sub-sectors of education have greatly hindered the ability of successive governments to fulfil its funding obligation to these universities. These and other reasons have been responsible for the incessant ASUU strikes embarked on by lecturers in a bid to force the government to meet its commitments. If we are to go with the Nigeria Universities Commission which put the cost of training an undergraduate to full accreditation at over N1 million per annum, then with about two million enrolled nationwide, funding university education will cost N2 trillion annually. This figure is more than double the total budgetary allocation for the health and education ministries combined. And with the Babalakin led negotiation team standing its ground in the current impasse it has become imperative for us to explore other ways of funding higher education especially now that the demand has moved beyond quantitative to qualitative education. The government is therefore left with no other option than to partner with the private sector if Nigeria is to avoid a total collapse of our already haemorrhaging tertiary institutions. This much Vice President Osinbajo alluded to in a recent workshop when he stated that “while government funding is important and critical, it is not the only source of funding for education — the second source of funding is from non-governmental sources — these include contributions from sources such as school charges, private donations, corporate sponsors, alumni associations, charitable and faith-based associations and among others.’’  Now while some will criticise the idea of the federal government pulling the plug on tertiary education subsidy as being a capitalist proposition, others will question the rationality of implementing such in Nigeria where an average citizen lives on less than $2 a day. However, the more important posers beg; how has the socialist approach improved the standard of education in our tertiary institutions? How has it improved the quality of graduates churned out annually by our universities? Your guess is as good as mine here. The world has been reshaped by the internet and e-Learning is already integrated into education in developed nations. Nigeria cannot continue grappling with the paradox of spiralling cost and the declining standard of education at a time when China is teaching 5-year old pupils coding. It is time for the government and ASUU to agree on a gradual withdrawal of subsidy from our universities. This will free up funds that will be invested in the provision of basic, vocational and technical education. Partnering with the private sector to invest massively in e-learning will help to achieve this. The benefits are too numerous for the scope of this piece but it will be proper to list a few. E-Learning makes higher education more accessible to unique populations such as parents with children, service personnel, students with full-time jobs and those with disabilities. It is also cost saving as it eliminates the often expensive logistics of having the lecturer and students in the same location. I just finished a six-week creative writing course with all the study materials and coursework delivered online. And gone are the days when it

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