In a landmark judgement that could deal with those who lend themselves to electoral malpractices in Nigeria, the Court of Appeal in Calabar last week upheld the conviction of Peter Ogban. The professor of soil science at the University of Calabar was the returning officer in the 2019 Akwa Ibom North West senatorial election, which he attempted to rig in favour of the man who is now our Senate President: Godswill Akpabio. But we must first commend the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) for the quiet way it has been prosecuting otherwise respected academics who were hired on an ad hoc basis for elections which they ended up compromising. Three months ago, Ignatius Uduk, another professor of Human Kinetics at the University of Uyo, was also successfully prosecuted by INEC for his misconduct during the Essien Udim state constituency election where he served as the returning officer in 2019.

Now to the Ogban matter. Akpabio, we all recall, was governor of Akwa Ibom State between 2007 and 2015 on the platform of the then ruling (but now main opposition) Peoples Democratic Party (PDP). After his gubernatorial tenure ended in 2015, he contested for Senate on the platform of the same PDP and won. At the Senate, Akpabio became the Minority Leader. Two years later, he ditched the party for the ruling All Progressives Congress (APC) on which ticket he contested the 2019 senatorial election against 10 other candidates, including Christopher Ekpenyong, a former Akwa Ibom State deputy governor, who ran on the PDP platform. At the end, Ekpenyong won with 118,215 votes while Akpabio polled 83,158 votes.

However, before that declaration at the INEC state office in Uyo by Ogban, there had been some unsavoury developments at the Ikot Ekpene senatorial collation centre that led to the intervention of the then Resident Electoral Commissioner (REC) in the state, Mr Mike Igini. The details are in the 25th March 2021 judgement of Justice Augustine D. Odokwo of the Akwa Ibom State High Court, Ikot Ekpene Division—the same judgement affirmed by the Court of Appeal in Calabar last week. In 32 pages and 13788 words, Justice Odokwo laid bare the failed attempt by Ogban to thwart the will of the Akwa Ibom North West senatorial electorate.

With the INEC as complainant, Ogban was arraigned on 15th December 2020 on a two-count charge of fraudulent manipulation of polling results and announcement of fake election results, both punishable under section 123 of the Electoral Act, 2010 (as amended). The summary of the case is that in the process of collating results on 24th February 2019, during which the collation/returning officer for each local government would publicly announce and then tender original copy, Ogban (as Senatorial Collation/Returning Officer) deliberately wrote results that were different from what were announced and at variance with the documents submitted to him for Etim Ekpo and Oruk Anam local government areas.

During the trial, the INEC principal witnesses who served as returning officers/collation officers in the two contentious local government areas are both lecturers at the University of Uyo: Dr. John Udoidem, who is currently the Head of the Department of Banking and Finance, and Dr. Itemobong Ekaidem, a lecturer in the Department of Chemical Pathology. In his testimony, Udoidem said he was announcing the scores in the EC8C (1) form to Ogban in a loud voice, digit after digit in the presence of so many people, including agents of all parties. “In my Form – Exhibit 2, APC had a total vote of 10,534 while PDP had 25,123. The difference noted is that in Exhibit 3, the accused person recorded for APC – 15,534, an increase of 5,000. For PDP, the accused person recorded 20,123. The figure there was reduced by 5,000,” Udoidem said.

Although Ogban claimed to have recorded the figures he heard as against what was in the documents submitted to him, Justice Odokwo found his defence unbelievable: “…matching the figures of votes recorded by the APC in exhibit 2 which is 10,534 with the figure 15,534 as per exhibit 3, I will not require the aid of any magnifying glasses to see and come to the irresistible conclusion that the votes for APC was inflated with 5000 votes as against what was originally recorded in exhibit 2 by the Local Government Collation Officer, Dr. John Udoidem, the PW1.”

Another INEC witness, Ekaidem, had a similar problem with Ogban. What he called out as results for Etim Ekpo local government area were, ‘APC – 2,671, PDP – 6,603’ but the professor, who argued on the point that vowel/pronunciation could be misunderstood, recorded 5,671 for the APC and 3,306 for the PDP. “I read out the scores to the public and also to the Ikot Ekpene Senatorial Collation Officer (and) at the end of it, I submitted the copy I was reading to the accused person,” Ekaidem said while testifying against Ogban.

