From Oosterbeek to Manchester, We Will Remember Them

A Voice at the Lectern

This morning, I was honoured to take the Second Reading, I Thessalonians 4:13-18, at the Remembrance Sunday service at Manchester Cathedral. It could have been a daunting task; my voice is still affected over two years after radiotherapy, and there is the almost terror of hearing your own voice amplified in the cathedral nave, something that has the capacity to leave you tongue-tied in nervous fright.

There were probably a few hiccups, but I am glad that people still came to commend me for my reading. Yet there is more to this occasion than my standing at the lectern in traditional garb, which someone suggested looked quite regal.

Connections Near and Far

An uncle, the husband of my mother's baby sister, was in the Nigerian Army. He may well have fought in the Nigerian Civil War, but no one sat us down to tell stories of war, triumph, or human suffering. We were in England then, and the most I learnt of the Civil War came from the photojournalism of Peter Obe, compiled in his photobook, "Nigeria: A Decade of Crises in Pictures".

I had a partner from Lancashire in the 1990s, whose family history was intricately linked to the Second World War. His maternal grandfather, a soldier in the King's Own Scottish Borderers, 7th (Airborne) Battalion, participated in Operation Market Garden in the Netherlands. He died in combat and is buried in the Arnhem Oosterbeek War Cemetery.

An AI-generated infographic on the blog content. (Click to enlarge.)

His mother in England was born on the day her father was declared missing in Holland. For years, I would meet his grandmother, who travelled from England to Arnhem when the family came over every September, for the memorial services. This built into my psyche: the words, "We will remember them."

A Tradition Kept

Even after we broke up, we remained friends, as we are to this day. I did have a close attachment to his family, and for the friendship we had developed, I was invited to, and did attend, the obsequies for his grandmother, a dear woman of such strength and character, independent to a fault, with a resolution forged out of the tragedy of war.

My friend would come over to the Netherlands when I lived there to continue the tradition his grandmother had observed for some 35 years. There was one time when he invited me to Oosterbeek to visit his grandfather's grave with him. It was a solemn and moving occasion, and I was already in such pain that it presaged my hospital admission barely a month later.

Before the White Headstone

We stood before the grave and read the inscription to a young man of 29 who had a wife, a boy, and a newly born daughter, as well as parents, all of whom would have been waiting for his safe return home. War rips lives apart and tears hearts out. Man's inability to find reconciliation without the shedding of blood, much of it innocent, is exemplified in that white headstone, and in the hundreds or thousands crowded out of view by the cynosure of what brought us there.

Then my friend became emotional. He promised me this had never happened to him before, but in that moment there was a different kind of reckoning: memories and connections to a man from whom he descended, yet who had died over 25 years before he was born.

The Weight of Remembering

This memory is why I appreciate the weight of responsibility and circumstance; to remember, to acknowledge, and to honour those sent into battle to help the greater minds in power come to some sort of compromise to end all hostilities.

I am a pacifist, and yet I do see circumstances where aggression must be met with force, though I am ambivalent, if not trenchant, about how young blood is sacrificed to the ends of men, accepting that resolution cannot come at the shooting of guns but at the meeting of minds.

Blood That Cries Out

As a person of faith, I also think about how much innocent blood has been shed in many lands, and who, in the eternal scheme of things, should have been held accountable for these crimes against humanity. Like the blood of Abel, I believe the blood of the many, shed and spilt to the ground, cries out to heaven for vengeance and justice.

The wrath that awaits some leaders who have initiated war will be unimaginable. This abominable tragedy unleashed on the earth, even into the present, cannot go without divine retribution of eternal consequence.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

Excerpt from For the Fallen - By Laurence Binyon

A Gemini Notebook AI Podcast on this blog

Cancer is a human experience, not a battle won or lost

In the great spirit of man

I did not know much about Chadwick Boseman or the body of work he had done. In fact, when Black Panther was a box office hit, I was still thinking of other representative films as Fences, Hidden Figures and Moonlight.

His passing at 43 after suffering stages of colon cancer diagnosed from 2016 during which he exhibited amazing acting prowess in seminal films is not only commendable but a show of stoicism and human spirit under great life-threatening affliction and infirmity. In the great spirit of man are such fortitude and immeasurable strength.

Cancer is not a battle

When I had Kaposi’s Sarcoma, a form of skin cancer as a result of HIV complications in 2009, I was 43, each time I read of people dying from cancer I find it difficult to appreciate the narrative of losing the battle to cancer.

As we live with it and sometimes live through it, it is rarely a battle, we are not at war, that some of us have survived it is one of great providence with many other factors of medicine, medical care, probably good fortune and even state of mind, but I did not cross swords with cancer and leave it vanquished.

We are given stories to tell

I will not pretend to speak for others who have survived cancer as I have, but what I know was at diagnosis, I was given 5 weeks to live, if my physiology did not respond to the treatment favourably. The consultant, however, was confident that if I did respond well, it would be fine. In just 5 weeks, I will mark the 11^th year of my first session of chemotherapy.

Cancer is a scourge on humanity, maybe even a terror and terrorist as it ravages our bodies and we are left at the mercies of many things outside our control except for our human spirit that remains a force of life until our bodies give in to find eternal rest.

For me, I have been given a story and the way I tell it is, cancer happens, it is part of life, some of us live it to the end and others come through it, but until we are gone, we are still here, to some a hope, to others a light, that it does not have to end with just that.

All experiences are gifts to medicine

Any death from cancer reveals our vulnerability even more, to such a young man, there are no easy answers but the fond memories and tributes we can offer in recognition of his life along with the support and sympathy we can offer his survivors.

