Boycott British Airways

Oh! Golly Gosh!

The British Airways (BA) have not only gotten their knickers in a twist, the buffoons have had their shoe laces tied together at the start of every race they have entered that they fall splat when the starting orders are given.

Being British, I think I have flown that airline only once and never returned, the service between the UK and West Africa is quite lucrative for BA because the choices leave people paying well over the odds for outrageous service and maximum discomfort from the most uncouth that can be found of the most dreadful crew in that organisation.

The story I read through blogs posted by Funmi Iyanda and Chxta which is spreading disgust but not fast enough to get BA to come to its senses leaves me incandescent with rage.

Disrespect of customers

The Mirror newspaper carried the news and I could very well see myself in the shoes and place of the person that has suffered the most from the incident.

The first issue is the utter disrespect that a commercial airline has for its paying customers that they would allow possibly unstable and seriously distressed customers on the plane where security and restraint can in some ways be used in excess.

A deportee was brought on the flight and under the “gentle” handling of law enforcement that the man was screaming words to the effect that he was going to die.

Wherever, I might have been on that plane after a while of hearing that, I would have gotten out of my seat to find out what was going on, that is what Ayodeji Omotade did – someone who in my view had not allowed the overwhelming indifference of society to inure him to the suffering of others. (His ordeal in his own words appears here.)

Deportees and sadder memories

Many Nigerians would be aware of a case last year where another distressed deportee (Osamuyia Aikpitanhi) had a bag put over his head that he died in Spain – it would have been a basic reflexive thing to have said, “Please, don’t kill him”, just as he could have said, “Please, be careful”, which would have meant the same thing but implying the first statement.

The ever so “friendly” crew buffeted him saying the police were doing what was their job where they should have been working hard to stop other passengers from getting just as distressed as the non-paying deportee.

Maybe transporting deportees is a more lucrative business for BA; I sure do not want to share a plane with someone who has been put on the plane under duress.

In fact, if there are so many deportees to be returned to a country, why do the immigration authorities not arrange a “Gitmo” style plane to take them back to their countries? Though, I think that would garner the worst kind publicity for them – but if they cannot find ways to handle deportees more humanely, they would just have to remain where they are.

Distress and injustice

The deportee was taken off the flight, and then they came for Ayodeji Omotade who they thought was a disrupting influence and the police gave him hell, it is completely unacceptable – he should be talking to his Member of Parliament (Jonathan Shaw) forthwith – that would go to the heart of the matter quickly.

The pilot seeing that there would be an insurrection for this victimisation of the innocent, something they have gotten away with for ages but not this time, then ordered all Nigerians off the plane – 136 of them – that is his prerogative.

As usual, the “spineless” onlookers from other nations had now been terrorised enough not to get involved just in case they are slapped with some ridiculous charge – considering they might already have been psychologically damaged by what they had observed before – but BA does not care a jot about customers going to West Africa, no pleasantries just aggravation.

Blunders A-plenty

Then BA gets its quarry, the lucrative deportee back on the plane, with 136 empty seats it flies off to Nigeria with a statement that a large number of passengers became disruptive and that they take any threats against their crew or passengers very seriously and this kind of behaviour will not be tolerated.

If BA cannot realise that devaluing the quality of travel of their customers and creating distress by bringing on the flight a seriously distressed passenger would create that kind of situation, they are their own worst enemy.

British Airways has form in not knowing how to do good customer service or business that works; from their run in with Richard Branson in the dirty tricks saga where they thought Sir Richard was insignificant and he then took them to the cleaners.

Their ethnic tailfin designs got the greatest putdown from Baroness Thatcher when she put her handkerchief over the awful designs that replaced the British flag, they also got caught out in a fuel surcharge cartel Sir Richard shopping them to the authorities again and now Terminal 5 is taking BA to its terminal decline – this one with Nigerians should be the very last straw.

BA has nothing to make the British proud of and in all is an utter global disgrace, a change in management could not be called for too soon already, that organisation is an organic and malignant disaster.

Boycott BA

Ayodeji Omotade has now been banned from travelling by BA, this man is not Naomi Campbell by any stretch of the imagination – in my view, anyone who has any affiliation with Nigeria should boycott that organisation altogether – fly anything but BA.

I do not know if we have an Ambassador in the UK who speaks up for Nigerians, by Mr. Omotade is also British so his Member of Parliament would suffice in his case, but in the case of others somebody must be up for them.

There is a petition on this matter called Nigerians boycott British Airways for this outrageous treatment of Nigerians, please sign in and voice your protest. Please register your protest with an identity and possibly a comment, anonymous protests do not carry that much weight.

