FeMI MACAULAY
When the filthy rich do not enrich the filthy poor, they make themselves filthy and impoverished. It cannot be enough to enrich the imagination of the poor by a display of the possibilities of prosperity without offering the enrichment that can make them prosper.
The death of Chief Antonio Oladeinde Fernandez in Brussels, Belgium, on September 1, prompted reflections on not only the burden of blessing but also the burden of the blessed. Fernandez enjoyed the awesome distinction of a billionaire brand, and less generous descriptions painted him as a multi-millionaire. Whether he was a billionaire or a multi-millionaire, there was no question that he was one of the richest Africans before the great leveller struck. His daughter, Mrs. Teju Phillips, a former Lagos State commissioner for commerce, said he was 86, contrary to media reports that he died at 79.
It is food for thought that Fernandez’s life exemplified an interesting definition highlighted by “The Richest Man in Babylon”, a bestseller by George Samuel Clason: “Money is the medium by which earthly success is measured.” What is the
medium by which earthly failure is measured? The poor can provide an answer. There is no doubt about Money’s success-projecting capacity, but it need not be restricted to personal and personalised success. Making a success of earthly life has broader social implications; it is also about making a success of earthly lives.
In other words, personal earthly success is a blessing that comes with a social burden. Perhaps the most enlightening demonstration of this important implication is the thinking that produced the idea for The Giving Pledge launched in June 2010 by the world’s richest man Bill Gates and wife Melinda in association with superrich Warren Buffet. It is a remarkably ethical “effort to invite the wealthiest individuals and families in the world to commit to giving the majority of their wealth to philanthropy.” The donation can be made either during the lifetime or after the death of the donor.
The beauty of the pledge is that it represents no more than a moral commitment and it is volitional. By April 2011, 69 billionaires had reportedly joined the campaign and pledged to give 50% or more of their wealth to support philanthropic causes. A year later, the campaign had attracted more of the elite rich and a report said “81 billionaires committed to giving at least half of their fortunes to charity”. According to the latest news, “As of August 2015, 137 billionaire or former billionaire individuals or couples have signed the pledge; a significant majority are, like Buffett and Gates, American citizens.”
Considering America’s rich status, it is noteworthy and speaks volumes for the enduring relevance of a giving philosophy driven by social responsibility that the original promoters of the pledge were prosperous Americans.
It is popular to argue for speaking truth to power. What about speaking truth to the power of money? The Giving Pledge is built on the socially influenced and socially influential logic of giving back to society. It suggests that demanding measurable social responsibility from the superrich is not necessarily inspired by a sense of entitlement; but there is a sense in which it is a social entitlement. It does not need to be imposed because it is properly self-imposing.
Nigeria’s superrich men and women ought to learn a thing or two from the foreign initiative. Two striking members of the country’s money club are Aliko Dangote and Folorunsho Alakija. Aliko Dangote is ranked by Forbes as Africa’s richest man and he is 67th on the magazine’s list of The 500 Richest People in the World 2015; in 2014 he was 23rd on the list. Folorunsho Alakija is ranked as the second richest African woman and also the third richest woman of African descent in the world.
Fernandez dazzled the world with his fabulous wealth which could be imagined from the flashes provided by, for instance, his reported six private jets, “ocean-going yacht” and island home in New York, United States. Described as “a business magnate and diplomat”, Fernandez was born in Lagos into a family with a South American background. His diplomatic decorations include: “Deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs and Permanent Representative of Central African Republic (CAR) at the United Nations, special adviser to the President of Mozambique on international economic matters, Ambassador-at-Large for the Republics of Togo and Angola, in 1966 consul for the then Republic of Dahomey (now Benin Republic), economic adviser to the Angolan government, aside from long-time adviser to President Jose Eduardo dos Santos (who has ruled Angola since 1975); and deputy minister of finance, Swaziland.”
For a Nigerian, it was a remarkable path. No less remarkable were his business interests : “Aside from Petro Inett, which did oil exploration in Angola, Equatorial Guinea and Gabon, his business interests spanned bauxite exports, gold mines and diamond pits, in these countries, mainly in central and southern Africa.”
Probably more remarkable was his immense inactivity in response to the needs of the social space, which was to the detriment of social development in his land of origin. It is no excuse that he was based in foreign lands. Regrettably, it may be said that Fernandez demonstrably operated far below his capacity as far as social giving was concerned, which is putting it diplomatically.
By an instructive coincidence, Fernandez died four days before the world marked the UN-endorsed International Day of Charity on September 5. It is relevant to quote Hungarian Csaba Korosi in a speech he gave at the UN on benevolent giving in the social context: “Charity can alleviate the worst effects of humanitarian crises, supplement public services in health care delivery, education, housing, and child protection. It assists the advancement of culture, science, sports, and natural heritage.”
To engage in fantasy, what would Nigeria look like if its superrich citizens appreciated the burden of blessing and the implications for social giving and social development? Fernandez may well be poorly remembered in the narrow context of his riches and opulent lifestyle, which is the tragedy of socially purposeless wealth. His life and death are open lessons for the country’s living legends of luxury. It is a blessing to be blessed and to be a blessing is blessed.
Ref: http://thenationonlineng.net/burden-of-blessing/
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