In everyone’s experience is also some new knowledge for medicine to give us all new hopes for survival. That is what gave my consultant confidence at my prognosis and that is why I encourage inviting medical students to my consultations. I am a story of possibility not of triumphalism over cancer.

May the soul of Chadwick Boseman rest in peace.

Nigeria: And when they were down

Oh, The grand old Duke of York,
He had ten thousand men;
He marched them up to the top of the hill,
And he marched them down again.

And when they were up, they were up,
And when they were down, they were down,
And when they were only half-way up,
They were neither up nor down.

The Grand Old Duke of York

Of trust and less

The Nigerian military has put itself in a rather difficult position of needing support whilst not being quite trustworthy. Too many times they have put a spin on stories that have turned out to be outright lies.

Their engagement with the Boko Haram militancy in north-eastern Nigeria has exposed fundamental rank and file deficiencies in the forces from low morale to not being adequately equipped to handle the insurgency.

The nursery rhyme at the start of this blog almost fully illustrates the almost futile exercise of winning anything until a radical reform of our whole military apparatus is put in place. Sadly, I do not think many well-meaning Nigerians are convinced that this regime has the will, mien or wherewithal to get this done as determined purposeful exercise, a stunt or a fluke.

An aimless march

When they were up, what we have read of is a scorched earth policy of pillage and massacre, extra-judicial killings and lawlessness, many of these highlighted by civil rights groups that there is very little to differentiate what they have done with war crimes.

When they were down, it has been barracks sacked, mutiny against generals, being under-equipped against the absurd but worryingly sophisticated tactics and weaponry of Boko Haram, soldiers let down by their generals, unnecessarily martyred as if sent into battle with their guns stopped or hands tied behind their back. The soldiers are brave because of who they are, not because of example and character exemplified by the military brass. It is a shame.

Recently, it was the wives of the soldiers who were protesting sending their husbands to war unfit for the task to which they were deployed. The real down that the military has passed off as a military manoeuvre depending on who you believe is that 480 soldiers have either fled into Cameroon in flight from Boko Haram or crossed into Cameroon in a military strategy to fight back, who knows? [BBC]

At the same time, Boko Haram declared an Islamic caliphate in Gwoza, the region where they have held sway, and even though the area is under a state of emergency, they act with impunity and writ large, the Nigerian authorities literally unable to project power and unchallenged sovereignty.

The Nigerian military have rejected the claim, but actions would matter much more than words. Ruefully, until we see something different, we have an alternative and illegal power in control in the north-eastern Nigeria.

We are not winning

Back to the nursery rhyme, it appears they’ve gone up the hill and down again, and now that they are only halfway up, they are neither up nor down. There does not seem to be plan, purpose, aim, strategy or any conceivable idea as to how the Boko Haram menace would be arrested and dealt with.

The Commander-in-Chief was ensconced in Germany on some personal retreat away from the chaos of Nigeria does not seem to be a general at war, rather he fiddles like Nero as Nigeria burns, proffering empty platitudes to the realities that Nigerians under the cosh of terror face, literally oblivious of things when buried in the cosy cocoon of Aso Rock – it is both a travesty and an atrocity.

The truth is we are shamefully and inadequately NOT winning this war against Boko Haram, no fanciful pronouncement would take away from the fact that the Nigerian forces are down and fearfully, maybe out too.

Thought Picnic: Cheating My Cords and Weigh

Weigh ways

We obsess and we worry about the figure and the body, between the sexes and the issues of health we find ourselves counting weighing, looking, adjusting and reassessing but almost never where we want to be in the heart of our vanities.

I have seen it when the scales showed figures that made me cover my eyes in embarrassment and then when I had to cover my mouth with shock all for all sorts of reasons that now require I keep it stable especially if at one time you lost a whole fifth of your weight because your body was in a fight for its existence.

Weigh bays

Then it mostly came back on but between you and your doctor is the matter of 10kg, he wants you to add more and you want to keep it down that at one time the scale seemed to be the step into the bathroom with memories of the last time I stepped on it and a different that could be a plus or a minus – it really became silly.

Fancying myself a twink, not a rib in sight nor was there fat to pinch as I looked down my trousers to see my feet. Gosh! I’m so thin; I thought as I could not walk through airport security checks without the possibility of a mishap, having taken off my belt for the incongruous war against terror checks that were half a strip tease without the music, taking the joy out of travel.

Waheys!

As the day approaches that I will be visiting my consultant for my check-up again, I would suppose the scales will read a figure lower than I have seen in a while because if I am to free myself from the encumbrance of a belt, only hands in my pockets will keep them up.

Not as if one will go out for a walk without a belt to maintain the dignities and graces one is accustomed to.

Homosexuality: They stood ready to cast stones

Introduction

I have consistently laid out my stall on the matter of human rights as they pertain to the way society, religion, culture, values or laws fail to protect, enshrine and pursue the primary secular tenets of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR).

It is for that reason that I did not need any persuasion to put my total support behind the petition to Help stop Nigeria's anti-gay bill - SIGN NOW which I posted as a Facebook Status on my wall.

As it transpired, one of my friends who from times past earns my gratitude and respect during a time of serious life issues decided to make his views known on the matter which draws its foundation first from some radical Christian perspective and that disingenuously merges that with some concept of African values that on scrutiny are really not ones we should espouse.

Whilst, I will invite you to read the whole thread of the exchanges that ensued on my Facebook page, I have taken the parts that have written creating a blog for purposes of recording for posterity my views. The audience for this is without apology the perfect Christians who have sided on the part of accusers of other with the premise that they God either rightfully or arrogantly – A good number of them are Nigerians or fundamentalist religionists and basically, it is war against intolerance from this time on.