Olympic torch lights up Tibetan cause

Taken by the Dalai Lama

I have been thinking about a comment that Roosevelt the blog-owner of MoThanSkin left on my blog titled Snuff out that Olympic torch already.

“I agree with you, Akin, the Olympics have become much too politicized. But the truth of the matter is no nation is without some degree of human rights violations, America included!

The Dalai Lama and his Tibet government-in-exile is misleading the Free World as to his true objectives, which is to have the Peoples Republic of China give back to him and his fellow monks the centuries old feudalistic rule of the Dalai Lamas over the Tibetan people!

The Dalai Lama is not what he appears to be! To have the Dalai Lama rule over Tibet is not freedom or democracy! China is being unfairly judged by the Free World when it comes to Tibet, in my opinion!”

Somewhere in between

I am not too sure that I subscribe entirely to the view of the Dalai Lama being the covert instigator of unrest in Tibet much I do not believe that China has much to offer Tibet apart from the suppression of their culture and the emasculation of the people.

Probably, the truth is somewhere in between, the fact that Tibetans are religious people who have allegiance towards the Dalai Lama and the other fact that China invaded and forcefully occupied from 1950.

There is no doubt that Tibet has had a vibrant, turbulent and in some ways violent past, but they are still a people with an identity and a yearning for a form of nationhood.

A determined China

An article on Reuters.com opines that China has trouble reading Tibet’s pulse, Tibetans still revere their god-king in the person of the Dalai Lama where the Chinese had expected them to revile their former rulers to whom they were in obeisance in feudal serfdom.

The journey of the Olympic torch around the world has given the focus to human rights issues in China rather than the harmony of global sport in the spirit of the Olympics, once docile administrators and custodians of the tarnished Olympic brand have now had to speak up.

In some cases, the dogged determination of China to continue the torch relay regardless and their forceful desire to defile Mount Everest and run the torch through Tibet almost makes it appear as if they are impervious to any criticism.

Naivety par excellence

In the end, if China really thought they could pull off the Olympics with scant regard to all other issues on the basis of taking politics out of the Olympics and sport in general, they have displayed a level of amazing arrogance and sheer ignorance being propped up by the hubris of might and untrammelled remit to mess people up big-time within China – surely, feelings would have been aroused in an Olympic year and they have not been so politically astute but outrageously naïve to the extreme, it beggars belief.

If at the end of the day the Dalai Lama is the secret puppet master behind all this unrest around aspirations of Tibet, well, there could not have been a better occasion to get maximum publicity for Tibetan issues than at this time, for which I can only commend him for the genius of timing and execution.

As to where I standard on this matter, it would appear the Tibetans need neither a communist state nor a Western democracy over them, rather they want the Dalai Lama as their leader.

Before we get all funny about this, the Vatican is both religious and political with the head of both structures being the Pope – why should Tibet be different, feudal or not?

The changing ceremonies of death

The modern funeral

Having not attended a funeral for 31 years, I never knew what to expect of a church service or the committal at the crematorium.

I soon found out that coffins do not get hoisted on the shoulders anymore; a special trolley/gurney was used to take the deceased to the altar.

Powderhouse Crematorium

After the church service we drove to the crematorium in a funeral cortège a few miles to the other end of town where my warped imagination could not help but notice the crematorium was on Powderhouse Lane, I would not have believed it if I had not seen it.

My fellow passengers in the car did not catch on to my thinking until later, it was just slightly less direct from being Ash Road, but the powder of the ash was what got me – one almost expected John Cleese to jump out from behind a tombstone but the solemnity of the occasion bored down that set of silly thoughts.

To earth or to ashes

I had never been to a crematorium and recently whilst chatting to a Dutch funeral director he opined that more people prefer to be buried than be cremated because they want a place for a memorial.

Whilst a crematorium and its grounds can offer places for remembrance and contemplation for loved ones, it looked like a poor imitation of the traditional cemetery – some innovation like remembrance walls and so on just looked so different.

The suddenness of ceremony

I also felt that a crematorium does not lend itself fully to the ceremony of ashes-to-ashes and dust-to-dust where everyone completely breaks down, the deepest emotions was probably at the eulogy where my pocket square absorbed secretions from my tear ducts.

I also learnt that wake-keeping ceremonies were more an Irish think than English, some even end with drinks and fights, I have never really understood the Nigerian version where the children stay up all night – it is stressful enough grieving for the dead.

We were part of a conveyor belt of commercial activity and so soon after the curtains closed we were ushered out to see the family flowers and commiserate with the family – like a doctor’s surgery, the NEXT sign must have lit up for those after and this was to go on till dusk.