In his judgement, which has been affirmed by the appeal court, Justice Odokwo asked a pertinent question: “Can a reasonable man confronted with the kind of response given by the accused person that he did not compare the figures before filling exhibit 3 say the accused person as a professor acted diligently?” The judge answered his own question: “I would certainly not think so… this court cannot accept the evidence of the accused person as that of a credible witness given his position as a professor in the academic field.” And then this: “How can the accused be comfortable relying on what he heard rather than what is in a document, especially as it touches and concern figures?”

The subtext of the story is that Igini, as then REC in Akwa Ibom State, played a central role in eventually holding the erring INEC ad hoc staff accountable. However, even though he would have been the beneficiary had Ogban succeeded with his manipulation, Akpabio has consistently disowned the professor who pleaded for mercy when convicted in 2021. “This is an eye-opener for anyone who participated in local, state or national activities to do so with dexterity and not take anything for granted,” Ogban had told Justice Odokwo four years ago following his conviction. “I plead that you grant me 100 per cent mercy and allow me to go and continue with my responsibilities. If I lose my source of income, it means all the dependants I have mentioned will suffer, especially the condition of my aged mother.”

Meanwhile, it is true that Akpabio challenged the declaration of Ekpenyong as winner of the election, and a rerun was ordered in one local government by the Court of Appeal in Calabar. But let’s examine the facts. On that fateful election night on 24th February 2019, Ekpenyong was leading comfortably after results of nine local governments had been declared. The only outstanding result was from one local government: Essien Udim local government area where Akpabio hails from. When that result eventually arrived, Akpabio had 61,399 votes—enough to give him overall victory. That is ‘Rigging 101’ in the manual of how-to-game elections in Nigeria!

That night in Ikot Ekpene collation centre, it was the intervention of Igini that prevented what could have been a violent crisis. He ordered a suspension of the process and directed all the electoral officers to Uyo, the state capital. After cancelling results from several wards in Essien Udim local government that were considered not genuine, INEC called the election in favour of Ekpenyong. As returning officer for the senatorial district, it was Ogban who was saddled with the responsibility of announcing the result. But by then, the professor was already battling for his reputation over Etim Ekpo and Oruk Anam local governments results.

Akpabio, of course, mounted a fierce legal challenge against INEC, alleging manipulation of the results for which he accused Igini. He failed in his bid. Both the tribunal and appellate court upheld INEC’s claim that only 19,455 voters were accredited in Essien Udim local government. And with that, the 61,399 votes recorded in favour of Akpabio which the commission rejected were considered as lacking credibility. However, on grounds of non-compliance with the Electoral Act 2010 (as amended), Justice Tanko Husseini ordered a rerun in Akpabio’s local government of Essien Udim before a winner could be announced. When the rerun election eventually held in January 2020 and the final figures were tallied, Ekpenyong won with 134,717 votes to 83,820 votes by Akpabio.

Following the appeal court judgement in November 2019, INEC Public Affairs Officer in Akwa Ibom State, Don Etukudo, said the commission had been vindicated in its position that the Essien Udim election was characterised by “massive rigging and manipulations that culminated in the dubious award of 61,329 votes to Senator Akpabio alone in the LGA.”  Etukudo argued that what INEC thwarted was the plot to use a fraudulent result from one local government to neutralise results from nine other LGAs in the senatorial district. “Thugs had gone on the rampage in most parts of the LGA as soon as the polls were open,” Etokudo recounted. “They snatched and stuffed ballot boxes, foreclosed the use of Smart Card Readers, brutalised INEC ad hoc personnel and prevented voters from exercising their franchise.”