African values and Christian diktat

My first response went to the heart of my friend’s attack, his surprise at my stance had to be routed with a clearly addressing what informed his flawed premise, that of extreme religious piety pretending to moral untouchability and that vague but explored concept of African values in detail.

I am saddened that your stance on this reeks of bigotry and hatred that exudes what has become modern day Christianity but nothing of relevance to the gospel of Christ.

What African values are those that you so espouse and celebrate to the hurt of your fellow man because they are different?

Our land because it is yours, mine and that of homosexual Nigerians too has a right to not only protect all its citizens, it is incumbent of its leadership to raise the bar beyond the ignorance that pretends to false moral rectitude.

Misplaced priorities

The more important issues like corruption, sexual violence against women, human rights for kids that affect the majority of Nigerians are all left unsolved for an issue - gay marriage - that hardly has the hope of reality in the country but engages the idle mind in mass mob hysteria - if not for the so-called whites, we will still be killing our twins, selling our enemies off to slavery, burning our widows, using our albinos in fetishes, worshipping idols with bizarre sacrifices and eating ourselves for supper - and those were all once great African values.

I have nothing to apologise for, the law is wrong in Nigeria, in Africa and anywhere else humanity exists.

Views that promote societal discordance

In response to my niece’s question about how people become gay and in the light of the drift of the conversation, I averred.

But @Grace, how many gays in Nigeria are really thinking of marriage if we are honest at all? Even in the Netherlands, gays are not trooping down the aisle in "unholy" matrimony, the matter of commitment and love is still a strong issue regardless of pairing of sexes.

This, for me is a human rights issue, the religious slant to it excites all the agitation of the mob for blood and never for healing and reconciliation - it breeds fear, negativity, terror and hate - none of which are the core tenets of the religious decency we all assume we have.

Putting today’s Christians in context

In response to my friend’s further comments along with others that were made, it was important to home in on the core attitudes that give homophobia it’s oxygen by showing the historical parallels between the gospel times of Jesus and modern day religiosity.

I think I had already made my point at the beginning of this thread about unChrist-like Christians who like are all read up on the law, the jot and tittle but have no compassion, mercy or heart - they were the Pharisees, the Sadducees and Scribes who continually withstood Jesus at every point of His ministry.

Jesus and the notorious

They could not bear to see Jesus heal the sick on the Sabbath [they would rather follow tradition than see the relief of the oppressed] or mix with the sinners (See what was said in the NLT version of Luke 15 1-2), they were ready to cast the first stone, they would rather sacrifice humanity on the altar of their long held traditions, principles, values and what not; the same people who plotted to have Jesus killed because they feared they will lose the political power of their religious influence. (See John 11:47-48)

(Luk 15:1 NLT) Tax collectors and other notorious sinners often came to listen to Jesus teach.

(Luk 15:2 NLT) This made the Pharisees and teachers of religious law complain that He was associating with such sinful people—even eating with them!

It is important to note that Jesus had something to say that made as it were notorious sinners draw near to listen to Him, and it is interesting to see how the religious people hated the idea – the parallel is in the fact that there are very few Christians if any who have any words to speak that can attract notorious sinners – one might conclude they have more in common with opponents of Jesus Christ in the day than they have with the Master.

(Joh 11:47 KJV) Then gathered the chief priests and the Pharisees a council, and said, What do we? for this man doeth many miracles.

(Joh 11:48 KJV) If we let him thus alone, all men will believe on him: and the Romans shall come and take away both our place and nation.

The parallel today is how politics and religion is used to oppress a minority whilst galvanising the majority to unfounded moral outrage – the crowd cleverly corralled under the power and spell of their leaders.

Devoid of compassion

Indeed, there is much to see in the Book of the Law [with literally impossible rules for modern day], in the Prophets [whose prophecies of doom and gloom suited theocracies than democracies] & in the Acts & Epistles [all off-shoots of the ministry of Jesus Christ] but when you return to the gospel [the story of Jesus Christ amongst men, His message, His lifestyle and His sacrifice], the greatest challenge the devout Christian faces today is to minister love to humanity like Jesus did to the vile sinners, the demon possessed, the ostracised from society as the woman with the issue of blood, the Gadarene or the lepers amongst the many miracles of Jesus.

There was need for Jesus to die, however it was facilitated by the hardness of heart of the core religious people of that day, the same core religious people would have today strung Jesus up on the cross because He most definitely would NOT have condemned the homosexual just as He did not condemn the woman caught in adultery - it is what this law does too and as much as the "holier than thou" people who fulminate on my timeline - you might be Christians but you have NOT the love of Christ in you.

Loving and hating – choose one

After this, there was a lull in activity until one came with that mantra of loving the sinner and hating the sin. To which that can only have been the following response.

‎@Ola When you produce the bible chapter and verse of “Love the sinner, hate the sin.” you will have a point.

If you are using a saying which has become the tradition of men to make the effective power of the gospel of Christ of none effect and excuse unChrist-like behaviour, then you have hated the sinner more than the sin.

(Mar 7:13 KJV) Making the word of God of none effect through your tradition, which ye have delivered: and many such like things do ye.

The fact is no such reference in the holy books about loving the sinner and hating the sin, a parallel analogy would be to be complaining of the darkness in a well lit room, not only is it plain stupid, people might wonder about the sanity of the person.

However, there are many instances of colloquialisms and sayings that have become common place watering down the truth of the Scriptures for the convenience of people seeking to express the worst of their humanity in a show of contemptible piety – it is to those people and many who stray into this cachet that I address this blog.

America: John McCain is NOT the man

The look of a fight

I asked a friend this afternoon at lunch if when he fights he looks up, he said no, because he might just suffer a knockout blow – he is a boxer.

