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Nigeria, the most populous nation in Africa, is endowed with an abundance of natural resources, including crude oil, natural gas, coal, iron ore, and tin, among others. Despite being the largest oil producer in Africa and the 12th largest in the world, the country's citizens continue to grapple with the irony of fuel scarcity, high prices, and its far-reaching consequences on the economy and daily life. This article delves into the complexities of Nigeria's fuel situation, its impact on the citizens, and proposes solutions to address this perennial problem.
The Oil Paradox
Nigeria's oil industry, which accounts for approximately 90% of the country's foreign exchange earnings, has been a significant contributor to its economic growth. However, the benefits of this natural resource have not trickled down to the masses. The country's refineries operate below capacity, leading to a reliance on imported fuel to meet the demand. This dependence on imports, coupled with inadequate infrastructure and inefficient distribution networks, results in frequent fuel scarcity and high prices.
Consequences of Fuel Scarcity
The effects of fuel scarcity are multifaceted and far-reaching, impacting various sectors of the economy and daily life. Some of the consequences include:
1. Economic Contraction: Fuel scarcity leads to increased transportation costs, which in turn affect the prices of goods and services. This results in higher inflation rates, reduced economic growth, and decreased productivity.
2. Business Disruption: Fuel scarcity forces businesses to operate at reduced capacity or shut down temporarily, leading to lost revenue, reduced employment opportunities, and decreased economic activity.
3. Increased Transportation Fares: With fuel scarcity, transportation costs skyrocket, making it difficult for people to commute to work, school, or other essential activities.
4. Social Unrest: Fuel scarcity often leads to long queues at fuel stations, causing frustration and social unrest among citizens.
5. Environmental Impact: The reliance on generators and other alternative energy sources during fuel scarcity periods contributes to environmental pollution and health hazards.
6. Inefficient Resource Allocation: The focus on fuel importation and distribution diverts resources away from other critical sectors, such as education, healthcare, and infrastructure development.
Solutions to Nigeria's Fuel Plight
To address the fuel scarcity and high prices, Nigeria must adopt a multifaceted approach that involves short-term and long-term strategies.
Short-term Solutions:
1. Diversification of Energy Sources: Encourage the use of alternative energy sources like solar, wind, and hydroelectric power to reduce reliance on fossil fuels.
2. Improved Refinery Capacity: Invest in upgrading and expanding existing refineries to increase domestic fuel production and reduce import dependence.
3. Efficient Distribution Networks: Develop and maintain efficient fuel distribution networks to minimize transportation costs and reduce scarcity.
4. Fuel Subsidy Reform: Implement a targeted fuel subsidy program to benefit only the most vulnerable citizens, rather than the current blanket subsidy approach.
5. Price Regulation: Establish a price regulation mechanism to prevent arbitrary price hikes and ensure fair pricing.
Long-term Solutions:
1. Deregulation of the Downstream Sector: Encourage private sector participation in the refining, marketing, and distribution of petroleum products to promote competition and efficiency.
2. Investment in Infrastructure: Develop critical infrastructure, such as roads, railways, and waterways, to facilitate the transportation of fuel and reduce costs.
3. Renewable Energy Development: Invest in renewable energy sources, such as solar and wind power, to reduce dependence on fossil fuels and promote sustainable energy development.
4. Energy Conservation: Implement energy conservation measures, such as efficient lighting and appliances, to reduce energy consumption.
5. Human Capacity Development: Invest in education and training programs to develop the skills and expertise needed to manage the energy sector effectively.
Conclusion
Nigeria's fuel conundrum is a complex issue that requires a comprehensive approach to address. By implementing short-term and long-term solutions, the country can reduce its reliance on imported fuel, increase domestic production, and promote sustainable energy development. It is only by tackling this perennial problem that Nigeria can unlock its full economic potential and provide a better life for its citizens.
“Has the Ooni ever told the president that the worst road in the universe leads to his kingdom? Has he told the president that the N79.8 billion contract for the reconstruction of Ibadan-Ife-Ilesa road awarded in September, 2019 by his friend and villa mate, Muhammadu Buhari, has remained a contract for ghosts? Has he invited the president’s attention to the truth that since last year when he took over, the road has sunk even deeper in the mire of decrepitude? And, that even FERMA, a perennially rich agency that pretends giving palliatives on federal roads, has since seen the futility of stitching this rag? Or could it be that Kabiyesi does what our presidents since 1999 do – escaping road users’ pains by flying over our heads”?