With the conviction of Professor Ogban, there are important lessons for all stakeholders in the electoral process. I have observed elections in numerous countries, including within the continent, and I never witness the kind of desperation I see in Nigeria where almost every actor is attempting to game the exercise. The challenge is now on how we can resolve a problem that is both systemic and pervasive. Why should our elections be conducted almost like war? Closure of borders, shutdown of businesses and offices, restrictions of movement, deployment of a disproportionate number of police and security personnel as well as military troops etc.

There are so many issues we need to deal with, including how long and difficult it is to prosecute electoral offenders. This case started six years ago and may still reach the Supreme Court. In the immediate, to restore integrity to the ballot box, we must ensure that there are consequences for bad behaviour. The watchword here is accountability. The moment electoral officers know that ‘lending a helping hand’ to politicians can land them in jail, they will think twice before getting involved in such malpractices.

Koyinsola @ 50

Ms Koyinsola Olukoya, a director with Kapital Communications, will be 50 on Saturday. Perhaps so that we would not eat Jollof rice, she decided to ‘Japa’ out of Abuja. Koyinsola has been the biggest supporter of my wife’s Not Forgotten Initiative (NFI) School which provides free education for more than a hundred underserved children in Abuja. She pays the tuition fees for the NFI extension students in secondary schools and also visits them. I wish ‘Momo Mayowa’ happy birthday, long life and good health.

As early as 5:00 am today, May 7, 2025, I found myself immersed in the online edition of the Lusaka Times, a Zambian newspaper I read frequently to broaden my understanding of African politics. Among the stories I stumbled upon was a thought-provoking piece titled “Staging Defections Is an Outdated Way of Doing Politics.”

The moment I read through the story, I was subconsciously drawn into a deep reflection on Nigeria’s political landscape. With a sigh, I whispered to myself: “What an irony!” Here I was, reading about a country where political defection, long a dominant feature in Nigeria’s political scene, is now regarded as outdated and archaic.

The story quoted Reagan Kashinga, the Socialist Party’s Copperbelt Provincial Vice Chairperson and spokesperson, who criticized Zambia’s ruling United Party for National Development (UPND) for orchestrating defections from opposition parties to create a façade of popularity. In his words, “Staging defections is an outdated way of doing politics.” That simple sentence hit me like a thunderbolt, considering how in Nigeria, defections are still seen as the lifeblood of political maneuvering.

Kashinga’s bold assertion is a sharp contrast to what we see in Nigeria, where defections are not only common but celebrated like national achievements. Each time a politician defects, especially to the ruling party, it is treated like a major news event, accompanied by colorful ceremonies, media fanfare, and carefully worded speeches filled with promises and sycophancy. The crowd is usually hired, the ‘defectors’ are recycled, and the promises made often fizzle out before the ink dries on the press release.

Unlike Zambia, where at least some voices still raise alarms about the moral and democratic implications of defections, Nigeria has become a haven for political carpet-crossing. There is hardly a political season in Nigeria without mass defections. A senator elected under Party A today will jump to Party B tomorrow if things don’t go his way, and then return to Party A the next week if offered the right incentives.

Let us not sugarcoat it: political defection in Nigeria is not a strategy for ideological realignment, it is a strategy for personal survival. It is not driven by conviction but by convenience. It has little or nothing to do with public interest, but everything to do with private gain.

The trend has become so pervasive that Nigerian voters barely bat an eyelid when a politician dumps one party for another. We have grown accustomed to seeing supposed “opposition leaders” sit comfortably at the table with ruling party chieftains after changing jerseys mid-match, so to speak. The defector often justifies the move by claiming they want to “join hands to develop the country” or “align with the vision of the President,” yet, development remains elusive, and the vision remains blurred.

Political defection in Nigeria is not just a trend; it has become a theater of absurdity. Consider the fact that in the run-up to every election cycle, there is a frenzy of defections, almost like a migration season in the animal kingdom. It is common to see political leaders switching allegiances without regard for the mandates given to them by their constituents. Nobody resigns to recontest under a new party. The seat, once won, is treated as personal property, regardless of the party platform on which it was secured.

Take the example of a former Speaker or Senate President switching parties on the eve of an election, dragging along dozens of lawmakers. These political gymnasts often go on to win re-election, not because the people support their antics, but because of the massive state resources deployed to buy votes and suppress opposition.

