Book of the Month: Behold the Dreamers By Mbolo Imbue

Art is so subjective. Ha. Sometime in the past few weeks or so while I was reading the book of this month, I shared a picture of the cover on Instagram Stories, saying it was a fantastically written book, and someone responded that they found it so tedious. Lmao. She said it felt like the author was rambling unnecessarily. I laughed so hard when I saw that. Because how can a book that I enjoyed so much both for its story and style be so irritating to someone else? And the beautiful part about art, about storytelling in particular, is both of us can be right; it's just about how we perceived it.

Why We Should Amplify the Historical #EndSARS Movement to Stop Police Brutality and Authoritarianism in Nigeria

When I am enraged, I write. So here goes. I explained here that there was an unprecedented movement going on in Nigeria. It started as an organized and collective anger against police brutality. See, the Special Anti-Robbery Squad, a unit of the police force was established years ago to deal with crimes related to robbery, kidnapping, car theft etc. Over the years, however, this unit had devolved into something of a rogue unit; a squad of thugs in uniform who began to perpetuate the very crimes they were meant to stop. They harassed innocent young men and women, they robbed, they raped, and worst of all they literally killed citizens. Now, the evidence reveals to us that the success of any policing unit whether in an ostensibly developed nation like America or a developing one like Nigeria is trust between citizens and the police. Where there is no trust, there is no legitimacy for the police. But how can citizens trust you if you arrest them for driving nice cars or using iPhones? 

So of course, people became frustrated. Year after year, people would just randomly disappear after encounter with the police. There were reports of extrajudicial killings, excessive blackmail, sexual assault and rape, innocent citizens getting framed by these thugs who sometimes went around without their uniforms. The long record of abuse continued to pile up and gradually, people started to complain. First, on social media a few years ago with the hashtag #ENDARS. But as with most important social movements, there was a tipping point. That tipping point—one  unlawful arrest and seizure and another point blank murder—occurred  this month when mass demonstrations began across major cities in Nigeria. This movement sparked something I had never seen in Nigeria. It was also when we realized that what we thought we knew about SARS barely scratched the surface of the monstrosity. BARELY. People shared stories, videos of heinous and wicked crimes committed by SARS; the impunity with which they killed Nigerians. 

I especially want to highlight Chijioke's story. Chijioke Iloanya was 20 when SARS officers arrested him at a child dedication ceremony in Anambra State. He literally committed no crime at all and yet instead of releasing him, these ghouls told his family to bring some money for his release. Like any concerned and desperate parent, his parents sold their property to obtain the funds. But upon returning, he was no longer in the SARS office. He has not been found since. Is he dead? Is he alive? His family don't know. And like Yoruba people say, it is better to lose one child's to death than to be held in the despair and hope of the purgatory that is "missing". At some point, news got to Chijioke's father about a river where the SARS officers of that branch often dump the bodies of their victims. In what no human being should ever go through, this man went through a pile of dead bodies, turning them one after the other, looking for his son. This is the kind of overwhelming anguish so-called officers of the law inflict upon the very citizens they swore to protect. Anybody that puts another human through this is an animal that should not live among the rest of us human beings. Such a person deserves to rot in prison for the rest of their miserable lives. 

So you will understand why Nigerians took the streets. And what a beauty to behold. Organized, unified, determined, energized, and yes angry, the protesters demanded an end to injustice and police brutality. The movement cut across class, gender, political ideology and was forceful in refusing to retreat.  In the weeks during which this protest was going on, the governance and collective good shared by organizers superseded anything the Nigerian government could have ever done for its citizens in all 60 years of its independence. The feminist group, Feminist  Coalition raised more than N140 million from contributions of Nigerians home and abroad to provide food, security, mental health, and legal aid to protesters and even relief for victims of police brutality and families of the deceased.  The utmost transparency with which they handled every expense is one for the history books. At some point, the Nigerian government tried to disrupt their fundraising. They found other creative ways to continue to raise funds, even getting the attention of Twitter's CEO Jack Dorsey. People remained undeterred by these subtle efforts to disrupt the movement. Young people came out with a drive and passion you rarely see much less in the middle of a global pandemic that has catapulted ennui into almost everyone. Social media became a valuable engine to spread people's voices. And so it did. The world heard us. Soon, international celebrities amplified voices, #ENDSARS started to trend globally. It was a joy to behold.  