This exemplifies the message the Senator McCain has for the American people and the world of tomorrow, we are in a fight, a bruising fight, and we cannot afford to look up.

We have to look around in anticipation and anxiety, sometimes in fear and terror, when the sucker punch lands, our knees buckle; we are down, defeated in despair, despondency, desperation and wishing for death.

Need a leader of men

We probably do need to fight, but I want to be lead by a leader of men, not a maverick fighter pilot who’s daredevilry might well win that battle but the risks taken in the war are sometimes beyond the price we should be willing to pay.

The greater the number of age, we assume we have a sage, a fount of wisdom coming from years of application, dedication and honest dint of hard work.

Emeritus the contemporary

However, like the Economist opines, this week, it is unlikely that a struggling global conglomerate would call on a 72-year old to run the company.

I would contend that calling on the 72-year old would only make sense if that company was that man’s baby, well, Senator McCain was never the founder of America and he was never close to executive power to be called back to refloat what he built – the question of experience in that matter is moot.

However, the wizen mind of a 72-year old can be found in emeritus positions in academia, the honorary rather than executive chairmanships of organisations and in the retirement and comfort of an easy life of offering counsel, advise and mentorship – beyond that, the man is probably an under-achiever looking for a last break.

The quest of our fathers

A man driven to achieve more than his father and his grandfather is a worthwhile son of his father, but there comes a time where that man should be content with what he has done and built on that rather than desperately want to prove yourself beyond your capabilities.

Then the one time he could have sealed the claim that he stands up to his party, he buckled and jettisoned a lifetime of collaborations, friendships, partnership and liaisons for a lady he had only previously met twice to bolster his ticket, they have already begun to bicker - perish the thought of a White House domestic tiff.

The son of perdition

This is the son of perdition and definitely not destiny’s child, the world has seen enough fighting, enough belligerences, enough divisiveness and enough pain, we need a promise, a hope, a yearning, a vision and a destination that fills us with great expectations.

Senator McCain was a man of great renown, but the call of today, the fight of tomorrow and the making of history requires another man, another ideal, another proposition and a validation of a campaign that has been so well organised and fills us with a hope that makes us look upwards – That man is NOT Senator John McCain.

Benazir Bhutto, 1953 - 2007

Killed in the safest place

If I thought the year 2007 would run out on the note of events that have already taken place with the effects of the credit crunch, the prospects of recessions and economic show-downs coupled with low consumer confidence and Madeleine McCann, I was wrong.

I had hardly had breakfast and returned to my room when I heard of a suicide bomb attack in Rawalpindi, Pakistan on the convoy of Benazir Bhutto, we were first told she was safe, that was not the case, she was mortally wounded.

Rawalpindi if you may know is the military headquarters of the Pakistan; it has the intelligence services and obviously should have the best security measures you can hope to have in such a volatile country.

The question remains how a suicide bomber first took a shot at Benazir Bhutto´s neck and possibly her chest before compounding the commotion with a self conflagration that wasted over 20 lives – in Rawalpindi.

That would be point of discussion as one hopes that all the people behind this heinous, cruel, shameful, cowardly act of gross terrorism are caught and punished.

The Pakistan of today has all the hallmarks of Pervez Musharraf´s misgovernment and pseudo-democracy that has proved more ruinous for Pakistan over the last 8 years.

But we have to pause for thought as our prayers, heartfelt sympathy and condolences are conveyed to the family of Benazir Bhutto who was assassinated this afternoon in Rawalpindi.

Pakistan looking forward

The future of Pakistan is in the balance as our overriding policy of the war on terror is condemning to the scrapheap essential matters of true democratic reform in favour of comfortable but corrupt alliances with the West.

Ms. Bhutto was a flawed personality amidst allegations of corruption and other accusations of impropriety, but in all that Pakistan has to offer of leadership, it appears she still embodied the aspirations of the masses as they flocked to her rallies in the hope that she had a message and a solution to their ills and situations.

This chapter closes with 3-days of mourning for a lady who served her country twice as Prime Minister, the ramifications however would be more far-reaching than we can begin to fathom, eventually, one would hope Pervez Musharraf would be swept away then allowing the governing institutions of Pakistan to thrive as bastions of real democracy.

Pakistanis deserve that much and like President Bush said in his statement about this killing – they should honour Benazir Bhutto memory with a return to democracy. My hope is that it would be a properly representative democracy rather than the charade that now exists.

Benazir Bhutto – leader, voice, hope and martyr – Rest in peace.

4 years of blogging - Thanks!

Write away

Four years ago, I found an outlet, a place to vent my spleen, a place to turn over the issues, events, ideas that affect me in all sorts of ways – I found blogging.

I have always liked political conversation, from a child I had an engaging interest in current affairs, as I travel a lot, I have been amazed at how I meet other travellers and no matter where they are from, I seem to know some current event about their homelands.

Yet, my day job has nothing to journalism, politics in a broad sense if you leave out office politics or public relations – I am an everyday geek working with computers and providing solutions in that field.

I must confess, I am a bit of a news junkie – I need to know what is going on and something comes up that sounds incredible, sometimes unbelievable, usually farcical, at times profound, occasionally downright stupid or amazingly ground-breaking – these sometimes reflect my emotional reactions to those things.

I have heard myself say – “Who writes these lines?” “No Kidding” “That is unbelievable” and more – all these reactions find a way of becoming my experience penned out in a blog.

Numbers and thanks

In four years, I have written close to 800 blogs and sometimes I go over something I have written before and wonder what facet of my personality was being exposed, it sometimes reads like an entirely different person and makes me realise that we are repositories of great potential and almost never exploit that resource to the full.

