Another point of view on the Akara issue, by Azu Ishiekwene

The heated debate over First Lady Oluremi Tinubu’s comment on akara, roasted corn and kulikuli, while discussing the federal government’s economic agenda, still elicits a strong aroma, much like the smell of any of these popular local snacks.
This will not go away, especially after her husband, President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, jokingly stirred things up at a public event by calling her Iya Alakara, meaning the akara seller.
At an event at the State House on June 23 to flag off the Renewed Hope Initiative (RHI) Economic Empowerment Program for Women Small Traders, with business recapitalization grants of N50,000 each to 37,000, 1,000 from each of the 36 states and Abuja, the First Lady had suggested that beneficiaries could reinvest the grants in the sale of akara, roasted maize or kulikuli.
Eat cake
The suggestion has sparked a firestorm, especially among those who say the First Lady was insensitive and out of touch, and those who disagree. It reminds me of the Austrian-born duchess, Marie Antoinette, the last French queen before the French Revolution and her curious association with Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s book, Confessions.
Of all the interesting things Rousseau wrote in the book about his personal life – the ups and downs and struggles in a society going through very difficult times – one of the most talked about expressions in the Confessions related to the French queen is “Let them eat cake”.
Antoinette had not been born at that time, so it was unlikely that she would have said this. Yet a mix of fact and legend from Rousseau’s book suggests that on the eve of the French Revolution, in the midst of protests against starvation over the shortage of bread and other staples, Antoinette’s companions told her that Paris was boiling.
Legend suggests that she looked out the window, looked out at the glitz of the palace, and was genuinely perplexed that hunger for bread could lead to protests.
“Let them eat cake,” he would say, a statement that, over generations, has come to represent the epitome of elite disconnection.
It takes more than just cake
Oluremi Tinubu doesn’t put it that way; he didn’t say, “Let them eat cake,” even though some of the outraged public gave his comment a rather monstrous spin.
In a country with a large population of rural poor and a growing number of accumulating urban poor, people need all the help they can get, no matter how small it may seem. Stories abound of people in whose lives these small interventions have made a difference.
Mexico, Brazil, and Bangladesh are examples of countries where small, targeted, and sustained efforts (often a combination of direct cash transfers, job training, education, and mentorship) have lifted millions of people out of poverty.
I’m not sure whether, by offering a token to support akara or kulikuli sellers, the First Lady wanted to achieve what Maryam Babangida’s Better Life for Rural Women couldn’t, or that she was aiming for an improved, preferred version of Patience Jonathan’s Women of Change.
He just wanted to reach out and his heart was obviously in the right place. She must have been genuinely perplexed by the controversy, as she made further clarifications to Jigawa a few days later when he announced further grants.
Our mother…
Unfortunately, the timing was wrong. And worse still, the context for many outside the gilded halls in which his speeches were delivered conveyed an unsettling sense of pain, hardship and frustration reminiscent of pre-revolutionary France. It wasn’t what Remi Tinubu had said; it was what was heard that became the problem.
In March last year, for example, the First Lady gave away thousands of professional kits (gowns and Crocs) to Delta State nursing students, an extraordinary act of charity, upon which the Master of Ceremonies performed “Na our mama bi this o, we no get another one…”, a pidgin song to celebrate Oluremi Tinubu. Instead of singing along responsively, the audience, mostly young people, heard something different and responded in a chorus that not only turned the song on its head but also weaponized it.
When the First Lady said she would donate 50,000 naira to the beneficiaries of the RHI small traders programme, I can imagine those in the room applauded her. But what you heard outside was different.
Age of anger
And listeners, many of them Gen Z, couldn’t relate. How can a former two-term senator (an elite political group known to be widely considered among the highest paid political officials in the world) offer a token to small traders? What was akara in the picture of the grave difficulties Nigerians face, from insecurity, to worsening material poverty, to poor access to healthcare and education?
My Akara Story
I used to stand in queues late at night or very early in the morning at Okoya Junction, Ajegunle, waiting for my turn to buy akara, dodo or dun dun from the Iya Alakara, and perhaps even the First Lady still has similar memories from her past. But this was a world where my parents were sure I would get out and come home safely. And even though the four of us (including my parents) lived in one room, the government paid my tuition and healthcare was free. We lived on the meager income of our mother, a cook, and father, a warehouse worker at the port authority docks.
I agree that even today there are some exceptions to the rule, including my favorite boli seller along CMD Road, Lagos, who once told me that the company’s sales largely paid for his son’s University of Lagos fees. But the world has changed – and Nigeria has become tougher, with a growing army of young people who, for better or worse, don’t give their leaders an easy ride.
American version
When Bill Clinton or Barack Obama extol hot dogs or stop at McDonald’s for a drink and apple pie, their credentials are hardly in doubt. US voters can identify with them not only because some of these politicians have already held odd jobs, but also because, with the notable exception of President Donald Trump, these people live modestly and often leave office poorer.
The First Lady should not be discouraged from doing good. He is in a different world than the Iya Alakara of old. This cold-free generation would not only welcome the Good Samaritan, but also demand authenticity and scrutinize him.
Finally, in today’s Nigeria, Marie Antoinette may not even have seen what was happening outside the palace. The chaperones will not allow this to happen.

*Ishiekwene is the editor-in-chief of LEADERSHIP and author of the book Writing for Media and Monetising it.