The truth is SARS is a symptom of a much worse cancer—inept leadership, incompetent leaders, and failed governance. And I suspect these same leaders knew that; they anticipated what was brewing. It really is the most basic things. Isn't it always with African leaders? It's terrible healthcare, education,  roads. It's skyrocketed unemployment rates, abysmal systems. It's the basic things intrinsic to a functioning society. Yet, they are inexistent in the Nigerian society. President Buhari has failed in more ways that words can describe. To live in that country is to play Russian roulette with your life. Nothing works: not justice, not governance, not civil service. But the leaders continue to amass grotesque wealth; they continue to go abroad for their own medical treatments while Nigerians die from easily managed diseases; their own kids get the finest education from prestigious universities abroad while  Nigerian kids continue to wallow in dilapidated buildings, poorly staffed schools, and unappreciated teachers. 

You tell me.

Why wouldn't Nigerians protest? It was only a matter of time. Instead of listening, the government used all types of tactics to repress protesters' voices. One operation allegedly transported mercenaries and disbanded thugs to break up the protests, incite violence, set protesters' cars on fire, and intimidate protesters.  Police killed some protesters, detained so many, but people continued and refused to be stopped. After all, the hallmark of any democracy should be the freedom to dissent, to protest, to express your disappointment with your elected leaders whose job it is to SERVE YOU. 

But then, suddenly, in a manner only a man who was once a dictator could so muster, things changed. 

On October 20, 2020, a curfew was announced that was supposed to begin at 4pm, which made no sense because how did they expect people to even get home? But before anyone could say Jack Robinson, men in military uniforms started firing at UNARMED peaceful protesters. There are videos of this online; of solders shooting into a crowd of people. Allegedly, government officials turned off security cameras and lights at the Lekki Toll Gates just before the massacre began. Think what you will about that. All I know is that it was a bloodbath.  They fired weapons into a crowd of protesters peacefully singing [the national anthem], sitting, kneeling. The particular details of the amount of victims (many of whom are either dead or receiving treatments in hospitals across Lagos) is still just as blurry as the video of the event. No one has been held accountable for the murder of innocent citizens. No one.

The handwriting became clearer that night at Lekki: this was state repression. The brazenness is appalling. What began as a peaceful protest devolved into the state murdering and terrorizing its own citizens. What Buhari and co wanted to do was to instill fear in the hearts of people. So that the next time we think of holding them accountable, we would think twice. Right now, the government keeps insisting all of this happened because protesters were violent. But it makes no sense that  people so organized, so committed to change would then compromise everything by suddenly becoming violent. People dared to ask for human rights and were killed for it. My first instinct was to say I couldn't believe it. But I could and I still can. Buhari was a dictator and what we are learning is that he will always be one. Because what kind of a democracy do you kill people for protesting? Sometimes, I wonder and I think, why were people so willing to vote  for a dictator twice? Why?

For days after this state-sanctioned murder, the president (nay, head of state), a former dictator, Muhammadu Buhari was conspicuously quiet. He refused to address the nation. For days (though it felt like years given the circumstance) we waited. And like Nero who fiddled while Rome burned, Buhari set fire to Nigeria and then fiddled. When I say the collective trauma of the past few days have been heavy, I might be understating it. I had never seen as much dead bodies, bloodbath, and massacre as I saw through videos and photos these past few days. I saw blood gushing from people's necks and chest cavities. I saw a mother hold the lifeless body of her son in her hands while she wept in abject despair.  As I write this, the wail-like sound emanating from her mouth continues to ring in my ears. But the head of state was quiet. And when he finally spoke, it was to threaten peaceful protesters even more, warning and giving the indication that he was ready to continue killing protesters if need be. The president of Nigeria did not offer  a single word of condolence to the families of the victims. He has doubled down, insisting that enough was enough and it was time to stop...protesting.