One day, I will have the courage to ask the immaculate Ooni of Ife, Oba Enitan Ogunwusi, how he feels each time he travels on the horrible Ibadan-Ife road. Ben Okri, ‘The Famished Road’ storyteller, finds his own ‘road’ a torment – he says it “leads home and then away from it, without end.” Okri thinks the road a torment because he meets it “with too many signs and no direction.” The Ife-Ibadan road has signs, it has directions – and I find them very treacherously significant because they interlock fingers while road users lose life and limbs. The road has signs and directions to the very bowel of hell.
Olojo, the guardian divinity of the House of Oduduwa, is the famed owner of two machetes: with one machete, he prepares the field for the plants of tomorrow; with the other, he clears the road for prosperity (Ó fì’kan sán’ko/ Ó fì kan yè’nà). Those weapons must either now be blunt or lost. An Odu Ifa tells us something about Ile Ife and roads. It affirms that well-paved open roads start from Ile Ife. That affirmation today can only be treated on the operating theatre of irony. Could it be that truth has an expiry date and Ogbe’s truth of good, open roads in Ile Ife has expired? What we see today from the capital of Yorubaland (Ibadan) to the historical source of Yoruba people is the torment of a closed road that mocks the pathfinder-spirit of Oduduwa. The road does worse with its gaping craters and their threats of morphing into greater gullies. And it is a federal road.
Has the Ooni ever told the president that the worst road in the universe leads to his kingdom? Has he told the president that the N79.8 billion contract for the reconstruction of Ibadan-Ife-Ilesa road awarded in September, 2019 by his friend and villa mate, Muhammadu Buhari, has remained a contract for ghosts? Has he invited the president’s attention to the truth that since last year when he took over, the road has sunk even deeper in the mire of decrepitude? And, that even FERMA, a perennially rich agency that pretends giving palliatives on federal roads, has since seen the futility of stitching this rag? Or could it be that Kabiyesi does what our presidents since 1999 do – escaping road users’ pains by flying over our heads?
The reigning culture here is rooted in the ragged soils of our toil. I admit that badness is not peculiar to the Ife-Ibadan-Ilesa road. It is a national affliction that can’t be cured because of the greed of doctors who treat sick roads with fake and expired drugs.
We work hard to build roads that wear out before they are inaugurated. We have the interminable construction mess called Lagos-Ibadan Expressway. When did construction start there? When will it end – if it will ever end? How much have we sunk there? And, is it not a shame that the road is ready already for corrective surgery even before its makers are done making it? If you are a woman, and you are pregnant and your doctor tells you dancing is a ‘safe and fun way to exercise’, do not dance to the break beats of that road. It is made for abortion.
Ben Okri says “all roads lead to death” and “some roads lead to things which can never be finished.” Is that why our federal government’s roads are forever ongoing, none is ever finished or completed? Federal government’s statistics says out of Nigeria’s national road network of 200,000 kilometers, 36,289 km belong to it. Now, you ask Abuja which of its other roads, apart from the one from the Villa to Abuja airport, is good? Ask them why almost all roads that wear federal tags suffer neglect, abandonment or crass abuse.
My NYSC journey to the far north 34 years ago was on the Ibadan-Ilorin-Jebba-Mokwa-Yauri road. It was an experience in pleasantness. It is, today, a monument to frustration, a shrine to demons that feed on losses -human and material. The Ibadan-Oyo-Ogbomoso part of that road is one major reason why Nigeria should not have a federal government – or have roads managed by the Federal Government. There should be a coroner’s inquest on why that road was killed and who killed it. Without the states, the vehicle of Nigeria would have long lost its chassis. States keep doing what heart surgeons do when arteries are found blocked. They create bypasses, byways. A brand new 78-kilometre Iseyin-Ogbomosho road has just been built by Seyi Makinde’s Oyo State to escape the Federal Government’s death trap along that axis. A commenter online wrote: “The road has helped us to link northern Nigeria without using the dangerous Oyo-Ilorin road that has consumed so many lives…” The Oyo-Ilorin road of death spoken of here belongs to the government in Abuja.
