By Wale Ojo-Lanre, Esq.
Her Excellency, Senator Oluremi Tinubu, should please forgive them.
She should forgive those who deliberately removed her statement from its proper context, twisted her words and circulated misleading interpretations merely to harvest applause on social media.
The First Lady did not declare that ₦50,000 would transform every Nigerian into a wealthy entrepreneur. Neither did she suggest that the grant was sufficient to establish a factory, open a supermarket or build a multinational company.
Her message was simple: a determined person can begin or strengthen a modest trade with a relatively small amount of capital rather than surrender completely to hopelessness.
In the widely circulated remarks, she cited businesses such as selling akara, roasted corn and kuli-kuli as examples of enterprises that could be started on a small scale. The emphasis was on starting somewhere, however modestly, and not on presenting petty trading as the ultimate ambition of Nigerians.
More importantly, the ₦50,000 being distributed under the Renewed Hope Initiative is a grant to support petty traders in strengthening and expanding their businesses.
That is the statement some people have mischievously reduced to: “Remi Tinubu says Nigerians should survive on ₦50,000.”
That is unfair.
₦50,000 IS NOT SMALL TO EVERYBODY
Some privileged Nigerians may consider ₦50,000 insignificant. But there are thousands of hardworking people who cannot raise even ₦5,000 to begin a legitimate trade.
There are women whose entire trays of tomatoes, pepper, vegetables, roasted groundnuts or akara ingredients are worth less than ₦50,000.
There are traders who borrow money every morning, sell throughout the day, repay the lender in the evening and return home with almost nothing.
To such people, ₦50,000 is not an insult.
It is stock.
It is working capital.
It is freedom from a daily moneylender.
It is an opportunity to buy directly from a wholesaler.
It may be the difference between sitting helplessly at home and earning something to feed a family.
An enterprising local trader does not necessarily need hundreds of thousands of naira to begin selling vegetables, pepper, fruits, akara, roasted corn or other everyday commodities.
Certainly, inflation has reduced the purchasing power of money. Nobody should pretend that ₦50,000 can solve every problem confronting a struggling family. However, acknowledging its limitations should not prevent us from appreciating its usefulness to the people for whom it is intended.
I HAWKED IRU TO FINANCE MY EDUCATION
Look carefully at the photograph accompanying this article.
That young man carrying a heavy load on his head is me.
It is a replica of the life I once lived.
My early education was financed entirely from the profits my grandmother made from selling iru—locust beans.
I did not merely assist her occasionally. I became an active participant in that humble enterprise.
In Usi-Ekiti, I was the first boy known for hawking iru. At that time, hawking such a product was largely regarded as the work of women and girls. But necessity does not recognise artificial pride.
I carried the bowls of iru on my head and trekked long distances in search of customers.
I did not hawk only within Usi-Ekiti. I trekked from Usi to Ilogbo, Ayegunle, Iroko, Idao and Ijero-Ekiti, selling iru so that my grandmother could make enough profit to keep me in school.
I was not hawking because it was fashionable.
I did not carry those heavy loads on my head as a form of exercise.
I did it because that was the economic reality confronting my grandmother and me.
Every small sale mattered.
Every little profit counted.
Every coin had a purpose.
The profits from that modest trade paid my school expenses and laid the foundation for whatever I have become today.
Had my late grandmother received a business grant in those days, perhaps her trade would have expanded. Perhaps she would have bought larger quantities at better prices. Perhaps the burden on her would have been lighter, and our lives would have been considerably better.
Had Senator Oluremi Tinubu been around at that time with such an intervention, my grandmother might have become a more prosperous trader, and my own journey through life might have been less arduous.
But consider the remarkable journey of that little boy who once trekked from Usi-Ekiti to neighbouring communities with bowls of iru balanced on his head.
Today, by the grace of God, that same boy has visited more than 86 countries across the world.
From hawking iru along the dusty roads of Ekiti to travelling across continents, my life is proof that there is dignity in humble beginnings and that the child of a struggling petty trader can rise beyond the limitations of his environment.
That is why I cannot ridicule a ₦50,000 grant intended for women whose circumstances resemble those of my grandmother.
I know what a small amount of capital can mean to a determined trader.
I know what the profit from a bowl of iru can do in the life of a child.
And I know that behind many trays, bowls, baskets and roadside tables are great dreams waiting for only a little support to flourish.
REMEMBER THE BUHARI-ERA TRADER SUPPORT
Under the administration of President Muhammadu Buhari, the Federal Government introduced programmes such as TraderMoni and MarketMoni to assist petty traders and artisans.
Many beneficiaries started with relatively small amounts. Some received ₦10,000, while others progressed to larger sums after repayment.
Those initiatives were widely promoted as efforts to provide working capital to people at the lowest level of the economy.
Therefore, if Senator Oluremi Tinubu is now facilitating ₦50,000 grants for petty traders, the gesture should be commended rather than mischievously distorted.
The fact that ₦50,000 cannot build a factory does not mean it cannot transform the daily business of a woman selling vegetables.
The fact that it cannot establish a supermarket does not mean it cannot free a roadside trader from the grip of a daily lender.
The fact that it cannot make everyone rich does not mean it is useless.
DO NOT DESPISE HUMBLE BEGINNINGS
Those laughing at women selling akara, vegetables, roasted corn, iru and kuli-kuli should be careful.
There is dignity in legitimate labour.
The woman frying akara is not inferior to the executive sitting in a corporate office. She is working, producing, serving customers, feeding her family and contributing to the local economy.
Many successful businesses began as roadside tables, trays carried on heads, wooden kiosks and single-room workshops.
Starting small is not the tragedy.
Remaining permanently trapped at that level because society denies people access to capital, infrastructure and opportunity is the real tragedy.
Rather than mocking these women, we should ask how the grants can reach genuine beneficiaries, how recipients can be trained, how their businesses can be monitored and how promising enterprises can receive additional support.
That is constructive criticism.
Twisting a compassionate intervention into a weapon of political mockery is not.
Senator Oluremi Tinubu should forgive those attacking her.
Some have never hawked anything.
Some have never watched a grandmother count coins at night to determine whether a child could attend school the following morning.
Some have never trekked from one community to another carrying goods on their heads in search of buyers.
Some have never experienced the frustration of seeing a profitable opportunity but lacking the smallest amount of money required to seize it.
They may therefore find it difficult to understand that ₦50,000, though modest in the wider economy, can be meaningful in the hands of an enterprising petty trader.
I understand because I was once that boy.
I carried iru on my head.
I trekked through communities to find customers.
My grandmother traded so that I could be educated.
My early education was wholly financed by the profits she made from selling iru.
Today, that boy has travelled to more than 86 countries.
Therefore, I will not join anyone in ridiculing assistance offered to people whose circumstances resemble the life from which I emerged.
₦50,000 may be small to you.
But to another Nigerian, it may be the first door that has opened in years.
Madam First Lady, please forgive them. They do not know what ₦50,000 can mean to someone who has absolutely nothing.
