The Languages Here Are Bullying And Insult Not Customer Service And Respect, Get It Right

In my recent articles, I have
pointed out some of the ills
and disappointments of the
Nigerian society as a result of
failure of government.
Although the subject seems
to garner lots of positive
attention and had become
more enticing to write about,
I will like to excuse myself for
a second and talk about
something that had recently
become more personal. It is
the issue of quest and
exertion of power anywhere,
on anyone and at all cost.
This piece might rub some
readers the wrong way and if
you are among the
displeased critics, please bear
with me because I am not
sure how else to express the
pain and disgust I
experienced in my recent visit
to Nigeria to bury my father.
While it is comforting to point
fingers at the powers that be
for society’s misfortunes, it is
also equally important to
remind everyone that the
most dangerous virus that
currently plagues the
Nigerian society is the quest
for power; the thirst for the
exercise of power over
another human, dead or
alive. Almost everyone had
become a bully in some way
or another. The term power
intoxication has eroded every
aspect of the Nigerian
society, desensitized cultures
and religions and
dehumanized professionals,
resulting in the cliché “Do
you know who you are
talking to?” and the “Don’t
teach me my job” syndrome.
Everyone is overly important,
self righteous and conceded
at the detriment of others.
A couple of months ago, my
siblings and I received a call
that our father had taken
seriously ill. We advised our
youngest brother who had
been caring for him to rush
him to the hospital in Owerri
for immediate medical care.
Within minutes, they arrived
at the hospital, since our
house is within the hospital
neighborhood. However, the
timely arrival did not make
any difference for the cardiac
patient at a Federal Medical
Center that did not have
room nor oxygen tanks for
such emergencies. So we
decided to take him to a
private hospital operated by a
so called “Most experienced
cardiologist” in town; a two-
floor building without
elevator, stretchers,
wheelchairs or oxygen tanks
for cardiac patients?
However, the state of this
facility was not our main
concern since we were
determined to pay any
amount or take him
anywhere for treatment,
except bring him back
overseas as he had earlier
advised against. But what
took place over the next few
weeks was heart wrenching.
Neither the money nor the
love to care for our father
who single handedly made us
successful was an issue. But
for some ugly reason, the
doctor and his team of
nurses felt the opportunity to
showcase their firm grip on
professional powers over an
unsuspecting and helpless
family, willing to do anything
to save a patriarch. My entire
family in agreement with my
father had given full decision
making authority on our
father’s health, should he
become incapacitated to our
youngest brother; a
registered nurse and
currently a medical student.
But the hospital staff would
not buy the idea of keeping
the young man informed
about the diagnosis of a
father he brought to the
hospital and paid the bills
for. Every encounter to
ascertain any status update
was preceded with “I am not
authorized to release that
information” and series of
abusive words on my
brother. None of us was able
to obtain any information
about our father’s health
from the clinic including my
other brother who is also a
healthcare practitioner in the
United Kingdom. A couple of
weeks later, my father
passed on. He was 85.
This is neither an indictment
of the Nigerian medical
practitioners nor the staff of
the very clinic where he was
admitted. After all, he did
not want to punish us by
dying overseas as he stated
since he was an American
resident and used to come to
the United States for medical
care. I strongly believe it was
his time and he moved on
very peacefully. But even the
peaceful and respectful life
my father lived could not
guarantee him some respect
by a mortuary attendant at
the Aladimma General
Hospital, Owerri who
completely went rogue the
day we came to retrieve his
corpse for burial. Upon my
brother humbly asking why
he carelessly stained my
father’s white suit with
embalmment fluid, “The
devil’s cousin” went into a
convulsive rant and verbally
undressed everyone standing
within reach as if he had
been confronted by my
father’s ghost the night
before.
After feeling the mission had
been accomplished by
abusively stamping his
authority through verbal
show of force to an Army