So yes, in a sense, it was time to retreat. But it was no surrender. What he and his cabals have done is to further embolden young Nigerians in our quest for a better nation and for better governance. People now realize the need to strategize and plan NOW for the 2023 elections. Because we can NOT go back to status quo.  So what can we do?  The past few weeks have taught us that we can do the work. We can use our education, skills, tools at our disposal towards a better society. And gosh, it has taught us that there are so many problem solvers among us. We can mobilize, educate and engage, we can continue to remind people, we can strategize and mobilize the grassroots across Nigeria. But it's not just about the presidency. It is local offices, local governments, state legislature, national legislature, the judiciary. We know now that we are not powerless. If anything, what the Feminist Coalition has taught us is that as a unit, we are powerful and can organize. So we need time, we need to be resolute, and we must never ever settle for anything other than a better Nigeria. A Nigeria that works. As I always say, this is a fight EVERYBODY must participate in. You can't leave it for a select few. You can't abandon it. you have to find a way to serve. You must speak up and engage and do better in whatever corner of the world YOU are in. It starts with all of us.

As for those of you that continue to deny the truth, that continue to remain loyal to an administration that has shown time and time again it has no concern for the people, that continue to obfuscate, that continue to deny the deaths of protesters despite glaring evidence of the murder and intimidation, you are stupid and you have no one to tell you. So here I am doing you a favor.

I want to end with a word for Nigerian women; so fierce, so organized, so resourceful, so wise. When the time came, they (we) rose up to the challenge. So I want to thank them for being so so so transparent with funds, for organizing ambulances, for feeding people, for providing legal help, for providing spa treatments, for providing free therapy, for setting up response lines, for speaking up and out, for tweeting, for posting relentlessly on Instagram, for being angry, THANK YOU. I have never been prouder to identify as a feminist—a  radical one. Women, we get the job done. 

Love, and continual solidarity

I

Friday Reflections

 1.) You know, the other day, even my father asked me what happened to the "Friday stuff" I always post. That is how long it's been. That said, we are back. 

2.) First of all, let us shine the light on the AMAZING revolution going on in Nigeria right now. What a beauty to behold. In a nutshell, Nigerians are protesting against police brutality and oppression using the #ENDSARS hashtag. My goodness, the past few days have been history-making. 

3.) There is so much so say. So so much to say about this protest and I will in my next blog post. I left a long comment on Ijeoma's blog post that made me realize I have a LOT to say about the protest, reactions to it, identity.  Remember that I also literally study things like this: social movements, protests etc. so I have stuff to say from the social justice angle and from the scientific angle. Whew.

4.) So I will definitely be back. But for now, let me say unequivocally: #ENDSARS and #Nigerianlivesmatter

5.) Black lives matter whether in New York or Ogbomoso or Namibia or Congo.

6.) I read this heart wrenching essay by a woman whose husband took his life two years ago. There are so many emotions that it evokes in you especially when you realize the reason he did. I want to remind anyone reading this: if you think you've run out of roads [options], remember that there is ALWAYS more road. ALWAYS.

7.) I also want to shine the light on another heartbreaking personal essay, written by Fahim Saleh's elder sister titled "Mourning my Baby Brother, Fahim". Fahim was heinously murdered in his apartment a few months ago by a former assistant who owed him money. I want to remind anyone reading this: the heart of man is DESPERATELY wicked. 

8.) Black men guarding the home of black mom who was being harassed by white neighbors with feces and dead squirrel. 

9.) How this man went from atheist to Christian. 

10.) Okay the past entries have been too heavy. Here's something foolish and lighthearted: this woman cheated on her husband a week before their wedding. Okay okay, it is more foolish than lighthearted. Still. 

11.) Chimamanda Adichie wrote this beautiful eulogy for her father who suddenly passed away last month, proving once again that she has a way with words. These notes on grief remind us how personal and lonely, yet completely devastating grief is. 

12.) Future grad students, get in here! Lol. Seriously though, if you are applying to grad school this fall, here are tips on how to write your application essay or statement of interest. I will try to continue to share this as application season continues on. I know the earliest deadlines are in December (first week or so). So start that essay NOW.  If you are a black woman, I'm more than happy to go over your application essay for you. 

I am Back, I Think?

I think last month was the first time an entire month would pass without a single post on this blog. And goodness, there are so many reasons for that: evaluating whether I want to continue blogging to begin with (it takes soooo much time), whether it's even worth it, a general sense of ennui about everything, exhaustion with the state of the world, getting tired social media, and goodness, an actual physical exhaustion. The wildest part was how I came here chatting about how finishing my Ph.D.  means I can now dedicate time to my hobbies. *Laughs in trying to publish* Oh, academia! It will take you, chew you, wring you, and then spit you out.

