Last week’s column on what I called the “relentless Yorubacentric take-over of the Nigerian National Petroleum Company (NNPC)” based on information I was given by a Yoruba supporter of Tinubu who is close to the circuits of power in the Tinubu presidency drew far more attention than I had anticipated.
Northern politicians like former Kaduna State governor Nasir El-Rufai who had defended, or at least had no problems with, Muhammadu Buhari’s never-before-seen provincialism (and who probably hated me for calling it out at the time) used my column as a crutch to get even with President Bola Ahmed Tinubu who threw him under the bus after his full-throated support for his election. Well, such opportunistic pivots are part of Nigeria’s political theater.
However, anyone who follows my public interventions knows that I have no allegiance to any set of narrow, predetermined interests and that my public commentaries are animated by my well-considered estimation of what constitutes Nigerian society’s collective good.
That’s why I have a revolving door of critics and admirers—praised by one group under one administration, scorned by the same group under another. My principles remain constant, even if public sentiment does not.
Several of the people who applaud my critiques of a southern president revile and slander me when a northerner is president, and several of the people who are bent out of shape because of my critical columns on Tinubu praised my “bravery” and “truth to power” when I wrote similar columns under Buhari.
This isn’t the reason, of course, for revisiting my column (which I rarely do) because self-interested commendations and condemnations of the expression of critical opinions are natural to the territory of public intellection.
I am returning to the issue because I felt compelled to clarify an important aspect of last week’s piece.
A trusted older friend pointed out that Bayo Ojulari, who is rumored to be Tinubu’s pick to succeed Mele Kyari as head of the NNPC, is not merely a Yoruba man but a Yoruba northerner from southern Kwara State. This distinction fundamentally alters the narrative.
Had I known this earlier, I would not have written the column as I did. I have no desire to perpetuate the regressive, ethnocentric narratives that gained prominence during Olusegun Obasanjo’s presidency where the North was invidiously dichotomized into a “core” and a “periphery.”
Northern identity, as historically defined, transcends ethnicity, religion, or geography within the former Northern Region. It is a shared geo-political and cultural construct.
A northerner is anyone from the former Northern Region irrespective of ethnicity, religion, or location within the region. Being a northerner requires nobody’s approval and isn’t invalidated by anybody’s disapproval.
As the late Sunday Awoniyi used to say, when Frederick Lugard delineated the North and included his people into it, his ancestors were not consulted; he just found himself a northerner and embraced it because it has defined him since his birth. (The only prominent Yagba people from Kogi State I know who say they are not Yoruba are Professor Etannibi Alemika and prominent journalist Tunde Asaju).
The North isn’t an ethnic group; it’s constructed geo-cultural and political identity that encompasses a diversity of ethnicities. It’s Nigeria’s most complex, ecumenical identity.
As I pointed out in previous columns, a real, Ahmadu Bello-type northerner would regard Yoruba people from Kwara and Kogi states, or even Igbo people in Ado, Oju, Obi and Okpoku local government areas of Benue State, as integral “regional kin” deserving of every privilege that is accruable to a northerner.
To argue that certain individuals cannot represent the North based on their ethnicity invites uncomfortable questions about the region’s cultural and political boundaries.
If Bayo Bashir Ojulari, an Ahmadu Bello University-trained engineer who identifies as a northerner by origin, cannot lead the NNPC because of his Yoruba heritage, then the resentment of Yoruba people in Kwara and Kogi seeking affiliation with the Southwest becomes understandable.
It becomes intolerably churlish to talk about “outsiders” “dividing” the North, as we like to do when fissiparous tendencies emerge within the region. Either we accept all as northerners, or we fracture the identity entirely.
This clarification is necessary because I do not want to be on record as having opposed Ojulari’s ascension to the headship of the NNPC on account of his ethnicity, especially after realizing that he is a northerner who just happens to share the same ethnicity as the president.
Ultimately, it’s up to the president to navigate this complex identitarian landmine, but as someone who researches and is writing a book on collective identity construction, it would be remiss of me not to point out that Ojulari’s northern identity is as valid as Kyari’s— or any other northerner from any part of the region.
This admission does not, in any way, take away from my broader point about the Yorubacentric—or more specifically Lagoscentric—provincialism of Tinubu’s government.
The NNPC’s official response to my column, which asserted that merit alone determines staffing decisions, is a load of unvarnished drivel. In a plural society like Nigeria, meritocracy is never the sole determinant of appointments; symbolic representation and political expediency often play decisive roles.
Moreover, the NNPC is far from a paragon of merit-driven excellence. Its inefficiency and dysfunction are legendary. A truly meritocratic organization would not consistently deliver the subpar performance for which the NNPC is infamous.
There are, of course, agencies of government in Nigeria that have distinguished themselves because of the quality of people who head or headed them.
Given the well-known, inherent weakness of institutions in Nigeria, government agencies habitually assume the character, temperaments, and expertise of their heads. For example, NAFDAC used to be vibrant, visible, and virile because of the vivaciousness and vitality of Dora Akunyili.
Through her bold leadership, counterfeit drug syndicates were exposed, and public confidence in the agency soared. Tragically, in the years since she left the agency, it has receded into near oblivion. Few now rely on its assurances, which is a far cry from its former prominence.
The Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) became a household name and a reference point for fighting corruption in Nigeria because of the vigor, sincerity, and incorruptibility that Nuhu Ribadu brought to his work as its head.
He famously rejected a $15 million bribe from a politician, an unprecedented act that inspired my paternal uncle to name his son Ribadu. (After letting my uncle know that Ribadu is the name of a town in Adamawa State and not a given name, we still chuckle about the oddity of a Ribadu Kperogi whenever the topic comes up!) Today, the EFCC struggles to maintain even a fraction of the credibility it once had.
The late Hamman Tukur’s fearlessness and forthrightness gave visibility and verve to the Revenue Mobilization Allocation and Fiscal Commission (RMAFC). Now no one hears about the commission anymore.
Yemi Kale’s tenure at the National Bureau of Statistics (NBS) similarly transformed what was once a lackluster agency into a cornerstone of policy and economic analysis. His analytical rigor and commitment to transparency made the NBS a respected institution in Nigeria’s socio-economic landscape.
Today, however, the NBS struggles to maintain its once-sterling reputation. It has succumbed to the fate of NAFDAC, EFCC, and RMAFC.
So, I recognize the importance of merit in the choice of leadership.
However, the NNPC isn’t amenable to the merit-driven transformational leadership we saw in NAFDAC, EFCC, RMAFC, and NBS.
It’s a conduit for patronage and the dispensation of favors to cronies. Choice of its headship is therefore necessarily political. That means people are justified to refract the choice of its leadership from the lenses of Nigerian identitarian politics.