Potholes jolt us to appreciate what bad roads represent in our lives. They tell us why the tyres of our country never last and why our rides are forever bumpy. Asking questions on why our roads are perennially bad is living the times of Ayi Kwei Armah’s ‘Two Thousand Seasons’: “A thousand seasons wasted wandering amazed along alien roads, another thousand spent finding paths to the living way.” Like Ouroboros, the self-tail-devourer, Nigeria’s ‘alien roads’ cyclically keep consuming the ‘living way.’
It is time to pound yam for the household, the idler among us goes for the heaviest pestle. This is better said in Yoruba: Òle bàá tì, ó gb’ódó nlá. There are abandoned federal roads everywhere which directly affect millions of Nigerians, but the government has moved the money to a 700km super coastal highway that will cost N15.6 trillion. The first phase is 47 kilometres, starting somewhere and ending nowhere, at a cost of N1.06 trillion. Should I just say that that N1 trillion will start and complete the reconstruction of decrepit Ibadan-Ife-Ilesa Road (224km), Ilorin to Bida (244.9km) and Shagamu to Benin (492km) if wisdom wills? Even at an inflated cost of N1 billion per kilometre, our husbands will achieve these and will even ‘collect change’. And Tinubu would have become very popular with it. But he wants a white elephant and has moved our money to purchase it.
White elephants are always expensive! Poet and journalist, Mathew Wills, in his ‘The Original White Elephant’ defines ‘white elephant’ as “something excessive that turns out to be valueless.” James A. Robinson and Ragnar Torvik in 2005 published an interesting article about the third world and deliberate bad investments – they titled their article: ‘White Elephants’. In that piece, they hold that politicians around here would always go for “white elephants” as against “socially efficient projects” because “the political benefits are large compared to the surplus generated by efficient projects.” That piece says much more than this. It is published in the Journal of Public Economics 89 (2005: 197-210). I think you should read it.
‘The Stolen White Elephant’ by Mark Twain is an interesting story on the cost of investing in big, expensive loss centres. It is the story of a fictional Kingdom of Siam. A reviewer says Siam is blessed with a “national appetite for fraud”. Another says it has officers of “pompous assumption of infallibility and ridiculous inappropriate procedures.” The “pointless” story is about an expensive search for a stolen white elephant, a further loss of hundreds of thousands of dollars in compensation and the eventual discovery of the rotting corpse of the supposedly stolen animal. The story ends with the duped narrator celebrating the man who duped him. It ends as the man pronounces himself “a ruined man and a wanderer in the earth.” In Studies in American Humour, Peter Messent (1995) does a lot of justice to it in his ‘Keeping Both Eyes Open.’ The whole story sounds Nigerian; what Fela called “expensive shit.” But I can argue that though we wander today, the past was a better experience.
“How can you develop a country rapidly if you can’t get about it?” Sir Rex Niven, pre-independence Speaker of Northern Nigeria House of Assembly, asked that question 69 years ago in relation to the state of roads in Nigeria. On January 27, 1955, Riven was asked to brief the Royal African Society and the Royal Empire Society in London on “Recent Developments in Nigeria.” He gave a very detailed account of himself as a British participant in the affairs of a key component of the Nigerian federation. Sector by sector, he spoke about efforts and failures. He particularly spoke on roads which he described as “the most important of the great aspects of development.” He said as he was speaking (in 1955), Nigeria had over 30,000 miles of roads whereas in 1920, “she had hardly any at all.” Then he used Kabba (in present Kogi State) to illustrate what he was saying: “The first province I went to, the newly constituted Kabba Province, had exactly 4 miles of road…but when I left Kabba four years later, there were over 200 miles of road.” Thirteen years later, the same Niven, in retirement, told the Commonwealth section of the Royal African Society on 11 November, 1969 that Nigeria had 40,000 miles of quality roads. That figure was even in spite of the ongoing civil war. Now, you ask: Why are our golden years always in the past? The past was obviously better handled.