That said, I think I might be back. There has never been a more important time to have a voice and to use that voice. If you don't want to use your voice, then amplify the voice of others. In whatever space you occupy in this world, use it to fight for what you believe in. And you have to believe in something. There has to be something that you care about in this world, because God did not just give us this world, he wants us to fully inhabit it. This means caring more than just yourself or heck even your family. There is too much injustice and oppression in this world for you to settle in your cocoon of privilege and not do a darn thing about it. And I don't understand a person who does not want justice in our world.

That said, as you are advocating, and fighting, speaking out, remember to do so with grace. Remember to not respond to silence others but to have healthy conversations. I want to say even when it's a mad person chatting crap you should still respond with as much grace as possible, but I know this is hard. So at the very least, when you know someone comes to a dialogue with good intentions and a genuine desire to understand, then please be respectful. Don't silence because they don't throw around a soup of woke jargon (not that there is anything wrong with these jargon) just that sometimes, it confuses people.

So I implore you to keep these conversations going. Heck, sit down now, and ask yourself, what issues do I care about the most? Whether in your country or across the world. But make a note of it and start the work to change that issue. We often think we have to be incredibly powerful or that we have to run for office or we have to be famous to do something, nope we don't. I'm not even sure how the conversation got to this. But yes, the point is I am definitely still blogging (for now!) about every and anything. 

I'm working a lot on making research accessible since I am in a capacity to do so. So anything you want me to talk about, I'm down (for almost anything). I truly think I'm back. I have a book of the month post coming up about a really exciting book and yes, continuing our theme of black female authors (yass). I even might have a Friday reflection next Friday (yaaass), and more. So yay!

I hope you stick with me and/or share my work. Thank you for always understanding, especially when I decide social media is too much and send myself on a self-exile because why not?

Ha!

Love,

I

Book of the Month: Becoming by Michelle Obama

Okay. Book of the month: Becoming by Michelle Obama. I am so stale. I know. I can't believe I'm just now reading Obama's Becoming. It is really hard to make this the a book of the month because, how do you write about a book so phenomenal and truly profound? But then again, this book had to go on the record as one of my favorite books. I do generally love memoirs; I have mentioned that before when I wrote about  Trevor Noah and Susan Rice's memoirs. But Michelle Obama's memoir is up there as one of the best, most personal, most heartwarming, and amazing books. The one thought that ran through my mind as I read it was that I did not want to finish reading the book. I just wanted to keep hearing about her life and so I read it sooo slowly; I digested her words page after page;  I consumed it intimately because I did not want it to end. All of this is to let you know I enjoyed reading about Michelle Obama tell the story of her life. I should stop here, and just implore you to read the book. But if you need more convincing, continue below. 

I Got a Ph.D.! How I feel About Defending my Ph.D. Dissertation

This year has been a LOT. A whole LOT for so many reasons. But, I can also say this year 2020 is the year I completed the most difficult task of my life. Exactly one week ago, I defended my dissertation and became a Doctor! 

I wrote on Instagram and Facebook that I was speechless. And I think I still am. I don't know what to say because the past five years have been a combination of torture, anxiety, anger, hard-work, resilience, grit, and extreme grace. Let's recount a little of what it took to get here: a dissertation of exactly 245 pages; a two-hour defense of said dissertation; a harrowing (and soul crushing) proposal defense a year ago; two brutal comprehensive exams two years ago; an oral exam two years ago; a qualifier defense two or three years ago (everything is a blur at the moment); tons of classes. But none of that matters now. What matters is that I PhinishedD. I have a freaking Ph.D. I said on all my social media that my amazing family was there for me so this degree is for all us. I meant it. 

The day I defended, I spoke with a lot of people over the phone. My family, my friends, a lot of people called (or messaged) congratulating me. One conversation stuck. It was with my aunty; my dad's older sister. She mentioned that my grandmother must be rejoicing in heaven that day. See, my grandmother had no education as both my dad and aunty reminded me. Not great grandmother, not some  far fetched ancestor, but my father's mother. She didn't get an education not because she wasn't brilliant but because her own parents could not afford to give her an education. It wasn't even a possibility. And then I got a Ph.D. 

