Back from the political trenches (1)

I am mighty glad to announce that after months of absence, my column Cutting Edge is now back. This is a column through which I share a conversation with readers across the country on contemporary issues political, economic, diplomatic and international relations and the like.

I had to rest it because of my decision to join the political fray to contest the southern Taraba Senatorial seat in my native Taraba State under the Peoples Redemption Party (PRP). Importantly too for professional and ethical reasons having joined the partisan political fray, it was necessary step aside so as not to open up the Media Trust Group, owners and publishers of this very paper to charges of encouraging and abetting political partisanship.

Although some issues of my political odyssey are still under review at a different level, that will not however weigh much on my resuming this column for which I am grateful to the Media Trust Group.

In my absence a lot of my readers had called to wish me success in my political journey. But I vividly remember one particular regular reader of mine, a highly influential personality who after greetings, said to me point blank “Iliyasu, this is not your turf. You are not cut out for this. Nigerian politics is not for your likes. You do not come across as the rough house type which many Nigerian politicians are. I would prefer you writing about it which you do so eloquently and brilliantly every week, than being directly involved in it.’’

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Now how about that for encouragement!

If you were gung-ho about being involved in a cause no matter the odds as I was, you certainly won’t feel encouraged hearing such matter-of-fact statement about your political intentions. But knowing that the senior person who made such a candid, brutally frank statement intended it as tough love, I really saw no need to make issues with him on this.

And when fortuitously, my political journey got pear-shaped, needless to say, he was among the first of my numerous readers across the country including those who had wished me well (perhaps tongue in cheek at the time) who after greetings and commiserations were like “Toh! Distinguished (imagine that), when are you going to resume your column? We would like to read all about your experiences on the campaign trail. Please oblige us’’.

So, in the course of the following weeks beginning from today, I will be sharing anecdotal information of my experiences on the hustings with readers on this column in a warts and all manner.

1. In politics walking the talk is not necessarily a walk in the park: In my last comment before I rested this column, I tried to justify my entry into politics as a need to walk the talk.

From the vantage position of a commentator on politics (armchair politician some would brutally say), you have the liberty and luxury to magisterially construct and deconstruct politics and the behaviour of politicians ex-cathedra as you so wish. But when you cross the dividing line of commenting on politics into the real deal, then be prepared political shocks that can be decidedly malignant. As I found out, why it is often said that politics is just not for the faint-hearted is because it is the nexus for the exhibition of the entire base human instincts that dwelleth in every man and woman involved in it. And politics as a contest for power and influence which is the ultimate struggle among individuals is governed by its own rules which may not necessarily be moral, genteel and straightforward. As I found out to my chagrin, you must be prepared for betrayal, forked tongues, intrigues, elbows both literarily and figuratively among all varieties of skulduggery to make it in politics. Forget about the often-sanctimonious posturing of bleeding-heart do-gooders, this is a given.  As I was not and had not previously been tutored in the dark arts of politics, I found potential voters and my well-heeled and tutored opponents sneering at me with disguised sarcastic and sneering looks that said and meant ‘’what’s this guy doing here? Is he serious? He is a joker’’.

2. Money, Money, Money, must be funny in a politician’s world. In politics, you are quite literarily dead without money. Nigerian politics most especially is not meant for a person with short arms and deep pockets. Even for a moderate, modest party which I belonged, one cannot but set aside a reasonable amount of money for sundry issues like nomination forms, photocopying, logistics, secretarial and ever-recurring miscellaneous expenses. This is just at the initial stage. And these expenses necessarily escalate from the elective position sought.

In my own case seeking the position of Senator I was considered as someone whose means are above the average Nigerian and hence must be loaded with the stuff. Indeed, many considered my plea as belonging to a modest party as the PRP as a ploy to avoid spending money as is required of Nigerian politicians. “He worked with the Nigerian LNG one of the top multi-national companies in Nigeria and before that as a diplomat in the Nigerian foreign service travelling around the world. He must be a billionaire or at least a millionaire. And for him to seek to join politics, he must be well-prepared money wise and he must have friends in the oil and gas sector as well as internationally who will bankroll (no pun intended) his expenses’’; words to that effect about me filtered to me from my close political associates.

But whereas my modest funds were from my own pocket and those who believed in me and my cause, my main opponents, however, did not have to labour under such encumbrances. Unlike me, they had a huge war chest of mainly public funds and contributions from contractors who considered the political campaigns of their principals as a sort of gravy train in anticipation of reaping copiously from their investment.

On that score as a minnow, I had to keep my expenses not just to a modest level but also to ensure that I got the most from my spending. Where an opponent was talking about giving out packets of Maggi cubes, bags of rice along with money for wives and womenfolk to cook for their husbands, I was on the other hand left with mere exhortations and distributing pieces of soap, detergents and small packs of granulated grains.

Again, where my opponents deployed scores of government-owned vehicles fuelled by public funds, I had to make do with a couple of hired ten-seater vehicles without siren-blaring pilot vehicles and outriders, armed escorts and the complimentary assortment of armed drug-drenched thugs.