By Donu Kogbara

ESTHER SALAMI,  a beautician, came to my house last Sunday to do a pedicure for a member of my family. When she had finished, I handed her a small wad of folded naira bills and she dropped it into her handbag without counting it.

I thought I had given her the amount that I normally pay her for pedicures, but she called me a few hours later to say a) that when she finally got around to counting the cash, she discovered that I’d over-paid her by N1000 and

b) that she wanted to know whether I would like her to immediately return the N1000…or whether it would be OK for her to keep it until she next visited me.

I couldn’t believe my ears!

Esther is a young married woman. She already has three children. And there will soon be  four little mouths to feed because she is pregnant. She works extremely hard and earns a very modest income. She doesn’t have a car so she travels around Abuja by taxis, taking care of her clients. And I regarded her as an ordinary Nigerian until she proved, this week, that she is, in fact, remarkable.

I once promptly returned N30 million that was transferred to my bank account in error by a government agency that had hired me as a consultant. On the one hand, this was an act of self-preservation rather than virtue because – let’s face it – the government guys would definitely have spotted such a huge error, sooner or later. And it’s no big deal to return money that doesn’t belong to you when you  are sure that the owners will arrest and disgrace you if you try to be smart!!!

Esther, on the other hand, would not have been risking her reputation or liberty if she had remained silent. She knows me well enough to know that I would never have realised that I had accidentally over-paid her to the tune of N1000.

But she still felt morally obliged to alert me to my mistake and offer me a refund. And I am overwhelmed by her admirable strength of character. She is a fantastic role model for her offsprings and a shining example to us all.

Even though I am essentially straightforward, I can assure you that I am not as honest as Esther because if I’d been in her shoes, I wouldn’t have bothered to report a minor overpayment from someone who is so very obviously much richer than I am. I’d have remembered the relatively privileged lifestyle that I witness whenever I visit “Madame Donu”; and I’d have unrepentantly kept the N1000.

I will not only “dash” her the N1000 but throw in a bonus that will enable her to do something nice for herself because she is the kind of person we need more of in a country where ethical lapses are commonplace, even in billionaire circles.
May God bless her.

By the way Mr. P!

DEAR Mr.  President, I know you are too busy to be hassled about my worries. But I thought I should remind you
a)that you are generating a lot of ill-feeling within the South-South region by aggressively prioritising Western Ijaws (Bayelsa/Delta) and

b) that Eastern Ijaws, Ibibios, Isekiris, Ogonis, Efiks, Ikas, Binis, etc, etc, etc, would also like to be treated as if they matter to you!

A reappointed disappointment!

GODSDAY  ORUBEBE, the recently reappointed Niger Delta Minister, has, on the few occasions when I have bumped into him, struck me as a genuinely genial fellow who wishes nobody harm and certainly isn’t short of brain cells. But I’m not happy about the lacklustre manner in which he  has handled his portfolio.

The creation of the Niger Delta Ministry was a political response to the longstanding bitterness of the neglected natives of oil-producing areas.

We were in Crisis mode. Our youths were running amok and had become laws unto themselves…dangerous militants who defied all forms of authority because they had no jobs or faith in their futures…and did not see why they should listen to elders who couldn’t save them or a System that had betrayed them.

Our communities had been subjected to  environmental outrages like constant gas-flaring. Our waterways had been totally messed up by toxic oil spills that destroyed the fish we had traditionally depended upon for survival. We had been exploited and marginalised for decades. And we wanted justice.

Goodluck Jonathan’s near-miraculous elevation to the Presidency was thrilling, but not enough to satisfy all of our yearnings. One tree does not make a forest.

The Niger Delta Ministry is supposed to at least partly solve the chronic socio-economic problems of the zone from which both Jonathan and Orubebe hail.

But even though Orubebe has been sitting on this hot seat for quite a while, I’m not seeing the dynamic developments that I expected from him. And, much to my amazement and annoyance, Jonathan does not appear to be particularly concerned about Orubebe’s blatant failure to initiate significant changes.

Sure, most of the militants have now been sweet-talked into laying down their arms. But at what price? The biggest “boys” who once terrorised the creeks are now fat cats who cosily cruise around various urban centres in top-of-the-range jeeps that were funded by the substantial government patronage they enjoy.

But for how long can we sustain a status quo that boils down to a possibly superficial and temporary peace that is based on crude bribery? Should we not, instead, be establishing a progressive and productive policy-and-implementation agenda that will deliver widespread prosperity and REAL long-term stability?

What are Orubebe and Jonathan planning to do about the still-suffering brothers and sisters these militants left behind in their impoverished riverine villages? I eagerly await some acceptable answers to these burning questions.