There has been no remarkable uproar on the public-school collapse in Nigeria, affecting primary, secondary, and university education. Our leaders do not view it as a crisis. The reason is evident: there is a widespread trend among the garrulous upper class and middle class to send their wards and children to pricey private schools in Nigeria, with most of them sending their kids abroad. This dislocation between the elite class and public schools means that they are not only unmoved by its decay, but sometimes they are not even aware of the extent of the problem.
Increasingly, public school is becoming the domain of low-income people who need more resources to send their children to good private schools. Good education is no longer affordable and is a class issue in Nigeria today. The paradox is that today’s elite and middle class are products of a robust public school system that existed between the 1930s and 1990s in Nigeria. During these golden years of public school in Nigeria, it provided an environment that allowed individuals of different socioeconomic backgrounds to interact with one another while removing barriers based on race, class, and religion. These schools also provided young Nigerians with the life skills they need to be self-sufficient and productive, and many of the products of this public school system became global giants and are still making waves worldwide and nationally in various fields of human endeavour. Quality public education has been steadily declining, particularly since the 1980s, which has led to the nearly total collapse of the system we have in place today. There has been a discernible drop in our public school system’s overall level of instruction since the 2000s, which has alarmed the populace.
Nigeria has faced numerous challenges in providing quality public education for all its citizens. Economic downturns, political instability, corruption, and conflicts harm the education sector. Over the years, various education policies and reforms have been implemented to address the sector’s challenges. These include the Universal Basic Education (UBE) programme, which provides free and compulsory education for all children up to junior secondary school level, and efforts to promote technical and vocational education to address skills gaps. Despite these efforts, significant disparities in access to quality education persist. The failure of public education in Nigeria has been a longstanding issue, marked by various challenges and setbacks that have hindered the system’s ability to provide quality education.
These challenges include chronic underfunding of the public education sector, a significant issue in Nigeria. We know that government spending on education has varied over the years, but it has often fallen short of recommended benchmarks such as the UNESCO-recommended 15-20% of the national budget. This lack of funding has resulted in inadequate infrastructure and a shortage of qualified teachers and essential educational resources. Second, there is a lack or insufficiency of essential infrastructure, including classrooms, libraries, labs, and restrooms in public schools. Dilapidated buildings, overcrowded classrooms, and unconducive learning environment make it difficult for students to learn effectively and for teachers to deliver quality instruction. Third, the quality of teaching in public schools is often compromised due to factors such as inadequate teacher training, low motivation, miserable wage , and poor working conditions. Fourth, the curriculum used in public schools is only sometimes relevant to the needs of students or the demands of the modern world. It may lack emphasis on critical thinking, problem-solving, and practical skills essential for success today. Fifth, the disparities in access to education persist in Nigeria, with rural and marginalised communities often having limited access to quality schools and educational resources. Sixth, corruption and mismanagement within the education sector are our albatross. Funds earmarked for education may be misappropriated or embezzled, leading to a lack of accountability and transparency in the use of resources. It is little wonder that many state governments claim to make public education the centrepiece of their administration’s targets, yet little or no improvement is seen.
Addressing these issues requires concerted efforts from the government, civil society, the private sector, and international partners. But it also requires the active participation and support of each one of us. Priority should be given to increasing investment in education, improving teacher training and welfare, upgrading infrastructure, revising the curriculum to be more relevant and inclusive, and promoting access to education for all, especially marginalised groups. Additionally, efforts to tackle corruption and promote good governance are essential for building a more effective and sustainable public education system in Nigeria. Ironically, governments at both federal and state levels have paid lip service to public education over the years, leading to the rise of the private education sector to fill the gap. Although millions of children with no other option still receive their education in public schools, they are no longer the place teachers and students fervently desire to be. The clamour for private schools has led to the exponential rise in Nigeria’s private primary, secondary and tertiary schools. We, as citizens, as parents, as educators, as policymakers, have a role to play in reversing this trend and revitalizing our public education system.
