Thought Picnic: Killing their people with incompetence

Nothing to hold my confidence

I have many views about how I think there is no upside to Brexit if at any time I thought the government of Boris Johnson had a tenth of the acumen, principles, competence, and/or the capacity of the coalition war cabinet of Winston Churchill, I might even consider they’ll pull off a useful EU deal.

Their response to the Coronavirus pandemic already shows they are completely incapable, the excuse that they did not know enough about the virus to act with alacrity, preparedness and purpose does not wash, because governments all around the world had the same access to the information we also had, New Zealand, South Korea, and Germany are good examples, even Scotland rejigged their response to contain it.

Killing their people with bluster

The difference is they took the information and acted on it, testing, detecting, isolating, locking down, monitoring, tracing, and informing truthfully. These are what others did without boasting and with a clear grasp of the realities they faced. The virus had no time for bullshit and there was no vacuous optimism that could take the place of effective action. It showed up Johnson, Trump, and Bolsonaro as windbags and their citizenry is paying for it with deaths that top the global tragedy of this pandemic.

Blog - It perished in a lake of tea

For all this, I was listening to a programme on BBC Radio 4 the other night when I heard the last few lines of a poem, haunting and dangerously fearful, I stirred from my slumber to look it up. Brian Bilston encapsulates the tragedy of our times, both on Brexit when he wrote it two years ago and now as we bungle a deal as much as we bungled the response to the Coronavirus. I am sorry, whilst I have no instant hope to give, I hope the only way is up from this rock bottom splatter at the bottom of the cliff. [BBC Magazine: Brian Bilson - 'How I accidentally became a poet through Twitter']

Hold my hand while we jump off this cliff

‘Let’s jump off this cliff – it’ll be fun! A right laugh!’
urged all the people (well, I mean just over half
of those who had bothered to speak up at all).
I peered down at the rocks; it was a long way to fall.

I said, ‘This cliff’s more than three hundred feet high
and my doctor tells me if I jump I will die.’
‘Cliff-jumping’s fine!’ they said. ‘Don’t trust doctors, trust us!
We read all about it on the side of a bus.’

Worried, I met up with my local MP.
I shared my concerns. He was forced to agree:
‘Why the rocks below would smash you to bits!
Where did you get this idea of jumping off cliffs?’

‘It was the will of some of the people,’ I said
and his expression changed to another instead.
‘I think,’ he revised, ‘you’re being melodramatic.
The problem is you. You’re undemocratic.’

On the clifftop, we waited. In silence we stood.
Then a voice: ‘Remind me, why is cliff-jumping good?’
But we looked down at our shoes, baffled and stumped.
Then, out of embarrassment, we held hands and jumped.

© Brian Bilston Hold my hand while we jump off this cliff

It perished in a lake of tea

Blandishing inexactitudes

Apparently, today marks the first-year anniversary of Boris Johnson assuming the role of Prime Minister of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland as well as being the First Lord of the Treasury, according to the formal titles as he became entered 10 Downing Street.

Obviously, he would trumpet his achievements, put a fine gloss on his incompetence, make excuses for the inexcusable, laud the profligacy of his government as prudent use of tax money, suggest the Brexit negotiations are working to plan, herald the Coronavirus pandemic response as world-beating, and with his remarkable sophistry work on many lies to make them true.

Death is not a celebration

What I know is that 45,808 UK citizens who could have celebrated with the Prime Minister are needlessly dead for whatever world-beating and considered actions his government took towards tackling the pandemic, we rose to the third country in the world with the highest number of deaths after the United States and Brazil. And of all the countries, we are seventh in the percentage of deaths compared to all tested 13.7 %. [Source: COVID19INFO.live]

There is nothing to celebrate if family, relation, neighbour, friend, acquaintance, colleague, or stranger cannot join in our national community to herald this landmark has died a slow, painful, lonely death mostly attributable to what their own elected government did or did not do. So, let’s park the clapping and begin to face the reckoning.

My sordid tennis ordeal

Then maybe I have something to celebrate, a fly evaded all means of capture, a bothersome insect bringing frustration of agility, focus and ability. For the purpose of netting a fly that I have been known never to hurt but to kill, I bought an electronic swatter and zapper shaped like a lawn tennis racket.