We truly are our ancestors' wildest dreams. 

To be clear, I'm not the first in my family to get an education or even to get a graduate degree. My parents are educated. My siblings are very educated. My cousins are educated too. We are Nigerians after all lmao. I'm not even the first doctor in my family. And by the grace of almighty God, I won't be the last.

I'm saying I don't think any of my grandparents on either side, no matter how wildly they dreamt, could have imagined any of this for their progenies. And that truly blows my mind. I have been thinking about that a lot. 

Anyway, the good thing is I now have some time for some of my passions now and if Covid ever leaves (Lord!) I owe myself the most luxurious vacation. I really do. The best part is just having time. I just have time. I feel light, free, relieved. My gift to myself these past few days has been to wake up without an alarm; I only wake up when my body is ready to wake up. I eat my meals slowly, I luxuriate in almost everything but more so while eating. I love it.

I also can now write more about academia and be much more honest. I've never lied but sometimes, I've had to cool my jets. I already have a reputation for being *ahem* let's not complete that. So I couldn't risk getting in my own way.

But now, ohohohoh LOL

Seriously, though. 

I'm hoping to write more. About academia (sure) but also about everything else. I'm hoping to focus more on this blog and all the other things I rarely had time for. 

But if I'm missing in action in the next few days, please forgive me. So much is still happening as you might expect.

A normal person would post all the celebratory pictures from the defense, right? Right.  Turns out I'm not that normal. You would have to head over to my personal Instagram page for that. I don't know why posting my pictures anywhere (even on my PERSONAL page) comes incredibly hard for me. I'm not anonymous so you can definitely find me on the interwebs if you're curious as to what I look like. 

This is a full on ramble now.

TLDR: I did a thing: I got a Ph.D. I will blog more (I hope). And I have a serious problem with posting pictures online. 

Good recap.

Love,

I

Dealing with Hypocrisy and Hubris in the Church and Among Christians

I hate the new blogger interface. There, I said it. 

Something else: this is such an interesting period of time. I can't believe how lackadaisical people are during a global pandemic. I get not wanting to worry, but to just constantly continue to live like [insert whatever insult here] while ignoring the reality that this pandemic is literally killing people, continues to amaze me. People are throwing all kinds of parties, going to restaurants, pretty much living life as they did before Covid. And I don't just mean the regular ignorant ones that protest mask wearing, I mean people like you and me. Scientists, even. My Instagram feed is revealing y'all. It's such a shame. But okay.

Let's move on.

I recently read Matthew 23. It's not my first time reading it, and I am almost certain I have blogged about it before (currently too lazy to look for it Lol). But like most great things, this is worth repeating. The main question at the forefront of my mind is, why don't pastors talk more about this passage? I'm looking at you, Nigerian pastors. I think it's because this chapter was basically Jesus throwing serious shade at them. Yes, contemporary, modern-day pastors. Let me explain.

So, the disciples were just chilling. 

No one:

Quite Literally No one:

And then,

Jesus: These teachers of the religious law and these Pharisees who are official interpreters of the law of Moses never practice what they preach.

Like okay, read them, Jesus! Read them. Basically, Christ was irritated by the fact that these teachers of the Law crushed people with "unbearable religious demands" and never tried to ease the demands. It's almost machiavellian. It felt like they took pleasure in seeing people struggle with these mostly man-made, arbitrary rules. They made noise about rules and laws that they themselves could never obey or comply with. Does that sound even vaguely familiar?

But Christ was not done. Everything these teachers of the law did was for show. They pray for show. They *ahem* post quote upon quote from the Bible for show. They perform their religion for the sake of appearing pious. They post all kinds of scathing social media posts to remind you how you are not being a good Christian, and only ever post themselves in a good light. They only ever share how they have never sinned, or how good they are at reading the bible, or how amazing they are at recognizing the distinct voice of God. Yes, shade. For them, it's never about the heart. For them, it's a lot about receiving the accolades. Like the Pharisees and the Teachers of the religious Law in Jesus's time, too many people, too many pastors love to sit at the head table at "banquets". They love to receive respectful greetings as they walk around.

"Yes, pastor sir!"

"Yes, Daddy!"