Captain, a Catholic priest, two
medical professionals and a
college lecturer, who came to
retrieve their father’s corpse,
he then went into a
disillusioned mystic threat;
mortuary style as if a Soldier,
a priest a nurse and a
medical student had never
seen a dead person before
nor heard of those
unfounded mortuary stories.
As if that was not enough,
the near death looking
mortician also thought it
necessary to ask “By the way,
what is the noise about and
what is so special about him,
is he a stainless man?” This
was the point where I lost my
cool because honestly, my
father was nicknamed Mr.
clean by some of his friends
and he requested to be
dressed in white as a sign of
neatness and purity.
To have the “Malnourished
undertaker” deliberately
disrespect my father’s corpse
at that moment was a low
blow and I was clenching for
the killer punch. But any act
of violence or heavy-
handedness would go against
everything my father stood
for, so I walked away for a
quick cool off. After all said
and done, the “Graveyard
bully’s” justification was that
nobody should teach him his
job. Should a simple question
from a grieving family
warrant such a throw of
tantrum? One might ask.
Aside from the solemnity of
death and protecting the
dignity of the dead, isn’t
there something called
customer service? But then I
was meant to understand
that in Nigeria, that is a tall
order which nobody cares to
deliver.
All through my 2 weeks stay
in Nigeria, I saw firsthand
incessant muscle flexing in
every instant of daily living.
The “Keke” riders, bank
tellers, nurses, hotel
receptionists etc all have
something in common; lack
of respect, arrogance,
verbally abusive and could
care less about customer
service. This also includes a
young 27 year old gateman
at the new Concord estates,
who spent more than 30
minutes grueling me on
security risks because I drove
by a street twice looking for
an address. He tried to
inform me that he had the
powers to detain me because
I had no business in the
estate and that I posed a risk
to the “Bourgeoisies” and
their billion naira houses.
However, he carried no gun,
did not care to know my
license plate, and told me his
full name, age and
hometown without even
asking for any of my
information.
He was only concerned about
letting me know he was in-
charge. As a Captain in the
Army and a veteran of
Operation Enduring Freedom,
I think I know a thing or two
about security, disarming a
person as well as hand-to-
hand combat. The young
man was within arm’s reach
to the rolled down front
passenger’s window where I
was sitting, which prompted
me to laugh because I knew
he was more of a security
risk to himself than anything
else. But the point was that
he had on a blue prison type
jumper which to him means
power at the estate gates.
Sadly you feel a sense of
relief, heading to the airport
for a departure from the
once wonderful country of
the world’s happiest people,
and then you run into a gang
of “Pan Handlers” or what
you may call beggars in
uniform (Customs,
Immigration, NDLEA and the
Aviation Security personnel).
They have “upped” their
game to a filthy class
standard with such a dare
devil audacity that would
have any sane mind
scratching his or her head in
utter disgust. When they are
not asking for “Weting you
bring for us?” they are
blatantly commanding for
their own portion of your
wallet content for which they
feel entitled to.
The so called quarantine
personnel are more
concerned about how many
pounds of dried fish and
egusi you are allowed take
with you, without telling you
which law or regulation states
such. They don’t care to
know that you are among the
Nigerians in Diaspora,
responsible for remitting over
N1.7 trillion ($11.00 billion)
in 2011 alone into the
Nigerian economy; the
highest of any African
country according a World
Bank report. In the United
States and Europe,
immigrants are encouraged
to bring in their ethnic foods
as a means to guarantee
their comfort and enhance
cultural integration, the result
of which are growth of labor
force and economic
development; prompting me
to ask which international
relations, tourism and
economic development
manuals Nigerian authorities
read?
In Nigeria now everyone is
out to let you know they
have something over you
because within such spaces,
they are the laws, the juries,
the judges and the “Grand
bullies” and for now, you can
do nothing about it. This is
what the society has become;
a state in a race for power
and in a deficiency of human
dignity.

Peckerso@gmail.com

#CONSENSUS 2015