I was ambitious even though I knew I was never able to get a racquet to hit a moving ball when at 8, I was taking tennis lessons, for the simple reason that I had a lazy eye. It would have been easier for me to be blindfolded and then rely on my sense of hearing and feeling the airwaves created by the moving tennis ball to track and hit the ball. Then I thought I could hit a fly?

There’s a fly in my cold leftover tea

There was one occasion when just swinging the racquet without aiming at anything zapped an insect, but that was my only luck in 6 weeks. Then absentmindedly, forgetting to put my tea mug in the sink, it was left in the living room with a remnant of unfinished tea overnight. I woke up this morning ready to make a cup of tea for the start of my living at work day and there was a fly and very likely the fly in the cold tea.

Who would have thought cold tea was a flycatcher? I have seen no flies taunting me today and that is worth celebrating more than a year at 10 Downing Street for the simple reason that the man who occupies the place has no humanity or competence to take this nation to a good place in good or bad times. My opinion, you can have yours.

Thoughts I had today

I am on a journey,

The destination is unsure,
It is an interesting voyage,
On calm and stormy seas.

Laid down on a gurney,
In pain, I do endure,
Burdened with such tonnage,
Of life not all at ease.

Then on bended knee,
For love that is so pure,
And now we set the stage,
To do things as we please.

Navigating my blog

Percolating to view

Having written over 3,000 blogs in almost 17 years, I have found that some blogs might never get read except if they come up in searches made on the Internet or within the blog itself.

I know I have not done much to promote my blog except when I post links to blogs I have just written. It then occurred to me, to post a navigation aid to my blog. Like some visitors might wonder why I have two search boxes on the blog. The first displays basic results in the body of the blog with the full text of the blog, the second is an extended Google search that displays blog headers in standard Google fashion, but under the search button.

To get at some of the blogs that may rarely get read if a visitor chooses not to navigate the blog under the My Blog Archive, by Year and then by Month opening the outline, I have added a Random Post button. It is random and hopefully, it would open up my old blogs to a new readership. [These are only available on non-mobile rendering or web view/desktop modes.]

Navigation aids to my blog. (Click to enlarge.)

Languages and snippets

When I moved my blog to Google Blogger, I added language translation, selecting a few languages. This uses the Google Translate engine and besides the listed languages, you have the choice from a dropdown list of other languages, including Yoruba as shown in the example graphic.

You can read my blog in Yoruba using the Google Translate engine. (Click to enlarge.)

As you would be translating from English to another language, ensure you first click on the Original button to switch the text back to English before clicking on Translate or nothing will happen.

I also have some blogs of interest, my Twitter feed with the most recent tweets and a random display of pictures from my Flickr album of over 11,000 pictures.

Please enjoy the blog and if you will leave a comment.

Thank you.

Octogenarians fearing a future dominance of F1 by black drivers?

At the crossroads of equity

For much of my writing, whilst I have written about identity and the relative circumstances that confer privilege and opportunity towards my circumstances, I cannot say I have been an activist.

The surge in global protests and activism after the killing of George Floyd in Minneapolis, Minnesota, in May, has agitated people, institutions, companies, organisations, and personalities with sometimes soul-searching introspection instructing positive responses with the promise for change and confounded others with indifference and the absence of awareness as they suggest there is nothing amiss.

Memorials and symbols have been revisited for context and significance, highlighting the plight of minorities around the world with the clamour for equality, equity, justice and fairness.

In certain recent events, I have found a spectrum of representation that had me thinking of how minorities fit in and thrive in host communities, especially at work.

Choosing between activism and presence

In an interview with The Guardian, Michael Emenalo, 55, once the Technical Director for Chelsea Football Club, was the lone black senior executive in the English Premier League. Early in the interview, he surmised about his status and his projection of it. “I had to choose whether I would let my activism be a distraction or allow my presence to be an inspiration.”

