Oh boy, oh boy whilst we are still on the subject of the critical nexus between economic development and societal peace and harmony, it is meet to draw attention to some ancient palavers in this same land. Institutional memory is not one of the strengths of contemporary Nigeria. Memory is so often badly short-circuited by the trauma of unrelenting tragedy that it is often better not to remember. It is a strategy of survival and containment of adversity.
Does anybody still remember Mrs Felecia Folayegbe Akintunde-Ighodalo? And we are not talking of her exploits as the first female permanent secretary in the history of the country or as a fiery pen-pusher and unrelenting campaigner for female rights. The Oke-Igbo born icon was also an amazon of the bureaucratic barricades, giving as much as she got from obstreperous and chauvinistic male colleagues. The lady was not for turning at all, as Margaret Thatcher, the Oxford-trained chemist and daughter of a Methodist alderman, would scream at her hen-pecked Conservative Party henchmen.
But that is not why we recall the great matriarch. Even in the halcyon days of the First Republic, austerity was not a stranger to this land. The great Highlife musicians of the period bemoaned the harsh measures which they admitted spared neither the poor nor the rich alike. It was a benign and benevolent lament which hinted of a healthy respect for government in its wisdom, credibility and moral authority.
In another period, austerity measures were greeted by public cynicism and increasing dismay. Cast your mind back to fifty years ago or thereabouts when the country was in the grip of another crisis of scarcity and a harsh economic climate. So concerning was the situation and so concerned were the authorities that the Government of Western Nigeria swiftly inaugurated a Price Control Board to check the activities of profiteers, rentiers and middlemen or middlewomen alike. It was headed by no less a person than the Iron Lady, Fola Ighodalo herself, a crack economist and mathematician of repute.
It was the personal and most private dimension of this development that yours sincerely found most hilarious and heartrending at the same time. At that point in time, many of us, holiday makers with a sense of foolish entitlement, ungrateful and ungracious wretches some of who were absconding refugees from the wetie conflagration, often converged on the house of an uncle, a teacher of modest means, to feast on their food and meager munificence.
While the man of the house was diffident, lenient and most tolerant of our pranks, the lady of the house was having none of that nonsense making sure there was a stringent control of the outflow of foodstuff from the pantry and a diligent postprandial check. Behind her back and away from ear shots, we quickly christened the poor woman as Madam Ighodalo. Anytime the name was whispered amidst some domestic heist, everybody scampered for safety
More than half a century after, it seems some sort of price control and regulatory mechanism for reining in market forces are back with some vengeance. Madam Ighodalo has returned in full force and vigour. The federal authorities hinted that its importation of food items will be backed by some price control measures. Market forces will no longer be allowed to reign supreme. In the old western region, some traditional rulers have moved ahead with punitively proactive measures.
This is the institution closest to the heartbeat of the people and where the pains and pangs of hunger are felt most. In addition to placing a curse on all cartels and shadowy associations driving up the price of basic foodstuff, the Ooni of Ife has outlawed such gatherings vowing that prompt banishment from his domain would follow any contravention. Another topnotch traditional ruler in the state has threatened to invade the main market to dislodge the evil market forces hoarding food.
There can be no doubt that the heart of these rulers are in the right place. While the activities of profiteers and evil cartels are to be condemned, elementary economic logic suggests that you can only hoard what is not available in sufficient quantity. The price of an item is determined by its availability. The forces of abundance, of irreversible plenitude, are sovereign over any other market force. If our traditional rulers are able to place a train-load of farm produce at strategic point every market day, the exorbitant prices will drop dramatically.
The crisis of economic modernity is upon us in the agricultural sector. As the name implies, subsistence farming can only end in subsistence consumption. Savage scarcity must occur when the logic of subsistence farming is driven to arbitrate in the dynamics of mass production. The solution is large scale industrial farming and the provision of adequate storage facilities. This is why Ukraine is still able to feed itself and export food despite a crippling war.
As a stop-gap measure and the activities of kidnappers and local rustlers permitting, our traditional rulers should initiate a return to farm revolution in their domain in which every available space is utilized for farming by the hordes of youths roaming aimlessly about in Yoruba cities. On a visit to Jos in the last fortnight, one was pleasantly surprised that the entire thirty something kilometre from the airport to the Third Division Headquarters was draped and festooned in lush maize farms. This is the way to go rather than issuing quixotic threats of banishment which can only impair communal relations. God bless our traditional rulers and the spirit of Fola Ighodalo.
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