The leading University Campus Grown Fraternities (UCGF) have had a long run of durability in their existence. Like many glorified dictatorships, autocracies and predatory cults, their enduring survival is a function of the longevity of the founder or historical leader. There is no retirement- some are late and some are present.
The “cult of personality” of the historical leader prevents the development of consistent and well-enforced institutions, laws or rules within the UCGF. His changing moods, whims and preferences rule the UCGF as he pleases. The challenges to his inconsistencies are few and attract punitive sanctions. The outcome is that the UCGF is always in a state of permanent uncertainty; every member has to wait for the latest deceptions, half-truths, excuses, threats, punishments, exclusions or instructions of the leader to know what will happen next. Keeping members guessing is one of the most ancient tricks of cult leaders. The problem resulting is that the cult leader never lives forever. He will eventually become too ill or senile to lead, or he will pass away someday. That is when the succession battles and disintegration begin; he never thought any successor a good enough replacement. The scramble for power on his departure can be desperate and violent – many will eat and drink poison.
“Bird’s got something to teach us all; About being free, yeah; Be no rain… Be no rain…” – Gil Scott-Heron, from the lyrics, I Think I’ll Call It Morning
I declare myself to be an Opintar sometimes, yet with constant acceptance. Many think Opintar is a fun name. Or of vernacular because they cannot google it. Or the vanity of a man who has experienced severe illness many times in his adult life. It is none of these. Being an Opintar is an apt description of my lot in life and how I should live it. Opinterity is the closest I will ever know of being liberated and of joy, yet it is not a glorious thing to be due to the ambiguous internal costs.
The African leader like the African he rules has a derisory ontology. With billions of dollars stashed away in foreign accounts, endless terms in office and the excessive paraphernalia of power, these have become the identifiers of the African leader. The one destined lead African nations seem unable to escape it, either by choice or curse. From a people do their leaders emerge; they are no different from their compatriots except by rank and vocation. At least they look African, which is part of their ontology. No one cares where an African leader got his education, his tenures in office, her family background or his religion except for a few. No one cares about his ideology or philosophy. That is how derisory the ontology of the African leader is. He is nothing to anyone, but those he represents and whose stomach he fills. For most of these leaders, their citizens are utterly ashamed of them.