Our electoral commission was in the news most of last week for all kinds of reasons. It was the week the name of the new electoral umpire was presented to the Council of States and subsequently to the nation. Regional positions that had lapsed were also filled with fresh names. It was also the week some election tribunals delivered landmark judgements in the South-South.

Felabrations, the activities marking the death of the music icon Fela Anikulapo Kuti were on till last weekend. Although he has been gone for almost two decades now, yet he lives on in the minds and hearts of music lovers the world over, many of whom never met him; many of whom were not even born when he was alive and performing. Such is the power of creativity; such is the value of enriching your environment with your worth that your stock continues to appreciate long after you are gone.

I was taught the importance of good hand writing pretty early. We even had lessons and eventually, a subject on it in my primary school days. We were told that however brilliant you were, your handwriting could be the deciding factor between a good pass and an ordinary pass as an untidy or illegible writing could easily irritate and put a teacher off.

Three weeks ago, I wrote a column titled ‘Rich country, poor people’ in which I lamented the disconnect between our resource rich country and its poor people. I also lamented the nonchalant wastefulness of our leaders who prefer to line their pockets instead of developing their country.

I own a green passport. In the days around Independence, this I was told, was a great privilege. A story was told to me—and I can vouch for its authenticity—by a man who was a student in England at the time of our Independence. He was to travel to a couple of European countries for some projects and a UK passport would have meant a visa free, and therefore a hassle free travel. But he declined.