In all, I must express thanks and gratitude to people who have visited my blog, left interesting comments, become part of my community and become friends – I know I do not write to everyone’s liking, but that is the reason it is my blog and nobody else’s, the fact that it is public is coincidental – well, maybe not.

In closing, I would like to revisit some of the blogs I have posted over the years, some of the content still holds true and others are just as trivial as they are.

Highlights

One topic that affected me most was an event in January 2007, as bloggers have gotten used to tagging each other to learn more about their quarry, there was this post about sexual experiences, many were talking about their first copulation in their mid to late teens mine did not read like the first urges of consensually stolen moments of ecstasy, rather someone was doing me at 7 – it exposed the underbelly of child-sex abuse that never gets properly resolved in Nigerian society, I hope my contribution to the topic was useful. – My Sex Post (17^th January 2007).

I have never married but I have always been intrigued by the man-wife dynamic, sometimes communication breaks down, the relationship gets physical then customs, culture and traditions militate against finding the best solution to an untenable situation – Batter yourself, not your wife (21^st February 2006).

What PowerPoint presentations have become in corporate organisations can be likened to what karaoke is in a night club. Sometimes so much energy is expended on presentation to the detriment of the job itself – my polemic - Alexis' PowerPoints were her shoulder pads ... (11^th December 2003).

Three Moroccans fuelled on alcohol and drugs found release in kicking me to the ground and sending me to hospital – I only wished the police had the initiative to take my report at the station outside the hospital rather than try and fulfil bureaucratic idiocy of asking me to lodge that report somewhere else – I walked away – Couscous from a bicycle (5^th December 2004).

Some would have wondered if I had a fascination with cows, I had to ask how beef from one cow ends up in 9 states – Cult of the Mad Cow (29^th December 2003), how supermarkets keep your beef steak looking fresh and red – The Beauty of the dead cow (22^nd February 2006) and a cow could not have been holier than Shambo – Vigil for the cow eternal (24^th July 2007).

I was writing about football and I have written a lot about the sad state of English football. This time I was writing about the 2006 World Cup, some teams I expected to perform were doing poorly and I was explaining how Holland was really 2 provinces of the Netherlands with a map. It has become my most popular post because everyone who searches for a map of the Netherlands almost always ends up on my blog – maybe I should rename that post to creating blog traffic – Looking for football miracles (18^th June 2006).

I have bashed religionists, lamented about Nigeria excoriated a lot of policies around the war on terror and commented on all sorts of socio-political issues - sexuality, liberty, African leadership and many other things.

Finally, we must not forget the children; the memory of Yanire Izaga who died so young at the hands of those she loved and Madeleine McCann who till today is missing, abducted from the comfort of a holiday bed in Portugal.

As for blogging, it is my catharsis and has such beneficial therapeutic quality for me, I hope it does for you.

Thank you, everyone.

The Grand Old Duke of Pakistan

I love the English

The English can be so wicked; dressing up the most scathing criticism with the novelty of a nursery rhyme exemplifies that kind of pretend kindness that is equivalent of taking long knives in the back whilst seeing everyone smile at the event.

The debacle that Pakistan has settled into is not only puzzling but farcical; a tin-pot general who thinks his incumbency would be threatened by the judiciary imposes emergency rule and sacks the bench and puts his puppets on the bench.

Pulling all stops

He stops people from gathering to protest his megalomania as the constitution is caught between the limbo of being suspended and being the basis of the rule that is martial law in everything but name.

The election date became a moveable feast that moved from January to February and then back to January, but nobody is free to campaign for elections that would take place in less than 60 days if they do.

The khaki-thug who commands an air of grudging respectability from the West because of the perverseness of the war on terror might just find that his firstname Pervez is really a colloquial corruption of perverse as people get corralled into prison with impunity and house arrest orders get imposed and removed; the cordons and barricades swung in and out of place like a matador coaxing a bull – and I am in Spain – Pakistan might well run out of prison space as the brigands in police uniform mob the public with sticks and staves and slaps.

Drunk with intoxicating power

When he said imposing this rule which seems to have no focus apart from whims that seem to chart the course of a completely inebriated man on his way home in the witching hour was the hardest thing he had ever done – one can see how power-drunkenness that lead one to do foolish things.

However, enough of this and let us see how history would remember the Grand Old Duke of Pakistan and notice that history just has a way of repeating itself location not withstand – the similarities are left for you to note.

The nursery rhyme

O! The Grand old Duke of York

He had ten thousand men

He marched them up to the top of the hill

And marched them down again.

And when they were up, they were up

And when they were down, they were down

And when they were only halfway up

They were neither up nor down.

This is as I remember it, we marched, stood up and sat down to the events depicted in the nursery rhyme none the wiser about the fact that we were making fun of an army general.

I would not pen the Pakistani version, there are literary proponents ad poets in that country better talented to give us a nursery rhyme that depicts the events in Pakistan today for posterity.

General Pervez Musharraf would be remembered well maybe not the way he would want to be remembered but that shows how much control we have of the present and none particularly of the future and history.

Preferences

Pakistan’s Political Crisis

De excitement La Catalunya

Packing the world

One might say, wonder why one would be visiting Barcelona for a week for a conference without taking in the weekend. Well, I decided to sandwich the busy week into two weekends so my trip to Barcelona today and returning next Sunday.

I finally packed my bag after having just about an hour’s conversation with my brother in Nigeria, I still have not mastered the art of travelling light; I take so much and almost always end up forgetting what I want and packing what I never use.

