ALTHOUGH right on the front page of The Punch of March 14, 2012, the image was not that visible. It was of a man perched dangerously on the mast of a telecoms company in the premises of the Federal High Court, Shehu Shagari Way, in Abuja.

IN June 2011, I started an exercise on jotting down in my diary the number of deaths as reported by the newspapers everyday. On 22 June 2011, a newspaper reported the following: Two soldiers, 18 others killed in Tiv/ Fulani clash in Beme; an undergraduate murdered by cultists in Bauchi; an ASP killed and five civilians injured in Kano; man butchers neighbour over political argument in Kaduna; bodies of two little siblings found buried under the rug in Uyo.

THE Vanguard Comment of March 14, 2012 titled “Challenges of Regionalisation” provides an interesting approach to the history of the Regionalist Federalism of the independence movement of the 1950s.

Without quoting instances in our country’s chequered football history, many believed that if what happened to Fabrice Muamba in White Hart Lane during an English Premiership match between Tottenham Hotspurs and Bolton Wanderers was to be in Nigeria, then the young man would have died.

HOW seriously do we take our history as a nation or even as members of its constituent parts? How important is our history to us? I know for one that America does not joke with her history.

“Despite her potential for prosperity, Nigeria has been listed as one of the five countries where half of the world’s malnourished live.”

The advocacy for a deregulated foreign exchange market to facilitate economic growth and social welfare enhancement commenced over ten years ago. In spite of the validity and strength of the prescription, those government agencies responsible for monetary and fiscal policies have buried their heads deep in the sand, so that they cannot hear or indeed, see the progressive rationale of the argument.

If there is any scintilla of doubt that members of Nigeria’s ruling and business elite, particularly those entrusted with running the political and economic institutions of the country, are hopelessly lost in the mud of corruption I believe that the current bribery scandal which implicated the House of Representatives’ committee on capital markets has blown it to smithereens.

Some days after this year’s Valentine’s day, I asked some young persons in this trendy shop in my neighbourhood how the day had been for them. “Did you tell daddy and mummy, and other members of your family how much you love and appreciate them in your lives? Did you do something special for them, or perhaps give them cards expressing your affection for them?” I asked.

The Lord sent me on an errand. I said: “I go, Sir,” but did not go. He asked me to go out of town to talk to an old man about Christ. I can never say “no” to the Lord, but I dragged and dragged my feet about it. I debated indefinitely what to tell him. I had known the man all my life and felt it would be presumptuous of me to talk to him. I dilly-dallied until I was shocked to hear he was seriously ill and in hospital. Then I became afraid. What if he died?