We later retired to the village pub for drinks and some food, it was there after I had expressed my views about a crematorium on Powderhouse Lane that I was told the name of the funeral director is Mr. Cook.

Surely, someone was pulling my leg, but the truth is always just what it is – sometimes incredible.

A flying visit to Lancaster

Things to do in Lancaster

I was in Lancaster for the weekend to honour a remarkable woman who passed away last week at 92.

It was what you might call a flying visit, into Manchester on Sunday morning and well, I did not know a cab ride to Lancaster would have traversed 100 miles – anyway, it was all well arranged, one can no more rely on the jumbled railway system that charges rip-off prices to travel by bus in the United Kingdom nowadays.

My hotel was the Premier Inn, a group of budget hotels that offer the minimalist and no more – I cannot remember when last I stayed in a hotel room without a phone, wireless connectivity is more or less standard for the dog-house – there were no viable choices.

A hotel that has Lenny Henry as their big advertising face could well have funny deals but not ones one would call sophisticated – however, they would appeal to a certain clientele.

Lancaster is an old city and it is quite provincial too, for most of the 90s I spent Christmas with a family that could well be my family in Europe in a village (Brookhouse) where you could point to the cow that produced the milk and name the chicken that laid the eggs.

Thoughts and realities

However, considering the occasion, alternative arrangements had to be made as I ventured to the “restaurant” Cottams Field Restaurant attached to the hotel.

My thinking did not connect with the possibilities – I was in a restaurant and had to order at the bar, then I was offered the opportunity to pay immediately – that struck fear in me.

I had ordered a Sunday roast; lamb being the meat of the dish, thinking of good old England and the sheep in the fields not too far away – this after I had had to ask if both my drinks and food would be brought to my table.

When my drinks arrived, none were poured as one would expect in a “restaurant”, I was beginning to think, what I am doing here.

Meanwhile, the locals just got into the flow, if you have never had good service, you will never bother about bad service.

Toughening the meats

The Sunday roast arrived, my lamb without mint sauce, I could live with that, but by the time I put my fork on the lamb and could hardly dent it and my knife could hardly cut it, I could have put my shoes in my plate and had more tender leather to chew.

I put my fork and knife aside and began to gobble down my drinks when the barman came round to ask if everything was fine, I mumbled something about the lamb being really tough – I politely refused another offering of lamb hide or the choice of deserts as I promptly made for the door.

If I though all would be well at breakfast, the sausages were no doubt annealed – it must be a new cooking technique in that kitchen.

Later on Sunday, I did have a real home-made roast and my lamb was just as tender as one should have it.

Snuff out that Olympic torch already

Non-political Olympics

I can only wonder how long we can continue to delude ourselves into thinking the Olympics has no political connotations.

I would acquiesce to that feeling only when representation at the Olympics moves on from geo-political entities called countries or nations and allows for independent participation. Let a world-citizen complete without having to be affiliated to some country and let the best sportsman win regardless.

Press-ganged by China

I have no problems with China hosting the Olympics in Beijing but that honour comes with global scrutiny which cannot be caged in some restraint of protest because of discomfort.

It is amazing that we find European countries being forced into uncomfortable and embarrassing authoritarian police action all to appease China whilst China tries to manage the propaganda at home by demonising any dissent.

Berlin to Beijing

The parallels; the showcasing of the 1936 Berlin Olympics under the Nazis who were announcing the arrival of Germany on the world stage and the 2008 Beijing Olympics announcing the arrival of Communist China on the world stage leaves us without much scope for irony because the reality is as stark as we all can see.

The Chinese have great national pride just as the Germans under Nazi occupation but they have none of the great liberal freedoms that we in the West take for granted and that allows them to condone other unpalatable regimes around the world for the reason that they term certain matters internal even though the issues affect humanity and the human race - global review can no more condone this kind of oppression.

The matter of the Olympic torch relay is interesting because it owes its progeny to the Nazis in 1936, why we need to have the torch tour countries other than the penultimate host, Greece and the host country, escapes me – it is as political as you can make the sport without owning up to the fact that it is political.

Politics in sport in politics

Politicians and sportspersons with political leverage in some ways would handle that dreadful torch and send all sorts of messages to the whole world.

I sympathise with the fact that sportspersons look for the ultimate accolade and challenge at the Olympics, nowhere is national pride so displayed for a global audience as the Olympics, the football World Cup does not come close with just 32 countries.

I am not advocating a boycott, but there has to be a message sent out to all well-meaning people and those who think they can through propaganda silence the yearnings and aspirations of their people need the force of humanity at a gathering such as the Olympics to highlight the plight of the oppressed and have something constructively done about it.

For glory or honour

We should not in the quest for Olympic glory forget that there is an honourable duty to perform on behalf of the oppressed, the suppressed and the disenfranchised.

