Mr President, comparison is the thief of succour

There is an unwritten rule in midwifery that every labour ward knows by heart: when a woman is in the throes of childbirth, you do not stand at the foot of the bed and tell her that her pain is mild compared to what other women have endured.

In that moment, sweat drips down her brow, tears fill her eyes, and she screams or bites as her body breaks itself to admit another life.

In that moment, you prioritise her dignity and emotional state over clinical detachment. You do not quote statistics or pontificate. You hold her hand, you mop her brow, you offer comfort, and you help her push. That is the only job.

President Bola Tinubu has, in his own words, described what Nigerians are going through since he assumed office as “birth pains”, the necessary agony that precedes the arrival of a reformed economy.

It is a fitting metaphor, one that could have aged like wine. But in Yenagoa on Friday, the President picked up a different script. Speaking in Bayelsa, he told Nigerians that, despite the current hardship, they are still better off than Kenyans and other Africans.

Now, the data, for what it is worth, is not entirely on his side. For context, the current petrol pump price in Kenya is KSh177.20 per litre, which is about N1,900 per litre.

Ghanaians are paying the equivalent of N1,800 per litre of petrol, and Ugandans, as of Friday, pay over N1,900 per litre. In Uganda, the biting effect cannot be overstated, as some marketers have reportedly closed shop.

However, when adjusted for purchasing power parity, the comparison does not flatter. Whatever increase Kenyans have to bear is only eating into an already higher minimum wage, which stands at roughly KSh15,201 (about N176,000 at current exchange rates) for Nairobi-based workers. Ghana’s minimum wage translates to about N135,000 per month. Nigeria’s N70,000 federal minimum wage, approved in July 2024, is still a struggle for many states to fully implement. But that is not even the point.

The point is that such data, in the middle of pain, does not console. Worse, it may irk.

Although the President assured Nigerians that he will “continue to find ways to ameliorate the suffering of the vulnerable” and described his government as one “that cares,” the comparison effectively neutralised his words of comfort.

Comparison, as the saying goes, is the thief of joy. It is also the harbinger of fury. It can anger the Nigerian sweating in 38-degree heat during a blackout, the woman whose tomato-grinding business must absorb rising fuel prices because of a war in the Middle East, and the civil servant whose N70,000 disappears before the middle of the month.

None of these people is comforted by the knowledge that a Ugandan somewhere might be having it worse. They are Nigerians. Their realities are distinct. And their President should be the last to hand them a ruler to measure their suffering against someone else’s.

Audience-congruent framing, the idea that a message must fit not just the facts but the emotional state of the listener, must call the shots here. The President may be factually correct and yet sound very different to Nigerians.

For instance, during World War II, Winston Churchill did not tell Londoners under the Blitz that the French were having it worse in Vichy. Franklin Roosevelt did not tell Americans in the Great Depression to cheer up because Germans were suffering more under the Weimar Republic.

Mr President, the midwife does not compare. The midwife delivers the baby.

During your visit to Jos, the Plateau State capital, to console families of the Palm Sunday killings, you told the audience, “You have no light at the airport, and I have to fly back within the next 10 minutes.”

Eleven words that erased the over two hours you actually spent in Plateau State. Today, many Nigerians still wrongly believe you spent only 10 minutes in Jos.

Mr President, you now have, for the first time in our history, three spokespersons, three musketeers whose job, among other things, is to clean up after you. Three men who spend their days issuing clarifications for sentences that should never have been spoken. Three men who must continually stuff the cat back into the bag. And your opponents are counting on every episode like those in Jos and Bayelsa. These recurring stirring comments mean the opposition may not even need to campaign against you. They may only need to record you, replay your words, and let them do the rest.

This appeal is made in goodwill, Mr President, because your success is Nigeria’s success. Not even the opposition can afford to stay in a Nigeria that is failing on your watch.

And so, this is said the way men are advised to zip up before a public appearance so the audience doesn’t see the colour of their underwear.

Stick to the script, Sir. Focus on the home front. Keep attention on the blackouts, the insecurity, and the food prices. These are the things Nigerians wake up to, not the GDP of Kenya.

It is not the midwife’s job to lecture the labouring woman on how bad it is in the next ward. It is to bring the baby out alive, place it on her chest, and say, “Congratulations, you did it. We did it.”

•Written By Stephen Angbulu