By Muyiwa Adetiba
Have you ever arrived at a party that has just finished? I have and it is not a pretty sight. This was many years ago in Edo State at a small town on the outskirts of Benin City. All the elements conspired against me on that day; bad roads, bad traffic, nonchalant traffic officials. On top of all that, I didn’t know my way and missed important turnings a couple of times. The sun was set by the time I got there; so was the party. The canopies were still there but the chandeliers and the flowers that must have been used to adorn them were gone.

The tables and chairs were shorn of their white and gold covering and were now bare, ugly, rusted wrought iron pieces. The music was long gone and the music makers were either packing, cleaning their instruments or slaking their thirst.

The lawn which must have been immaculate was now littered with tissue paper, empty bottles, bones and samples of different kinds of food. But the ugliest sight were the dirty plates. Some were in big bowls of oily, dirty water; some still contained smelly left overs; all were covered with buzzing flies. Everywhere was empty; well almost because the cleaners and packers were still there; so were the scavengers—birds, lizards, cockroaches and ants.

It was not, as I said, a pretty sight.

As bad as this is, it is even worse when you overstay at a party because you get to see both the beautiful and the ugly. You get to see the work of art or even genius as decorators turn a simple hall into a beautiful flower. You get to see gaily dressed hosts and their guests and marvel at the extravagant dress sense of Nigerians.

At its peak, you get to see a hall full of life, rich food and assorted drinks. Then it begins to empty and if you don’t take your exit soon enough, you get to see the gradual stripping of the hall. The table decorations are the first to go. Then the cutlery and side plates. Soon, surrounding tables are being stripped and half empty bottles and glasses are being snatched before your eyes. Again this has happened to me once. I made the mistake of attending a function with someone who liked to be fashionably late to events.

Only there is a thin line between being fashionably late and being unfashionably tardy. This time we got there when the bulk of the guests was exiting. The hostess seemed glad to see us and took us to a table that had recently been cleared but still had the party covering. Not too long after, assorted food and drinks landed on the table. The hostess sat with us—after all we were about the last of her guests—and two or three ushers hovered around us.

It seemed we had brought life back to a dying party. But only for a while. The clearing of other tables continued apace. Soon, the music stopped; soon the fidgeting started. But my friend ignored all the signs, including a few from me and continued to hold court. Then the hostess who must have had a long day, disappeared. The ushers too disappeared and the band was dismantling. We had clearly overstayed and it was time to go home.

I remember these two incidents distinctly because they were not pleasant. But they taught a hard lesson that an after party scene is not very pretty and one must know when to make a dignified exit. Parties are never forever. Even the super ones must end. It is why I empathise with Nigeria and can tell my fellow compatriots that I know the feeling of a party that is over. Yes, the oil party is over. For years, we had enjoyed the cheap food and drinks. We had revelled in the accolade. We had used oil as a weapon against some difficult Western countries which didn’t want to see things our way. We had bought things we didn’t really need at prices only drunken fools would pay. We had lavished, we had squandered.

We had bullied, we had patronised. We had played Big Brother to smaller African countries who paid us back with bad coins. In all we had lived it up and failed to provide for the rainy day. Now the party is over bar the music.

The world economy that was entering into a recession gave us a hint a decade ago but we ignored it. Then the US our largest consumer, gave us a big hint some six years ago when it said it would no longer need our oil but we ignored it. After all there was China. Other African countries were coming up with large deposits of oil but we ignored its import. Now the chicken has come home to roost.

Even now, we are still in denial. Many people believe this is a temporary hiccup. It had happened before and good old resilient oil bounced back. Fellow Nigerians, the party is over. Oil is not likely to reach the hundred dollar mark in a long, long while.

We therefore need to increase our internal productivity. But that is easier said than done because we need fiscal discipline and committed leadership to do that. We also need to stop paying lip service to corruption, security and infrastructural challenges.

Fortunately, we are near a momentous election when we can decide which of the two parties is better able to deal with our post oil economy. Which will have the liver to cut down the excesses in Aso Rock. Which will have the guts to reduce our ten presidential planes to two and our stupendous entertainment bills to zero. Which can look the National Assembly in the face and slash its take home pay to a quarter of what it presently is. Which can look at the retinue of Ministers and Special Advisers and do a drastic trim.

Now party position aside, who among the three or so major contenders for the number one post can lead by spartan example in cutting the fat and the excesses of governance. Who among them can deal decisively with the massive oil theft in the Niger Delta area. I have a fairly good idea who but I am not telling. For now, your guess is as good as mine.