If we cannot bring into our sportsmanship that quality of moral outrage in support of those who have been so battered by governments they did not chose, who rule over them with an iron fist but have no legitimacy with their constituency – then it is time to snuff out that Olympic flame forthwith and send the wet and watered wick back to Beijing.

Another dreadful in-flight toddler

Crying from heights

What have I, what have I, what have I done to deserve to deserve this? (Lyrics)

Second time already, I get on the plane with a well-heeled family that takes a row or two of premium priced seats only for me to suffer the squealing, bawling and crying of some distressed toddler.

On the way to Berlin a few weeks ago, I suspected the parents needed more than just a manual on child succouring and then I realised the child might have been seriously distressed because of the pressurisation of cabins when at cruising height.

Some smarter parents advised the child be given a dummy, the sucking action might then equalise the pressure in the inner ear and hence pacify the baby enough to make it quiet.

Methinks the cabin crew should have additional instructions on how to manage babies and toddlers.

Once again

I could not believe my luck again with my short trip to Manchester when the baby was strapped into a FAA-certified baby seat behind me such that I could not recline and the 15 minutes into the flight, the banshee was let loose and could not be contained.

My ears were assaulted with the cacophony much as my back bore the brunt of a restless toddler kicking out at the back of my seat.

Not having kids of my own and having paid rip-off prices for what is just a jumped up Economy Class seat masquerading as Business Class – that is what you get with AirFrance-KLM I was within my rights either to remonstrate to the parents or the air steward to sort this nonsense out.

We endured about 30 minutes of this noise till the toddler grew too tired that it could hardly whimper and it fell asleep.

Just cooler than freezing

Just as I wondered how I’m gonna get through we approached Manchester all the hills from West Yorkshire white-out with snow and frost – I could have been North of the Arctic Circle as the captain told us the good news that the temperature was no more -2 Celsius but now a higher -1 Celcius – and it is April – makes you wonder about global warming.

Next time I get on a plane, I would be as ready as a Pet Shop Boy – a muzzle to shut the runts up or better still a good horse tranquiliser to keep the whole family comatose for the whole flight.

What have I done to deserve this?

Zimbabwe: Mugabe's epitaph by a little girl

Be gone and done

The slow death of Mugabe's regime as it grasps at battered reeds of a hope that had long been extinguished by the suffering of his people leaves us exhausted.

The life of his government ebbs away having been dealt the blow of a cardiac arrest in losing his majority in the Zimbabwean parliament, to an opposition that has been tested – not by slavery, not by liberation struggle, not by apartheid but by fellow black countrymen drunk to excess with power – and it is now ready to take the tattered mantle, maybe to a place of new beginnings - Godspeed.

Give us the president

The population of Zimbabwe does not number infinity, the count must end one day and the result will be known.

Woe betide they who give respite to the beast that ate the people for breakfast, took away everything that made the people a proud and honourable people and spat them out at dusk as all that once had worth became cheaper than the sand in the desert.

The defibrillator shall roast the heart to cinder because every good deed that might have been worthy of thanks a generation ago has been wiped out many times over by the longsuffering resolve of a people who would not endure slavery anymore under the iron hand of any man no matter the colour.

Tell the men to make the coffin of the wood of townships destroyed and by the time the last gasp leaves the beast, secure him to eternal repose with 9-inch nails and not a few.

Zimbabwe’s plight is Africa’s shame

As we begin to rejoice at the end of the suffering of Zimbabwe and it must be very soon - the shame of Africa is laid bare, not one has been a brother's helper in ending this travesty.

The people of Zimbabwe took their destiny in their own hands and called a stop to their bondage.

They will owe no man their freedom because they voted the man out with their blood, their suffering and their vote, for which they deserve all commendation, praise and support.

We amongst ourselves most evil

Let it be known that it was the black man who took away the hopes and aspirations of the fellow black man.

It was the black man, his cohorts and minions that bloodied their fellow countrymen.

And it was fellow black leaders that gave succour to the reprehensible, the atrocious, the unacceptable and the downright outrageous.

Zimbabwe's friends in their quest for real self-determination were not in Africa, they were further away but kept faith for their deliverance.

Let the past begin

As a new dawn breaks we congregate at the death-bed of the beast, any time soon, should come the last gasp, the padre with the stake awaits the moment to make dead certain dead sure.

Line the grave with lead and seal it with concrete and let it be sunk in the rough of the deepest seas.

No remembrance should be made of the beast for the past ends when the stake was driven in.

After all said and done, the little girl of hardly 10 said. “He was a very bad man”.

She could have won the Pulitzer prize with that one line.