Ironically, these defections are not limited to the legislative class. Governors, former ministers, and even presidential aspirants routinely dump parties for the ruling coalition once they sense the tides are no longer in their favor. What should be condemned as betrayal of public trust is hailed as political “realignment.”

Back to Zambia, where Mr. Kashinga called the bluff of the ruling UPND’s staged defections, labelling them as archaic and deceitful. He challenged the government to instead address critical issues such as load shedding, cost of living, and economic reforms. His words were not only brave but insightful. He reminded the political elite that the only meaningful way to gain popularity is by performance, not propaganda.

Contrast this with Nigeria, where politicians still believe that defecting to the ruling party is the only way to retain relevance, avoid prosecution, or secure juicy appointments. Public service has become transactional. Politics has become a chessboard of selfish ambitions.

The Zambian political class may not be perfect, but if at least some of their voices are now calling out the futility of political defection as a popularity tool, then they are ahead of Nigeria in political maturity.

Let us face the truth: Nigerian voters are partly to blame for this menace. Our political culture still worships personalities over principles. We cheer politicians who defect to “our side,” forgetting that their loyalty lies not with the people, but with their pockets.

Until the average voter begins to ask tough questions, about ideology, performance, consistency, and commitment, we will continue to be victims of recycled leaders who lack vision and integrity.

We must begin to reject defectors unless they can convincingly demonstrate that their move is based on policy alignment rather than personal gain. We must demand laws that mandate elected officials to vacate their seats if they switch parties without clear justifications tied to public interest. The courts must stop enabling political prostitution under the guise of technicalities.

That a country like Zambia, a fellow African democracy, is boldly calling out defections as outdated should be a wake-up call to Nigeria. What we are celebrating here is being condemned elsewhere. What we see as strategy is seen as shame.

The time has come for us to ask ourselves: What exactly do we want from our politicians? Is it loyalty to party lines, or loyalty to the people? Is it jumping ship for survival, or standing firm for service?

As 2027 approaches, the Nigerian electorate must take notes from Zambia. It is time we stopped celebrating political defections and started demanding political direction. The real defection we need is a defection from backwardness, impunity, and mediocrity to responsibility, accountability, and progress.

What an irony indeed!

In a country where ethnic identity often becomes entangled in political manipulation, historical revisionism, and administrative convenience, very few voices rise with clarity, courage, and consistency. One of such rare voices is Barrister Gloria Adagbon, a lawyer, trained journalist, politician, and a relentless advocate for the Igbanke people. In a recent media parleys with this writer, that have reverberated across Edo State and beyond, she has firmly declared a truth that many have either attempted to distort or have been too afraid to voice: “Igbanke is Ika, not Benin.”

Her pronouncement is not a mere slogan; it is a declaration backed by history, culture, language, and lived experience. In fact, it is a call to reject forced identity, reclaim ancestral heritage, and reaffirm self-determination.

The Igbanke community, comprising six distinct settlements, sits in Edo State but culturally aligns with the Ika-speaking people of Delta State. For decades, this simple truth has been muddied by both political interests and historical misinterpretations. While some argue that proximity to the ancient Benin Kingdom justifies affiliation, others push back with cultural and linguistic evidence.

The confusion is not trivial. Identity shapes administrative inclusion, cultural recognition, and developmental attention. In the case of Igbanke, these issues are more than theoretical, they are the lived realities of marginalization, underdevelopment, and exclusion. It is in this context that Barrister Gloria Adagbon has emerged as a warrior of truth.

In her interview with this writer, Adagbon did not mince words: “Let me begin by stating clearly: “We are who we are!” Igbanke is Ika. Ethnic nationality should never be coerced or forcefully imposed.”

She made a striking comparison that cuts through the political noise: “Just because someone bears a Bini name does not mean they are Bini. By that logic, an American bearing an English name would be considered English, which we know is not true.”

Her argument dismantles the colonial mindset that equates nomenclature and geography with ethnicity. Names, she insists, do not define belonging; language, culture, and ancestry do.