[The Guardian: Michael Emenalo: ‘The narrative that white is good has to change’]

This is a concept I fully recognise and can relate to. I cannot say I was a flagbearer in certain positions that I have occupied in my career, but it was significant that other ethnic minorities seeing me in those roles found that their aspirations were not limited. More to the point, we cannot all be activists, sometimes just being at the top table is activism enough.

My primary function was not a human resource component of diversity and inclusion, but I represented it and gave light to opportunities those who saw me could pursue. My professional work spoke for itself even if there were times between being patronised and being belittled, you kept at what you do, and the end result proved how and why you were there.

When silence no more works

Then we have Lewis Hamilton, 35, of a much younger generation and a highly accomplished lone black man in Formula 1 who recently has been championing the need for Formula 1 to be more embracing and inclusive by opening up opportunities to those who might not see a pathway to a career in Formula 1.

His advocacy and activism are prominent whilst not distracting from his professional expertise where he currently leads the driver standings having been 6-time world champion. It goes without saying that few sportsmen have achieved his feat and dominance, not only in the UK but in the world. Yet, it is instructive that many others of lesser achievement and in other sports have been knighted whilst he remains an MBE.

This is not to conflate the global sport with British honours, but you wonder how much further his presence being an inspiration as in the case of Michael Emenalo needs to go for his activism to really attract more ethnic minorities to the sport.

Afflicting the comfortable

This is where two Caucasian veterans of Formula 1 appear to have been ruffled, but starting with Bernie Ecclestone, 89, who used to run Formula 1 when he said in June, "In lots of cases, black people are more racist than what white people are."

[BBC Sport: Lewis Hamilton says Bernie Ecclestone comments on race 'ignorant']

Even if Mr Ecclestone’s viewpoint was anecdotal, it was very unhelpful in addressing the issue of opening up Formula 1 to opportunities for ethnic minorities building up from gathering and scouting raw talent to nurturing them through apprenticeships, internships, and expertise acquisition schemes that would culminate in being able to compete on merit alone for openings in Formula 1.

Next came Mario Andretti, 80, in whose words you could see that Lewis Hamilton had begun to afflict the comfortable. They would rather he was silent than activist, with the hope that either organically or by happenstance the opportunities will just show, but Lewis Hamilton has been a Formula 1 driver since the 2007 season, that’s thirteen years and he remains alone.

“I have a lot of respect for Lewis, but why become a militant? He's always been accepted and he's earned everyone's respect.” Mario Andretti

The big problem they refuse to see

Sir Jackie Stewart, 81, then says he doesn’t think there is a problem. Well, I say, if after 13 years and 6 world championships, the figurehead ethnic minority symbol simply needs to double down on the accelerator of his car without highlighting issues within his sport, that would be unfortunate.

“He's quite vocal about these elements, I don't think there's as big a problem as there might seem.” Sir Jackie Stewart.

[Sky Sports: Lewis Hamilton responds to Mario Andretti, Sir Jackie Stewart comments: 'Just disappointing']

I am glad that Lewis Hamilton is not backing down to this trio of octogenarian symbols of white privilege laying out unforgivable tropes, because essentially, they are saying he should be grateful even though he is in his position by dint of hard work and great ability, and that he is being difficult as he is compelling his sport to radically review how it brings talent to the fore.

Then you have this niggling feeling that there is a foreboding and premonition haunting old white men, perish the thought that Formula 1 might become dominated by black drivers, they had better lament it now before a distant future invades the sanctity of their figurative Tutankhamun pyramids making them turn in their mummified graves.

I leave the last word to Lewis Hamilton from the BBC Sport article referenced earlier on this blog.

“It makes complete sense to me now that nothing was said or done to make our sport more diverse or to address the racial abuse I received throughout my career.

If someone who has run the sport for decades has such a lack of understanding of the deep-rooted issues we as black people deal with every day, how can we expect all the people who work under him to understand? It starts at the top.

Now the time has come for change. I will not stop pushing to create an inclusive future for our sport with equal opportunity for all. To create a world that provides equal opportunity for minorities.”

Thought Picnic: I rise with gifts to help

Knowledge is a resource

Sometimes I wonder what I would do if I had the resources that gave the opportunity and privilege, in have that, I realise that such comes with great responsibility in how the resources are used, to what ends, and to what purposes.