A cursory look at statistics will show any keen observer that we are in a dangerous place with our future generation, most of whom will not get any meaningful education. We are cheaply mortgaging the future by continuing to underinvest in public schools. All we are doing is laying the groundwork for society to fail. It is not appropriate to do so. For instance, from 2018 to 2020, enrolment in primary school declined by 62,000 or 0.3% (from 22,384,755 to 22,322,234) in public schools but increased by about 82,000 or 1.51% (5,504,632 to 5,587,528) in private schools. Likewise, enrolment in public secondary schools increased by about 18% between 2016 and 2019, while in private secondary schools the increase is about 56%. Besides, the student-to-teacher ratio in public primary schools is about 1:49 (against the 1:35 recommended, while it is significantly lower, at about 1:30, in private primary schools. Relatively, more private schools are popping up in big cities than public schools, and the numbers are almost getting even in some cities. This trend is expected to continue this way unless there is a significant intervention to stop the decline in public school enrolment, especially in urban areas with substantial upper- and middle-class families. The urgency of the situation cannot be overstated. We must act now to save our public education system.
The problem with private education often is the cost. Quality education costs are so high that only a few Nigerians can afford it. Recently, some Nigerians were abhorred by the news of the cost of fees of British Charterhouse School (N43 million per annum) for its students. Most did not know that the school had a waiting list of over 1000 when it initially wanted only about 200 pupils. Other decent private schools cost millions of Naira yearly, and parents struggle to cover these costs. Ironically, private schools are not only about quality of education but also about class distinction. It is assumed that the more expensive the school is, the better the quality. Unfortunately, the current situation is a shift of emphasis to expensive private primary, secondary and tertiary education at the expense of public institutions. The solution lies in a conscious public sector policy revision that encourages a renewal of the public education sector through curriculum renewal, teacher retraining, infrastructure renewal and renovation. For instance, when former Governor Rotimi Amaechi of Rivers State revamped and modernised public schools with up-to-date modern facilities, parents began to return their wards to public schools that had become competitive with even the best private schools. Most recently I got involved in helping two state governments asses the state of education and I just wept but I could feel the seriousness and determination of the affected governors to fix the broken system.
I applaud the president’s plan to census the Nigerian school system to create the primary data for education planning and development. I sincerely hope that the federal and state governments give serious attention to our public education sector. No template exists in the world where a country develops its human resources through private education. All the developed countries we know of developed and sustained a robust quality public education system that is inclusive, equitable, and of high standards. Public schools in these countries are where the children of the rich, the poor, and even the migrants interact and learn in a melting pot of family, cultural, and racial diversity. Quality primary education is a fundamental right of every Nigerian child, and the government at all levels must be held accountable for failure to provide that. Today’s children live in a highly technological and scientific globalised world, and they compete locally and globally for survival and contribute to humanity. It is a disservice to them if they lack the basic literacy, numeracy, and creative skills they need to thrive and develop in Nigeria.
Mike Adenuga is one of the brightest stars in Africa—a remarkable man who has proven his adaptability and excellence in different industries. Today, the 71-year-old Nigerian billionaire celebrates his birthday as a symbol of his continued impact and creativity.
One of the few Nigerians on this year’s Forbes World Billionaires list is Mike Adenuga. He is currently the second wealthiest man in Nigeria, having made his mark in the banking, real estate, oil and gas, telecommunications, and aviation industries. Adenuga epitomises a self-made man.
Born on April 29, 1953, in Ibadan, Nigeria, to Oloye Michael Agbolade Adenuga Snr. and Omoba Juliana Oyindamola Adenuga, Mike Adenuga’s journey began in humble surroundings, with his father a schoolteacher and his mother a businesswoman.
His educational journey began at Ibadan Grammar School, and he then earned his higher school certificate from Comprehensive High School Aiyetoro.
Despite his modest beginnings, Adenuga’s determination propelled him forward. He worked tirelessly as a taxi driver to fund his university education.
He graduated from Northwestern Oklahoma State University and Pace University with degrees in Business Administration before pursuing an MBA at Pace University in New York.
Adenuga attributes much of his success to his mother’s influence, acknowledging her role in shaping his formidable work ethic.
At 26, his relentless drive struck gold. His diverse business ventures culminated in his first million dollars, a stepping stone to his grand ambitions.
His business acumen is undeniable, as reflected in his estimated net worth of $6.7bn by Forbes. But Adenuga’s legacy extends beyond wealth. He is a true inspiration, demonstrating the power of hard work, vision, and an unwavering entrepreneurial spirit.
