A country of the Big Man

We were all part of a motley crowd of chaotic customers at a petrol station in Ikoyi, Lagos. The last month of 2012 had brought with it the usual perennial fuel scarcity that had become the norm in recent years. Throughout the festive season, Nigerians had lived under the shadow of yet another fuel subsidy removal. Long queues at petrol stations in Lagos spilled into the roads. Plastic cans filled with fuel and hawked openly in the black market had become the new Christmas hamper.

As the rumour of an impending scarcity began to spread like the season’s harmattan haze, the few petrol stations in town had begun to hoard their supply in anticipation of a rumoured hike. Trust Nigerians, they had besieged the few petrol stations where fuel was available. Tempers ran high as long queues of cars and plastic cans of various shapes and sizes competed for space at a few petrol stations that were magnanimous enough to dispense fuel. It was always a battle of wits and influence peddling at most gas stations. The timing was right to act the big man. But this is normal. After all, Nigeria is a country of the big man.

At the NNPC mega station on Alfred Rewane Road Ikoyi, Lagos, the scene was chaotic. Long lines of cars and plastic cans, spilled into the adjoining streets creating a traffic snarl.

But the commotion seemed normal until one “big man” arrived at the scene.

The thickset man with all the trappings of the typical Nigerian “big man” drove his state-of-the art SUV into the petrol station from the exit point, deliberately jumping the queue amidst loud protestation-which, he of course, ignored. This haughty and insensitive act provoked an outrage. But the man, in the dark Range Rover Sports with tinted glasses scoffed at the rantings of those who had taken their time to queue for hours. The man’s temerity to jump the queue angered the people. But they could only protest until another important looking man who had observed the scene disinterestedly decided to take on the ‘’big man’’ head on.

Thus began a series of argument that soon snowballed into war of words. As the dispute raged, both men swore and tore at each other. The two “big men” boasted openly their connections in the armed forces, Abuja and Alausa. They threatened to use their connections from ‘’above’’ to deal with each other. One of the men paced up and down the scene in a typical “big man” style, flexing and speaking rapidly into his equally state-of-the-art mobile phone as if calling for reinforcements. The other one huffed and puffed, spitting fire. The spectacle provided some comic relief for motorists who had thought that in a matter of minutes the petrol station would be crawling with law enforcement agents whom the “big men” had invited.  But the anticipated battle of the two Lagos “big men” was not to be. It turned out to be one of Lagos many bizarre but amusing spectacles.

But the encounter got me thinking.

Why do Nigerians always like to act the big man? Does this come with the dynamics of living in the country? Was the Ikoyi “big man” actually serious when he threatened to use his connections or was he just bluffing? Could he actually have been speaking to himself while on the phone for “effects” just to instill some fear into his opponent? Was he actually serious when he called for reinforcement to deal with a civilian non-combatant who was unarmed, or was he just another Nigerian who likes to act the “big man”. In a country where grandstanding and name dropping are tools for survival, acting the big man seems to come with the territory.

Pretending to be a person of influence is a trait that defines a typical Nigerian. In a country where daily living is a battle of the survival of the fittest, one has to quickly learn how to stay above intimidation and oppression. Acting big or pretending to wield some influence or knowing the people that matter in high places is part of being street wise or having what is popularly known as Lagos sense.

Without these traits one is bound to experience some unpleasant experiences that would make one’s life a misery. Come to think of it, how does one survive in a city like Lagos where there seems to be a conspiracy to make daily living a walk through the valley of the shadow of unruly neighbours, police checkpoints, bullish landlords, overzealous traffic law enforcers and the likes? When confronted by Lagos’ many life’s miseries, then it would do you some good to do some influence-peddling, drop some high sounding names from Alausa or better still within the ranks of some high ranking military officers that will instill fear into your adversaries.

Then, you would be sure to bluff your way out of a tricky situation. Street wise Lagosians, for example, know that an ugly situation like running foul of traffic law would compel one to act the big man or pretend to know one. This explains why Lagosians like to break the law with impunity. They believe that they would go scot-free because of an ‘’uncle’’ in Alausa or another friend who knows a big man somewhere.

Acting the big man is also a weapon of defence. It is the armour Lagosians wear to retain the prestigious but often painful tag of a Lagosian.  Expressions such as, “Do you know who I am?  I will deal with you”, are common in this city.

Have you noticed how some Nigerians in Lagos are quick to use their connections when they flout traffic laws? The officials of the Lagos State Traffic Management Agency, popularly known as LASTMA, have often been at the receiving end of the big man syndrome. It has become commonplace that as soon as a traffic offender is arrested, he pulls out his phone and pretends to put a call to any of their bosses in Alausa. Often, the typical LASTMA official is intimidated while the offender walks away freely.

In an encounter with some policemen at Iyana Oworo one late night the other day, a friend of mine was stopped at a checkpoint. Having satisfied their absurd checks, they insisted he must come with them to their station nearby to explain how he came about the $300 bills in his wallet. My friend’s alarm bell was at an all time high. He knew better than to ride with them to the station. Getting there alive would be another matter altogether-even for a paltry sum of $300. After all, people have been shot for not parting with N20 at checkpoints.

To avoid riding with them to the station, my friend did some quick thinking. He placed a call to another friend whose father was a retired police commissioner. When my friend asked them to speak with the “commissioner” at the other end, the police officers bolted, leaving my friend at the scene without confirming if indeed he had called a Police Commissioner or not! Acting the big man is not limited to the streets alone. Big men are to be found in the churches, at parties and official events. For example, arriving late for an official event hours after the event had begun is the hallmark of ‘’bigmanism’’. You often find the so-called VIPs and politicians in this class. They consider their disregard for timeliness which is infamously known as ‘’African time’’ as a measure of their importance.

So folks, next time you get caught up in any unpleasant situation on Lagos’ treacherous streets, do not just go limp and be an easy prey. Brave it. You got to fight. Now keep those complimentary cards within reach, you might need them. Or, even pretend the Governor is your uncle! Those guys may never spot the difference. After all, we are a country of the “big man.”