Indeed, I am fascinated by those who recognise that what they have should not be abused subscribing to a higher principle or cause that serves justice and humanity.

I will not pretend that I have acquired to that standard of altruistic contentment, the emperor of my entire and all that can be surveyed. It is no less something to strive to, not for self but for others in knowing what to do with what you have got. I am surprised how watching the mundane can elicit profound knowledge.

Wisdom is in servitude

I do not consider myself a leader or a mentor, yet, I find that I am thrust into situations where by perspective, experience, inclination or engagement, something is demanded of me to which I must rise rather than shrink. I do not delude myself into thinking I have the powers of persuasion, but I can paint pictures and scenarios, hoping to bring hearts, minds, resources and commitment to a side.

Blog - Thought Picnic: Considering the blessing of people in my life

That one does not have a burning passion to win at all cost, but to have done enough for options to be seen and decisions to be made gratifying, even if what I have done is create opposition rather than acquiescence. If anything, I have been honoured to influence and even if I had wished to be better resourced, I hope to have done anything I have done to the best of my ability.

Blog - Thought Picnic: Don't lose the honour of the opportunity to help

If fortitude should bless me with greater responsibility, if I have acquitted myself well with little, I cherish every moment I had to engage, if a mission calls, send me with the wisdom of life I have been given to live.

Nigeria: And the Oscar goes to Kemebradikumo Daniel Pondei

The art of the ill

I have watched the implausible incredulity of Nollywood, the Nigerian film industry version of Hollywood. The trite storylines of repetitive histrionics and melodrama that taxes your willing suspension of belief to the extreme. What people might not believe is how it is art that imitates life, that what you might term impossible or improbable in saner climes is everyday occurrence in Nigeria.

One such episode I could not ignore happened earlier today, when Prof Kemebradikumo Daniel Pondei, the acting Director-General of the Niger Delta Development Commission (NDDC) appeared before a Nigerian House of Assembly Committee to face questioning on his stewardship of the agency he heads.

Now, we are led to believe he might have been indisposed but against doctor’s orders honoured the invitation to appear. That is beside the point. The live feed to the event simply shows that under the assault of interrogation, the professor suddenly took ill.

NDDC Acting DG Prof Kemebradikumo Pondei appeared to have fainted during probe by House Committee pic.twitter.com/jwgRraiFG8

— BellaNaija (@bellanaija) July 20, 2020

First aid originality

He appeared stunted and slumped over the table before when heroic members of the House came to his aid if that is what you may call it after observation. I can find not medical terms for any of the actions taken. The tugging of his shoulders from behind was not anything like the Heimlich Manoeuvre, not that he was choking on anything that needed dislodging from his throat.

The person who approached him from the front, appeared to be contemplating with great hesitation whether he was going administer the kiss of life through mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, but he could have had all fingers in the professor’s mouth trying to prise it ajar.

Now, miraculously, the intervention, either of discomfort or palliative urging appears to have revived the professor who from what I observed was starry-eyed and lifting his arms as if to dislodge the hands from his suffering buccal cavity. The spontaneity of the intervention made for an engaging global audience with intrigue. The professor did not die. Hallelujah!

Feeble bandits on account

Which brings me to the thought of how many influential people caught in embezzlement, malfeasance, fraud or misappropriation fearlessly and unassailably aggrandise themselves with moneys in their care with impunity and reckless abandon, when brought to account appear to fail in heart and health with the suddenness of some divine affliction.

One would not suggest it is a ploy, but too many in times past have been given the benefit of the doubt and much latitude to request and obtain leave from the courts to seek medical attention abroad. That avenue is trammelled by the Coronavirus pandemic.

Yet, I would be remiss in the duty of acknowledgement and appreciation if Prof Kemebradikumo Daniel Pondei; and don’t twist your tongue on his first name, it flows with effortless ease off the tongue, is not considered for an outstanding prize for a live-action award of extraordinary artistic talent rarely seen in highly accomplished professional actors.

Professor Kemebradikumo Daniel Pondei of Nigeria, please, step forward for the honours. A standing ovation is deserved.