She continues: “My surname may be Adagbon or even Omoruyi from my maternal side, but I do not understand a word of Bini. The language we grow up with, the one we speak from birth, is Ika. So tell me, how do you belong to a kingdom or community when you do not even understand the language?”

More than a cultural debate, the issue of Igbanke’s identity is deeply political. Gloria recounts a moment that captures the alienation: “I once visited a community in Orhionmwon, which is supposedly my local government area, and I could not understand the language spoken. I had to get someone to translate for me. I felt completely out of place.”

But the alienation is not just linguistic. It is administrative, developmental, and political. Despite having a significant population and cultural coherence, Igbanke remains without its own Local Government Area (LGA).

“It is a frustrating one,” she says. “Igbanke is made up of six communities, and by all standards… we are capable of having our own local government. Yet, every call for the creation of an Igbanke LGA has been ignored.”

She does not sugarcoat the facts: “Since Edo State was created, what has been done for the Igbanke community? Where is the impact on our development or welfare?”

One of the most powerful refrains from Adagbon’s interviews is her outright rejection of identity imposition: “Ethnic nationality is not something that should be imposed. It is insulting and frankly condescending for anyone to try and force their identity onto us.”

She places the Igbanke kingship within its rightful cultural context: “Our kings inherited their thrones from their forefathers. They are autonomous, sovereign, and not under any other kingdom.”

In the follow-up interview, she goes even further, drawing from Nigeria’s colonial history to explain how administrative convenience has long overridden indigenous reality:

“Before Flora Shaw even named Nigeria, the various peoples and communities were already here, living their lives with their own systems… The British didn’t create us; they merely grouped us together for their convenience.”

“Whatever administrative structures or influences the Benin Empire extended… do not and cannot redefine our ethnic identity.”

Adagbon’s insight is not born of sentiment; it is built on research, history, and a deep understanding of her people’s cultural heritage. She calmly challenges attempts to distort Igbanke’s history: “There are indeed different schools of thought about the origin of Igbanke… But when you critically examine these historical narratives, it becomes clear that our forebears were the indigenous settlers of our present land.”

She is aware of the imperial footprint that Benin left during its height, but she makes the crucial distinction: “Yes, the Benin Empire’s influence… touched many areas… But that was purely for governance, not a redefinition of who we are. Nigeria today is a nation, not an empire.”

Ultimately, her goal is not just to win an argument. It is to bring peace, clarity, and pride to the Igbanke people: “Our identity is settled and not up for negotiation.”

“My hope, my prayer, really, is that all of this recent attention will bring a permanent end to the debate.”

She speaks not only as a lawyer or politician but as a daughter of the soil, one whose lived experience embodies the story she defends.

In a nation where historical narratives are constantly revised to suit present political interests, the fight for identity becomes both revolutionary and redemptive. Barrister Gloria Adagbon’s voice rings out like a clarion call, not just for the Igbanke people, but for every community that has ever been told they are something they are not.

Her insistence that identity is not determined by power, but by heritage, language, and tradition is both timeless and timely. In an era of rising cultural erasure and administrative marginalization, voices like hers are desperately needed.

In many ways, Barrister Gloria Adagbon is not just fighting for Igbanke, she is fighting for the soul of ethnic integrity in Nigeria. She reminds us that the right to self-definition is sacred, that culture is not up for political auction, and that history must be told by those who lived it, not those who seek to rewrite it.

Barrister Gloria Adagbon is, without a doubt, an Amazon, a fearless defender of her people’s truth. She embodies the courage, intellect, and determination needed to challenge systemic misrepresentation. In reclaiming the Ika identity for Igbanke, she has reminded us all of a simple yet powerful truth:

“We are who we are. Igbanke is Ika. Full stop.” Her voice is more than advocacy, it is history refusing to be silenced.