Just because I thought I might run late, I called a taxi which turned back 5 minutes into the journey because I had forgotten my phone – all my appointments and contacts are in that thing, so I was glad that I did not use public transport or else that situation would have been impossible to redeem.

The comfort of having a Flying Blue Silver card – need to travel more – and the trappings of business class meant one could jump queues for check-in and security.

Cane must hit head hard

All went well till one jobs-worthy customs oaf said I could not take my cane on the plane because I did not need it to walk with the metal detector – how much of a foolish talk is that?

I have been through Amsterdam Schiphol Airport about 30 times this year and each time I have take my cane apart into its 4 constituent parts and put it all in the check-in tray, no complains, but today they had a chiropractor loafing around checking people’s backs I suppose.

Here I was mouthing through every ailment I ever had along with the occasional back pain that compels me to use the cane as if I now have to carry around a doctor’s certification that allows me to take a cane through customs.

Anyway, after such vehement remonstration bordering on anger as one begins to recognise the atrocious constrictions of this stifling war on comfort named war on terror, I got my cane, put it together, did the revise strip-tease of putting my things back on and walked away with a huff – as one of the customs ladies who had a semblance of humanity in her sinews gave me a smile.

Then off to the KLM lounge where the ladies at the reception succoured me and told me the fact that they had to suffer these indignities twice a day as part of their working at the airport, I suddenly did not feel too sorry for myself.

It was night to be addressed by name as I was served on the plane, a bit of turbulence and the view over the Pyrenees was as magnificent as you could get of any view from the air and then 10 extra degrees of Celsius warmth, one would not want to be anywhere else but in Barcelona.

Hotel, not hell

When I arrived at the hotel which was fully-booked from the Microsoft contact site but available through a full package booking on lastminute.nl which is become a neat way to book holidays lately, I was informed I would have a top-floor room with amazing views of Barcelona, I suspected I was being sold crap, but I had to see the room first.

I could hardly get my luggage into the room and this was with the help of the bellboy, single-bed and window only a balcony I could not reach, views of Barcelona – my foot! There was no way I would spend 8 nights in this shack of a pretend-penthouse squeeze.

Meanwhile, the reception had called up for my passport which the bellboy took away for a photocopy to be made; I called reception and asked for a bigger room, first I was given the spiel about standard single rooms and I offered to pay the extra cost to be upgraded; I think the bellboy informed them that I had offered a generous tip so I got another room, probably triple the size with a balcony that I could access and even sit 2 other guests – at no extra charge.

As usual, if you do not ask, you might as well suffer in silence and be eaten up by the utter inconvenience.

Wireless helpless

I got online as reception feigned complete ignorance about the WiFi service which had me calling the Swisscom helpdesk where a competent lady called Barbara took my call from Portugal and we both did the troubleshooting that indicated there were problems with DNS which we resolved after about 20 minutes on the phone.

I decided to go for a walk and had reception give me an idea of my bearings, the metro station was just across the road and getting a ticket required a bank card which I swiftly retrieved from the hotel.

And the ticket machine swallowed my card – I consciously said to myself, this is not want I need in order not to say the clichéd “Just what I need”.

Thankfully, the transport security guys were there and they got to station supervisor to retrieve my card before my holiday went tunnelling into desperate despair.

The night had only begun, I should be out for dinner soon and one can only say Barcelona would be fun.

Musharraf cannot fool us again

Guns to the rule

That Pakistan is caught in the throes of those who wield power through the comfort and support of the barrel of the gun rather than popular political mandate is an unfortunate development.

However, that would not have mattered to me because the regime of General/President Pervez Musharraf has thrived on the basis of America and the West putting the war on terror above real democratic reform in Pakistan.

Despite that, there is still trouble in Afghanistan; Osama bin Laden still sends us videos of home life and the Northwest of Pakistan bordering Afghanistan is still as ungovernable as it ever was – terror has visited the main cities as self-interest amongst the leading politicians leaves carnage in their wake.

General Musharraf believes that imposing emergency rule which is in fact martial law in everything but name would stop Pakistan from committing suicide.

We would be fools no longer

Regarding Pakistan, we have been taken for fools for a long time and this would have been believable if Musharraf had just come round to clean out a seething mess, but he is the one who has presided over Pakistan over the last eight years and to pretend he is not only instrumental and central to the problems of today is dishonest to say the least.

To then address the world and contend that our expectations of democracy in Pakistan are too lofty since the democracies in the West have had centuries to mature is to pull the wool over our eyes – Is India’s democracy not the same age as the time Pakistan got its independence?

Pakistan, Bangladesh (East Pakistan until 1971) and India used to be part of the same entity of the British Empire – British India - up until the independence in 1947; India has made the greatest progress in democratic maturity whilst the other two countries have vegetated into quasi-religious militancy with fragile political frameworks that pander to the cult of political dynasties.

General Musharraf has no answers to the problems in Pakistan and egregious exercise of military-backed executive remit in dismissing judges who contend with how the constitution is being abused; the arresting of political minds who would question this power-grab and the suspension of the constitution are only going to make matters worse.

Accepting the unacceptable

Unfortunately, the war on terror would prevent a proper condemnation of these extra-constitutional developments and it sets no template by which other military juntas around the world can be de-politicised.

The people of Pakistan would have to rise up and demand that they be given the right to decide who presides over their nation; it is unlikely that General Musharraf in his uniform or Mr. Pervez Musharraf in a Taliban tunic would win any popular support.

History and case studies all around the world where soldiers have marched rough-shod over the yearnings of real democratic reform show that they only have the terrifying effect of the fear of gun-borne retribution; they bring nothing of political progress to their countries, rather, they entrench corruption, impunity and human-rights abuses.

