I remember the first time I needed to buy new tyres for my car in the UK. One of the tyres had gone flat, and it soon became clear that it was not something that could be solved merely by adjusting the tyre pressure. It had to be changed, and on I went to the tyre dealer. I provided details about the car and the specifications of the tyre. I then asked for the price, ready to get the tyre and go. The guy looked at me with a chuckle, incredulous. We can’t sell the tyre to you like that, he said, still trying to contain his bewilderment: "You have to bring the car, and we will check and fit the tyre for you." This also reminds me of the first time I bought a TV set in here. It was at an ASDA Superstore, and I was bemused when the salesperson insisted I must provide my home address, and evidence of same, before they can allow me to pay for the TV. I understood later that the home address demand was for the purpose of TV license and the fee that must be paid by all households owning Television. It was a criminal offense to default, and you could be jailed for it. The corollary of this, of course, is that the government effectively know how many households have TV in their home. Ordinary TV.
Now why am I sharing these? On Tuesday 16th January, Ibadan, one of Africa's largest cities was rocked by a major explosion that flattened many buildings, and, with the last count, left five persons dead and 77 others injured in its wake. The governor of Oyo State, for which Ibadan is the capital city, later held a press briefing where he noted that the explosion was caused by dynamites held in private apartment by some "foreign" miners. Speculations are rife about who these "foreigners" are, and it is a pertinent question to which I will return in a moment.
The first, and arguably most important, question in my view is: where did they get these "dynamites" from? Are dynamites stuffs you can just go to the market and buy, without any records or traces? What are the legal requirements and regulatory frameworks guiding supply, storage and use of dynamite? You now see why I began with the story of the car tyre. Ordinary car tyre! The dealers are under legal obligations and regulatory guidelines about the conditions under which they can sell tyres. It is the same with the TV sellers, because they are liable under the law. The idea underpinning this is not genius. It is quite simple, in fact.
As we mourn the dead and contemplate the loss of property running into billions of naira, it is important to draw the right lessons and take action. Of course, heads must also roll, but we must all now, as a society, be exercised by the question of "what happens next"? I am not one for impertinent nostalgia, but we need not look to the West for examples of systems and processes that work, even if they are imperfect. I remember growing up as a child, the fear of "Wolewole" (health and safety inspectors) was the beginning of wisdom. Wolewole was the appellation coined by locals and it literally means "going from house to house". These health and safety officers went from house to house and were not shy about wielding the big stick when it came to households with unhygienic surroundings and habits. I have not heard much of them in the past few decades. I wonder if they still exist.
The tragic case of the dynamite explosion is focusing minds about the state of affairs across our cities and towns in Southwest Nigeria and beyond. And this is arguably just a tip of the iceberg. If a "foreigner" can keep dynamites at home, in a high-end residential area of a major Nigerian city, just imagine what else can be kept in homes in the hinterland and across our smaller towns and villages. The impact of the exploding dynamites was felt far away from the epicentre, with reports of buildings shaking and glasses shattering miles away. We are sitting on the keg of gun powder, and if we fall back to sleep now that the roof is on fire, there should not be a surprise about what comes next.
Which brings me to the final point about the "un-named foreigners" that have now been heralded as the villains of the tragic dynamite incident. Our cities and towns are porous and vulnerable man-made disasters like what unfolded on Tuesday, and even worse. And we always knew our villages and forests have become high risk areas. Where then is safe? Or who then is safe? I know that the situation, and the prospect for effective action at the state level, is complicated and compromised by the heavily centralised structure of the Nigerian republic. But surely there are avenues for effective actions at the state level, including a proper census and mechanisms for tracking economic and industrial activities and actors in the states, and who is supplying what to who and for what. And is it not high time we brought the Wolewole, with an expanded scope of action beyond inspecting latrines and refuse dumps?