It was Nobel Laureate Wole Soyinka who sometime ago introduced  the sarcasm of “please quote me in my own words” into the public sphere. The irony should be obvious: how else could a man be quoted except in his own words?  Soyinka has employed  the phrase to respond to the  frequent attribution of false statements  to him by unscrupulous elements who attempt  to rig legitimacy into their views by giving those positions the Soyinka signature. Unforunately, the activities  of persons “quoting” Soyinka in their own  words have not abated in the permissive world of  social media. This trend  triggered the publication of the series entitled “Interventions,”  by which Soyinka now  responds to specific topics of public debate.

In fact, long before the advent of the social media, some eminent public figures were not content with speaking to reporters  when granting interviews. They would insist on writing their responses to the questions from media houses. 

Perhaps, former governor of Jigawa State and one-time foreign minister, Alhaji Sule Lamido, had in mind  this extreme distortion of history arising from the perversion in the social sphere when he embarked on writing his memoirs entitled “Being True to Myself.”

 By writing his own story, Lamido has offered history a self-definition of his political personality. This book will  remain clearly distinguishable from other versions of the Lamido story  which may be told by others. To that extent he has done a great justice to himself and posterity. In other words, Lamido may not need to plead henceforth  that “quote me in my own words.”

Not many Nigerian politicians can lay claim to political traditions. Yet there are identifiable political traditions of different origins  in the history of  Nigerian politics. Lamido is indisputably among the view   politicians that could be traced to a political tradition that is undeniably progressive. And he is very proud of this background. A man of organisation, Lamido is also among the vanishing breed of politicians who take the  fidelity to political parties seriously. To be sure, if there is one politician who would not defect from the People’s Democratic Party (PDP), that politician is certainly Sule Lamido, the prince from Bamaina in Jigawa state!  As one of the founders of the PDP, Lamido has remained committed to the party through thick and thin of the stormy waters of Nigerian politics. The progressive streak  has been discernible in Lamido’s politics all through his career. In the Second Republic he was elected to the House of Representatives on the platform of the People’s Redemption Party (PRP), a party that had the heritage of the Northern Elements Progressive Union (NEPU) whose leader was the legendary populist, Mallam Aminu Kano. To the people, NEPU was simply the party of the “talakawa,” the poor. During the transition programme of President Ibrahim Babangida, Lamido was elected the national secretary of the “little to the left” Social Democratic Party (SDP). In this dispensation the PDP cannot, of course,  be accused of being a party of the Left. Yet Lamido, as a PDP governor in Jigawa did something that was reminiscent of his NEPU political ancestry. Long before the idea of cash transfer as a social protection instrument was embraced by the  federal government, Lamido’s administration in Jigawa had a programme of giving stipend to the most vulnerable in the state based an authentic social register. The programme expectedly generated an avalanche of criticisms from the right-wing  elite who argued that the money given to the poor could be better invested in cottage industries and other economic alternatives. Lamido countered the technicist arguments on a philosophical basis. He explained that the organising principle underlying the programme was the respect for the dignity of human person and not economic calculus. In any case, the beneficiaries were living on begging; some of them without limbs were carried in wheelbarrows  to line the streets. Such persons were not in the position to engage in productive activities even if the jobs were available. The idea of the cash transfer was to keep the beggars off the streets while the stipend is taken to the poor  in a dignified manner.  Here we are talking of the  poorest of the poor. Anyone who was  already a dependant on another person, who earning income, was disqualified from receiving the stipend because of  limited resources.

Such is the nature of the politics of Lamido whose  autobiography will be launched in Abuja next Tuesday.

The composition of the committee organising the book launch says something about the breadth of  Lamido’s politics.

The committee chaired  by Senator Mustapha Khabeeb has Dr. Aminu Abdullahi Taura as secretary. Other distinguished members of the organising committee are Senator Ibrahim Musa Kazaure, Ambassador Joe Keshi, Ambassador John Shankaiye, Hon. Musa Elayo,  Iyom Josephine Anenih, Hajiya Inna Ciroma, Hajiya Zainab Maina, Professor Tijjani Naniya, Dr. Max Ndugi Abe, Dr. Auwalu Anwar, Dr. Akilu Sani Indabawa, Alhaji Mustapha Sule Lamido, Dr. Babandi Ibrahim, Prof. Nu’uman, Alhaji Ahmed Amin, Alhaji Ismaila Omipidan, Umar Kyari Jitau and Umar Danjani.