His diverse portfolio spans telecommunications (Globacom), oil exploration (Conoil Plc), banking (Sterling Bank), real estate (Cobble-Stone Properties), and construction (Julius Berger). Adenuga is a true “Jack of all trades” and a “master of all”.
Telecoms
Adenuga’s fearless approach to risk-taking was evident when he delved into the telecommunications industry race after Nigeria opened its doors to GSM licenses.
Despite initial setbacks, his determination remained unwavering. Eventually, in 2003, he successfully secured a license and launched Globacom.
By 2001, Adenuga had already established himself as a prominent figure in Nigeria’s economy. When the opportunity arose with the Obasanjo administration offering GSM licenses, he naturally joined the competition. Despite facing a setback and losing $20m in the process, Adenuga was resolute.
His persistence paid off handsomely as he returned stronger, securing a license that paved the way for Globacom’s emergence as a future national telecom leader.
Launched in 2003 with the ambition to become Nigeria’s telecom giant, Globacom swiftly established itself as a game-changer under Adenuga’s astute leadership.
Despite entering the market two years after its competitors, the company, propelled by Adenuga’s vision, became known for its innovative approaches.
It championed per-second billing, a revolutionary concept that democratised phone usage for Nigerians, solidifying Globacom’s status as a trailblazer in the telecommunications industry.
Globacom, with over 60 million subscribers, has continually pushed boundaries in the telecommunications industry, pioneering various network technologies such as 2.5G, 3G, and 4G LTE.
Constantly setting new standards, Globacom has been at the forefront of innovation.
One of its most significant achievements was the launch of Glo-1, a groundbreaking intercontinental submarine cable project that transformed internet connectivity in Nigeria.
With a staggering investment of $250m, solely funded by Globacom, Glo-1 marked the first of its kind in Africa.
Stretching over 9,800 kilometres, the cable links Nigeria to Europe and America, with landing points along the West African coast and Europe.
This monumental infrastructure upgrade significantly enhanced internet speed and reliability for voice, data, and video services.
Beyond its impact on individual users, Glo-1 provided vital connectivity for key sectors such as oil and gas, banking, and education.
This transformative project underscores Adenuga’s foresight and dedication to shaping Nigeria’s technological landscape.
Despite the chaos that ensued a few months ago due to a major cut in submarine cables, telecommunications subscribers across Nigeria and several other African countries found themselves in a state of panic.
There were reports that the outage, which affected internet users in South and West Africa, might continue for several weeks. Among those significantly affected were banks and telecom organisations, heavily reliant on those cables for internet services.
However, amid the turmoil, Globacom subscribers remained unaffected. They continued to enjoy uninterrupted internet connectivity and other services throughout the outage.
This resilience serves as a testament to the strength and foresight of Globacom, a company that has made substantial investments in infrastructure development.
Such an achievement directly reflects the vision of Adenuga, the founder and chairman of Globacom.
His forward-thinking approach to prioritising infrastructure has firmly positioned the company as a dependable service provider, capable of weathering unforeseen disruptions with ease
Oil and gas
His influence extends beyond the realm of telecommunications; he is also a significant figure in Nigeria’s oil and gas industry. Adenuga saw an opportunity when Gen. Ibrahim Babangida’s (retd.) administration opened the door for indigenous participation.
Despite initial hesitations, Adenuga boldly invested over $100m in exploration and drilling activities.
His gamble paid off in 1991 when Consolidated Oil, his company, achieved a historic milestone by becoming the first Nigerian company to discover and produce oil in commercial quantities.
Today, Conoil Producing Limited, formerly Consolidated Oil, stands as a trailblazer in Africa’s indigenous oil and gas exploration and production sector.
This pioneering spirit continued as Adenuga identified potential in the National Oil and Chemical Company. He acquired the company, infused it with fresh investments, and rebranded it as Conoil Plc.
Conoil’s success story is remarkable. It has become a household name in Nigeria, boasting a network of over 450 retail outlets across the country.
Adenuga’s vision and strategic investments have solidified Conoil’s position as a key player in Nigeria’s oil and gas landscape
It is a leader in modern retail formats, including mega stations and non-space pumps, and holds the top spot in the aviation fuel market.