They love when everyone kneels or bows or idolizes them because they are pastors. They believe they are above reproach.

"Touch not my anointed," they and their sycophants always readily say. 

They, as in the Pharisees, love the flattery, the adulation. 

The similarity was staggering. It felt like Jesus was here and now and calling these people out. It's becoming worse because it's moving from real life to followers on Instagram. They love being the authority on everything "Christian". They are the only ones with the manual on being a true Christian. Christ warned against titles for they can easily create separation and superiority in the church.

"Don't let anyone call you 'Rabbi' for you have only one teacher, and all of you are equal as brothers and sisters. And don't address anyone here on earth as 'Father' for only God in heave is your Father." 

- verses 8-9

I mulled and mulled on these verses and it occurred to me that a lot of pastors would never ever agree to being equal to their congregation. Somehow, over the years, either by themselves or from others, a lot of men of God have elevated themselves as higher than the rest of us. I am not kidding. It's why many revel in being called "Daddy" or "Father".  Except, clear as the day Jesus says to not call any of them father. 

Which brings me to, what is the rationale behind calling your pastor Daddy? I don't get it. Never have. Probably never will. And if you call your pastor "Daddy",  I truly truly want to hear from you. 

Why have people chosen to exalt themselves? The way of the world is to put yourself first, to exalt yourself, and brag "on yourself". The way of the world is pride and arrogance. But the way of Jesus is anything but. Time after time after time, he showed us true humility. Why, then, is it that Christian leaders find it so incredibly hard to humble themselves? Why do they exalt themselves in a way Jesus frowned upon? Jesus was counter-cultural in many ways and maybe even slightly confusing in some, but he was clear on what and who he stood for. This is how I know that to be a follower of Jesus is to care about justice. about mercy. about faith. 

"What sorrow awaits you teachers of religious law and you Pharisees. Hypocrites! For you are careful to tithe even the tiniest income from your herb gardens,[a] but you ignore the more important aspects of the law—justice, mercy, and faith. You should tithe, yes, but do not neglect the more important things" v 23

Since I started writing this post, a LOT has happened (it's 2020 after all).  The point being you cannot enforce stringent, meaningless rules over dress codes under the guise of so-called modesty and then you turn around to post a picture of yourself with your pants unzipped [breaking the very rules you decry students for breaking]. Which brings me to: you can't call yourself a party of "family values" and vehemently endorse and back a person with numerous wives who boasts of grabbing women by the pussy. You can't be pro life because it's what Jesus would do and then turn around to lock little kids in cages. You can't be the Christian party and deny people healthcare. No, you can't. You can't do both. You have to pick one. 

I want to stop here now because this is reading like a full on rant and I did not mean for it to be that way at all. I have to be careful. People's hypocrisy can never be an excuse for me to be hypocritical myself. So while there is anger, there is hopefully no judgement. I don't know that these pastors will see this, I can only hope they do.  It's so easy to judge the Pharisees/Teachers of the Law as hypocritical, but the truth is they genuinely thought they were doing what was right. They actually KNEW the law, all of it. So they must have been completely sure they were on the right side of things and I find that so humbling. SO completely humbling. It's very easy to think YOU are on the right side of history even if you're not. This is why it is incredibly important to always evaluate yourself. Be sure you are not just having mere hubris.   I too get angry at that hypocrisy, but then I wonder, in what area am I being a hypocrite myself? Because again, the hypocrisy of others is not an excuse for your to be hypocrites. BUT

If your righteousness is just for show, if it's just for others to see, then what is the point? Ask yourself that.

Again, it's worth asking, do modern day pastors ever read Matthew 23 and feel guilty because, yikes. Christ went IN. He called them fools, hypocrites, sons of hell. To be honest, Christ continually reminds us that it is sometimes okay to be pissed, to be direct, and to not mince words when it comes to impropriety. So if you're mad at nonsense and someone says is that what Jesus would do, say yes. Christ was passionate. Christ was angry at hypocrisy.

So how do you deal with hypocrisy? Like Jesus did, call it out. But while we seek to act like Jesus did, ultimately we are *not* Jesus. We are not perfect like Jesus. So we must tamper our actions with mercy.  I will leave you with my most recent favorite quote, by Robert Madu:

Grace without truth is meaningless

Truth without grace is just mean

Love,

I