Many years after leaving secondary school, one of the most unjust punishments that has remained with me was when the prefects were locked by the principal in his office on a Saturday for almost a whole day because a female student, rumored to be dating the principal, was found to have not slept in the hostel the night before. The principal summoned us into his office and asked where the female student was. We had no idea. He said we had failed in our duty of ensuring boarding students stayed on campus and only left after obtaining proper permissions from one of the house mistresses. Curiously enough, he did not summon the housemasters or mistresses.
About 15 of us were crammed into the tiny office with a small window that was closed. Even if opened, the window had burglar bars installed, and we would not have been able to escape through it. What if there had been an emergency like a fire or a medical issue? The principal left with the door key after locking it. There was no telephone, other students had no idea we had been locked up, our parents knew nothing about what was going on, no teacher knew what was going on, and the principal just left and probably forgot about us until later in the day. We had no access to food and water. That experience and the injustice surrounding it remain with me more than 40 years later.
Similarly, the experience of some Nigerians during yesterday’s strike action by the Nigerian Labour Congress (NLC) and its counterpart, the Trade Union Congress (TUC), will remain with them for a long time and, in some cases, forever. Let me be clear: most Nigerians are facing serious economic hardships. There is enough blame to go around for both the leadership and the followership. That is a discussion for another day. Whether the labour strike was justifiable or not is debatable. What is a fact, though, is that it happened.
In making sure the strike took place, the NLC and TUC did the unthinkable: they shut down essential services to the nation and its citizens—the very citizens they claimed to be advocating for. As with everything in Nigeria, we talk, and we move on. Unfortunately, there are those who will not move on from the impact of their experiences yesterday. The individual prevented from getting urgent medical care in a government hospital—some would have lost loved ones as a result. How will they recover from such a loss? The individual who could not catch a flight to be with a dying loved one to say goodbye—how does he recover from that? The factory worker on a daily wage asked to stay home due to a lack of electricity to power machines, and who went to bed hungry. Just as not many did not know what my colleagues and I went through several years ago, there will be many untold stories of long-lasting negative experiences as a result of the strike.
Labour unions should embark on legitimate strikes to drive home their demands, but such actions should not be carried out in a way that is punitive to the economy and the citizens of the country. That, to me, is akin to wielding the same collective punitive stick as my former school principal. It is crucial to find a balance between advocating for workers’ rights and ensuring that the methods employed do not inflict undue harm on the economy they should be committed to growing and the very people they aim to protect. Therefore, I urge the NLC and TUC to engage in retrospection and self-assessment, reflecting on the broader impact of their actions on society. By doing so, they can devise strategies that both advance their cause and safeguard the well-being of all Nigerians.
NB: Johnson Babalola, a Canada based lawyer, leadership consultant and corporate emcee, is a public affairs analyst.