That is not to say democracy has all the answers, but Pakistan does need to be put back on the road to real representative democracy without some tin-pot General trying to lecture us on government having lost all credibility as a leader that can be trusted.

The sham of civilian government we are told still exists when the political leadership have been placed under arrest, restrictions exist on news reporting and the usurpation of powers that belong to the judiciary and legislature leaves much to be desired – as any government without a popular mandate always finds itself at variance with the judiciary that it tries either to subsume or emasculate that branch of government.

At no time has it become so necessary for General Musharraf to seek political asylum in some far-flung land and allow for Pakistan to be delivered from the throes of suicide that he and him only has created and fostered.

Mile-high monkey takes hat seat

Fist full of monkey

One would hope that this was not for real, but the incredible is now par for the course, it really has to be astonishingly miraculous to be surprising nowadays - it is impossible to shock anyone such that ones jaw dropping to the floor can be termed a rebellious response to conserving energy and body heat.

In this age of the war against terrorism and the paralysing paranoia of running the gauntlet of airport security one would think this was a science fiction dream.

Somehow, a man travelled from Lima, Peru to LaGuardia airport in New York with a few hours stopover in Fort Lauderdale, Florida with his monkey (marmoset) pet under his hat without detection, till the animal came out for a breather during the second leg of his journey within the United States.

It would appear there was a time someone thought the swishing tail of the monkey was the man's ponytail.

Scanning voids

So much for security checks, X-Ray scanning and checked baggage, if a man could successfully go through customs checks without once having to doff his hat - it is no doubt a daring thing to do and no matter that charges are filed against the man, there was a complete lapse in checks at Peru and within the United States.

Supposedly, he was a passenger in transit in Florida and hence might not have had to go through stringent checks reserved for those entering the travel circuit from Florida, it is still amazing that no one noticed on the flight from Peru which would have been a good few hours.

A vector for terror

The greater concern however is the possibility that if this animal were a vector for some pathogenic organism, the conditions in a depressurised cabin for the hours of flight might have had the passengers in such danger graver than could be imagined - the Ebola virus or some simian-borne agent that could be so contagious and transmissible.

Seeking commonsense and comfort

Before we get ahead of ourselves, the monkey has now been handed over to the New York animal control officials and the man arrested. There is the plan to keep the monkey in quarantine for a month, but what if, the people on that flight had picked up something for which they should be in quarantine rather that walking the streets incubating secondary vectors of a disease?

Commonsense should prevail in this case, but the more serious matter here is that checks did not discover this possible terrorism opportunism and the consequences that could be too scary to narrate. Roamland Insecurity rules.

Deserving neither liberty nor safety

Losing the protection of our liberties

Sometimes I bewildered about who is becoming the extremist in this unceasing War on Terror or War on Terrorism, could it be the terrorists or our governments?

The indicators versus the reactions are just too outlandish for contemplation, one sometimes wonders if the terrorists have not now achieved well beyond the nominal goal of curtailing our freedoms and overrunning our liberties with impunity.

A few years ago, it was the shoe bomber that lead to security staff asking us to take off our shoes at the security screening posts, one would have thought we were about to enter a mosque.

Last August it was the alleged desire of some terrorists without passports or air tickets to take down transatlantic planes with everyday cosmetics and whilst an outright ban on cosmetics would have left us no different from women in Purdah, the inability to take through drinks might just eventually lead to the inability to use toilets on the plane, just in case the contact between bodily fluids and toilet disinfectants causes noxious fumes.

Thankfully, the ban on hand luggage was relaxed as sense eventually prevailed.

The vigilant public

So, a number of vehicles have been apprehended before their lethal cargo was detonated to create great havoc. None of the two vehicles in London were noticed by the security measures we have in place, rather, the public observed smoke coming out of one car and another had been towed away for wrongful parking.

Luck, rather that methodical data mining or some counter-terrorism measure sifting through yottabytes of data and CCTV footage got these culprits and nipped a possible carnage in the bud.

Out goes the argument for identity cards preventing terrorism; it is a consciously alert and observant community with clear social responsibilities enhanced by trust and NOT a nannying state that overcomes terrorism; our vigilance must be cultivated and nurtured to the good of society - they should not take advantage of the circumstance to and unwarranted suspicion in our multi-cultural communities.

However, because one such vehicle approached the airport in Glasgow by ramming into the entrance as a burning object, we cannot now approach airports in our cars - there is a car ban. The drop-off/pick-up culture has met a sudden demise, as our cautious application of preventative measures encroach seriously on our rights of access and movement in the quest for some temporary safety.

The perception of temporary safety

Generally, we would all acquiesce to this curtailment whilst the Home Secretary goes into overdrive enacting new laws to protect us by denying us a few more of the rights people spilt blood for in the 20^th Century.

One cannot expect a commonsense approach to the threat of terrorism as the authorities are caught in a no-win situation - to do nothing is to be careless and when something is done, it is irrational but made to look sensible.

There is probably an amusing perspective to all this, which is how the threat of terrorism is able to create governmental hysteria or paralysis coupled with paranoia whilst the government tries to create a calming atmosphere for the general public.

If airports and aircraft are really the soft targets for terrorists, these bans are hardly working, we should just ground the planes and tell passengers to stay at home - even the Carbon Nazis would rejoice that the sudden reduction of carbon pollution.

But like the oft-attributed and oft-misquoted saying of Benjamin Franklin in 1759 - "Those who would give up Essential Liberty to purchase a little Temporary Safety, deserve neither Liberty nor Safety" - how that rings truer today than then.

So, our governments give us temporary safety from terrorist threats by untrammelled curtailment of our essential liberties, we find that we are neither in safety nor in liberty and frankly, we deserve neither.

