Tambuwal: Seizing the Yobe moment Jonathan ignored

I had gone to the public gallery to watch proceedings with the appearance of the Minister of Petroleum Resources and her team before the House Budget Committee. It was while already in the premises that I learned that the House was resuming from break that day and had indeed declared the day a Day of […]

I had gone to the public gallery to watch proceedings with the appearance of the Minister of Petroleum Resources and her team before the House Budget Committee. It was while already in the premises that I learned that the House was resuming from break that day and had indeed declared the day a Day of Mourning in honour of the Boko Haram massacre of students at Federal Government College Bunu Yadi in late February.
Initially, I wondered whether the Senate would think of making even such a symbolic gesture. I wondered, not for the first time, how it is that the House of Reps always tends to identify with the issues of the ordinary Nigerian far more readily than the Senate. I remember wondering if perhaps this had something to do with the respective leadership of the two Chambers. House Speaker Aminu Tambuwal has consistently shown himself to be a man with his finger on the pulse of the people. I was soon to find out.
That morning, unbe-knownst to me as I took my seat high up in the gallery of the House chamber, Speaker Tambuwal was about to give a great speech, as it was characterized by a clearly emotion-overwhelmed man sitting next to me in the gallery. Addressing his colleagues on the mindless massacre of innocent students and on the general insecurity across the nation, the Speaker gave a speech that would move a heart of stone. I was not surprised to notice that a good number of the Honourable members, especially the female members, were sobbing quietly. It was not just one factor that made Tambuwal’s speech a huge success. It was a combination of factors: the timing, the content the tone, all pitch perfect.
But for me, from the beginning of the speech to the end, it was Tambuwal’s demeanour that caught my attention. He looked like a man in great pain. He came across, to me at least, as not merely narrating other people’s pain but also addressing his own anguish. He did not stand before Nigerians as a neutral, mercenary spiritual warrior stepping forward to combat and exorcise demons that are tormenting other people. Rather he came across as a man for whom the fight is personal; a man wrestling with demons tormenting him just as mercilessly as they are tormenting his people. He did not sit there mouthing mere platitudes. Rather he channelled the raw emotions of a whole nation. And, even more importantly, he channelled the raw emotions in his own soul.
Tambuwal descended with Nigerians into the depths of their grief, and then lifted them up again onto a higher ground from where he invited them to look into the horizon and see in their not-too-distant distant future the glimmers of a normal life of peace. He took Nigerians into the besieged hostels of the school at Bunu Yadi and forced us to witness with our own eyes the horror that transpired that night. After showing us the horror, and acknowledging our justifiable despondency, he reassured us that there is light at the end of the dark tunnel. However, he made it clear that to reach that light, all Nigerians must work together to clear the debris that make further progress along the tunnel possible. He urged us to focus on what is best in us as a nation while inviting us to turn our backs on what is worst in us.
The speech he gave that morning is the sort of speech that Nigerians are hungry to hear every time they confront afresh the recurrent nightmare of terrorism. It is the sort of speech the leaders of a nation should give to their people whenever they find themselves swimming against the fast flowing tides of despair. Specifically, it is the sort of speech citizens of any nation expect and deserve to hear from one leader in particular: the President of their nation. Unfortunately, the Tambuwal Speech is a speech Nigerians have never heard from their own President. It is the sort of speech President Goodluck Jonathan has never given to Nigerians despite the torrents of Nigerian blood that have seeped into the soil during the Jonathan presidency.
More disturbingly, one suspects that the Tambuwal Speech is not only the kind that Jonathan has never given, but whether indeed it is one that Jonathan is capable of giving. Does he have it in him? President Jonathan has missed several opportunities to give one great speech that aggregates the feelings of the 160 million people he governs. He often appears incapable of conveying solemnity, even in the most solemn occasions. He seems to lack the acumen to tap into and channel the raw emotions of his people towards the building of a more cohesive nation.
President Jonathan has never really come across as truly cognizant of the trauma Nigerians have suffered as a result of Boko Haram terrorism and other violent manifestations of deep national malaise. How could he when the people around him are more concerned with telling Nigerians who and who said they would make Nigeria ungovernable for President Jonathan? The result is that whenever the president gives another one of those banal speeches, many Nigerians yawn, convinced that they have heard before whatever he had to say.
In contrast, I felt Tambu-wal’s pulsating heartbeat in that great speech of his.
As I descended from the gallery of the House of Reps afterwards, my one regret was that Speaker Tambuwal’s blockbuster speech had been restricted to the chamber of the House he leads. I was convinced the speech deserved a wider audience. It deserved to be presented to Nigerians in a national broadcast. A speech like that is one that Nigerians deserve to hear directly from the mouth of their leaders. Such a speech would go some way to restore the faith of Nigerians in the ability of their leaders to feel their pain and identify with their aspirations.

Nwoko wrote from Asokoro, Abuja