Below is a  foretaste of the book launch  given yesterday at a press conference  by Senator  Khabeeb:

“Sule Lamido’s autobiography, for which he gives the intriguing title BEING TRUE TO MYSELF, takes the reader through a  revealing story on the making of what he has become today – a versatile, au courant, urbane, cosmopolitan, knowledgeable, dynamic, highly principled and dedicated leader and public servant who has given his all towards the making of modern-day Nigeria. As an elder statesman now, Sule Lamido has done well to document this revealing and remarkable experience, which has taken him to the nooks and corners of our country and beyond. He revealed how this has enabled him to build an enormous clientele of friendship and association with people from all parts of the country and internationally. His calling initially in the private sector before joining the political fray revealed itself in his rich pattern of relationships.

“It is worthwhile for everyone to recognize that Sule Lamido’s character and disposition took root from his typically innocent Fulani nature of truthfulness, of seeing life with pure simplicity devoid of flamboyance or pretence. But, it is also a disposition of not being given to condescending or patronising attitude from anyone – no matter their social standing. His is a character that has also been moulded and imbued with a sense of honour, sincerity and honesty, typical of a blue blood pedigree.

“Viewed from this antecedent, Sule can easily be excused for his bold, blunt truthfulness when it comes to speaking his mind on any given issue, to anybody, no matter how highly placed.

“President Olusegun Obasanjo discovered these attributes early in Sule and probably was one reason for the enormous confidence he had in him to make Sule Nigeria’s Foreign Affairs Minister.

“Besides writing a foreword to BEING TRUE TO MYSELF, the former President is also the Special Guest of Honour at next Tuesday’s occasion.

“So, did the author of BEING TRUE TO MYSELF have a central role and say in all other political arrangements that culminated in the formation of the Peoples Democratic Party? Indeed, Sule was a founding member who has tenaciously stuck with the party to this day.

“Many other colleagues of his have since switched camps, some several times. Sule Lamido, Muhammadu Abubakar Rimi, Dr Iyorchia Ayu , the book reviewer next Tuesday, all played key roles at the Jos Convention which produced Obasanjo as the presidential candidate and later as President of the Federal Republic of Nigeria in 1999.

“BEING TRUE TO MYSELF will surely resonate not only with students of history and politics,  but with every Nigerian who still believes in the politics of principles and the promise of a better Nigeria.”

Doubtless, Lamido’s autobiograpghy is a welcome addition to the corpus of memoirs of those individuals who have played significant roles in the  making (and unmaking?) of Nigeria. This is more so given the shallowness often displayed in the public shere about even the recent history of the nation. There are indeed untold stories of Nigeria. How enriching would it have been to history if General Yakubu Gowon and Dim Emeka Odumegwu-Ojukwu  could write their respective memoirs  on the civil war. Those who have stories to tell should write from their various perspectives. President Muhammadu Buhari, who was in charge of the Nigerian state cumulatively for nine years and  eight months, said he would not write his memoirs because doing so would make  some people unhappy. On the contrary, from whatever prism through which Babangida’s memoirs, “A Journey in Service: An Autobiography,”  is read, the point is  that the former president has told his own story. And he is very lucky to do so. 

This reporter, as a  member of  a three-man  team which interviewed Babangida 27 years ago in Minna, posed the question of what the general thought  the verdict of history would be on him in the light of the criticisms from various quarters. Babangida’s response was that there would be many versions of the history. Now, it is difficult to fault that assertion, which is far from being cryptic as the former president is often described.

Some philosophers of history object to Thomas Carlyle’s argument that  the “history of the world is the biograpghy of great men.”   Yet, it is indubitable that the insights and arguments  from the  various biographies of individuals who have played important  roles in history  would constitute some of the  veritable materials to be used by professional historians for the  construction of a grand history of Nigeria.

Here lies the significance of Lamido’s memoirs.

So, saying congratulations to Alhaji Sule Lamido will be in order.