Who is winning this war?

My Spanish Indecision - Easter in Madrid

Madrid for Easter

A long weekend and my thoughts were in overdrive about where I had never been before. I had the choice between Copenhagen and Madrid, I ended up with Madrid because it had hotels belonging to the Accor chain which Copenhagen did not, I had decided on a 4-star Sofitel smack bang in the centre.

This means, I have still not visited a Scandinavian country ever, sad, but I have till now resisted every attempt to get me off to Norway for official business, I have cried I am from tropics, do not send me to the North Pole, that grovelling supplication has kept me out of those lands all winter.

Then to learn that Madrid would be colder and wetter than Amsterdam over Easter, it would make one think the weather travelled with me.

My flight over was quite lovely and as we approached Madrid the cloud cover was not so bad that I even took pictures from the flight being able frame in the shadow of plane I was in.

Per hotel per issue

I seem to have my share of problems with hotels no matter how will appointed, this time with was first the LAN connection which got fixed after the receptionist lost me an important write-up, I should have kept him miles away from my laptop.

The next day, suddenly, the television would not recognise that there were 2 guests in my room and so would not provide a menu of other service options, just television channels and no LAN link.

When I called reception about the problem, the man was about to start with telling me the service is not a primary hotel facility, I cut him off with a terse - Don't give me that kind of line, it is unprofessional and annoying to guests. My requirement is a room with a full service of Internet access and television services, please arrange this as you will see in my reservation request.

The television did not get fixed till the next morning, but I ended up with a free 24hr wireless LAN connection access, which was helpful but then some service-oriented businesses try to cop-out with a compensation offer rather than providing the service or ensuring the service is available.

Basically, I hate compensation, it cheapens the whole idea of expecting and receiving the service you have requested.

Doing Madrid

We have done a few things, good Spanish food but we have never been about to get a decent restaurant before 22:00 even when we got the reception who are slowly redeeming themselves to book a table in the restaurant that serves the best paella in Madrid. La Paella de la Reina 39 - reservations recommended.

The Royal Palace in Madrid has had my custom, a whole day spent looking through the opulence of Spanish royalty or possibly the rape of the people for the aggrandisement of the privileged few - sometimes visiting such places does tempt one to become republican.

After 4 hours of museum saunter, neck ache from looking up at frescos of megalomania and idolatry, masters by the hands of Goya, Valasquez and Caravaggio to name a few, my back ached like I had been given the Spanish Inquisition version of a back massage, thankfully, my cane did help in succouring the pain.

It definitely became clear why the Spaniards had the temerity to challenge England to many wars, many of which they lost, the Royal Armoury was quite a feast of weapons wrought to damage other fellow human-beings and how royal kids were groomed for a life of the savagery of war.

No flash photography was allowed within the palace walls which meant some rooms were too dark for photography to produce the best images, makes one wish for a camera that develop the real colour of the objects even in the dark, something like infra-red but more colour than green.

Another procession

As we returned to the open courtyard outside the palace, one long procession of religious relics, a guard of horse-riders, people in black and red hoods that could instil the terror of the inquisition, ladies in Spanish comb headdress looking almost too regal but definitely sophisticated - indeed, a Spain steeped in Roman Catholic rituals preserved in the formaldehyde of time - a sight to behold.

There is so much to do in Madrid, and we have hardly done anything, we sighted a cable car service (Teleférico) from the palace and went looking for the 2.5 kilometre ride the next day which was quite good - in all I have taken about 500 pictures, it is possible to suffer repetitive strain injury just clicking away with amateur paparazzi abandon?

Visit my Photo Album to see Madrid and Madrid Tour, I still need to give descriptions to most of the material and there are still about 400 pictures to upload.

Numbers on lifts and people

Which floor please? 13

You probably have heard it many times before; there usually is no 13^th Floor in hotels, well, you do need to be in such a building to see that for sure.

Basically, superstition and irrational thinking is the not the exclusive reserve of uncivilized Barbarians or savages in the deep jungles of some faraway land, ever-present in the hub of the lands of liberty, freedom and godlessness, builders would not deign to number a floor 13.

In fact, One Canada Square, one of the somewhat imposing business offices in London does have a thirteenth floor, but it is uninhabited, rather it contains only air-conditioning equipment.

Well, I happen to be lodged on the 14^th Floor of the Novotel Hotel beside the British Library and there is no 13^th Floor. Oops! I let the cat out of the bag, I'm in London till tomorrow.

One of the lifts at Novotel Euston

Numbered people

This use of numbers also applies to another interesting but disturbing scenario; the Time Magazine takes us on a journey through a counter-insurgency raid just outside Baghdad where they had once cleared out insurgents but failed to keep free.

It transpires that they divided the village into numbered sectors and then issued a curfew or clampdown on the village; however, after they had written the sector numbers on the backhands of the women and the back of the necks of the men.

One would suppose this came out of the doctoral thesis of General Dr. David Petraeus on counter-insurgency measures.

The pictures did show distress amongst the family depicted, though, they sensibly did not append the numbers to the ladies necks because that would have involved undressing them by taking off their scarves. The indignity of it all was still evident.

History returning nicely

It is probably essential and expedient to ensure that none of the villagers are caught in other sectors of the town when there is a clampdown.

The writing is probably in indelible ink which would wash off, if the water supply is there in a few days since it would have been an overkill to hire Halliburton to tattoo the numbers on the people.

One cannot help but realize that numbers were part of the game in Holocaust Germany, the victims can still show you the number identifiers - amazing how history just creeps up on you without warning and because this is the War on Terror, it is not the same, only very different; thus, will go the argument.