His leadership has propelled Conoil Producing to operate six promising oil blocks in the Niger Delta, with a daily production of approximately 20,000 barrels.
Its 27-year track record is further bolstered by substantial oil reserves, estimated in millions of barrels, and vast gas reserves in trillions of cubic feet.
Adenuga’s significant stake (74.4 per cent) in Conoil Plc underscores his commitment to the company’s continued success.
Conoil’s strong market presence is built on its expertise in supplying a wide range of petroleum products, from petrol and diesel to kerosene and aviation fuel.
Its “Quatro” brand of lubricants is another testament to its diversified product line.
Banking
Adenuga’s foray into banking began with the establishment of Devcom Bank and Equitorial Trust Bank. Both institutions became trailblazers in their fields, contributing significantly to the development of the public, commercial, and retail sectors.
Their financial strength shone brightly during the 2005 banking consolidation exercise. ETB effortlessly met the N25bn capital requirement, a testament to its stability and avoiding the need for a stock market offering.
This achievement solidified their position as major players in the Nigerian financial landscape.
However, Adenuga’s vision extended beyond individual success. Recognising the potential for further consolidation, he orchestrated the strategic merger of ETB and Devcom Bank, which laid the groundwork for an even more formidable presence in the industry.
Years later, the merged entity consolidated further, joining forces with Sterling Bank Plc.
Today, Adenuga remains a significant shareholder of the resulting behemoth, Sterling Financial Holding.
This publicly traded giant, a testament to Adenuga’s astute financial strategy, operates two key subsidiaries: Sterling Bank Plc, a cornerstone of traditional commercial banking services in Nigeria, and Alternative Bank Limited, a pioneering force in Nigeria’s non-interest banking sector that offers innovative financial solutions.
Aviation
The billionaire businessman is also playing actively in Nigeria’s aviation sector. His company, Conoil, boasts an aviation arm, Conoil Aviation, actively involved in the aviation sector.
Conoil Aviation plays a key role in keeping Nigerian airplanes fuelled. It handles the entire process, from production and storage to transportation and delivery of jet fuel in at least six major airports across the country: Nnamdi Azikiwe International Airport, Abuja; Margaret Ekpo International Airport, Calabar; Mallam Aminu Kano International Airport, Kano; Murtala Muhammed International Airport, Lagos; Maiduguri International Airport, and Sokoto airport.
His foundation
Beyond his accomplishments in business, Adenuga is also well-known for his generosity and unwavering commitment to philanthropy.
His altruistic efforts have touched the lives of countless individuals and celebrities alike.
Established by the business titan, the Mike Adenuga Foundation stands as a beacon of pan-African philanthropy.
Rooted in the belief of fostering social and economic empowerment across Nigeria and other African nations, where the Mike Adenuga group of companies operates, the foundation is committed to catalysing positive transformations in these regions.
Through a diverse array of initiatives, it endeavours to harness resources, cultivate skills and knowledge, ignite innovation, drive social and economic progress, fortify infrastructure, widen educational access, improve healthcare systems, foster partnerships between nonprofits and governmental bodies, promote commerce, empower local enterprises, and elevate living standards.
At its core, the foundation prioritises critical areas such as health, rural development, education, entrepreneurship, and providing special opportunity grants.
Distinguishing itself from conventional grant-giving entities, it strategically aligns with stakeholders and beneficiaries to conceive and execute impactful programmes.
The foundation donated N500m to aid flood victims in Bayelsa State.
Through its actions and collaborations, the Mike Adenuga Foundation assumes a pivotal role in advancing philanthropy and effecting positive change across African societies.
More than just offering aid, its mission is to empower Nigerians and other Africans by creating enduring solutions that propel social and economic progress.
During the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, Adenuga demonstrated remarkable leadership by being among the first to donate N1.5bn towards combating the dreaded coronavirus scourge.
In addition to offering crucial assistance in handling the situation, his proactive initiative encouraged other Nigerians to support the cause. This exemplifies Adenuga’s characteristic leadership style: he leads by example, prompting others to follow suit.
In Adenuga’s words, “How much money can one individual or his family enjoy? You must spread it and touch lives; that is what brings true happiness and joy. What’s the point if your friend is wealthy and it doesn’t show in his friends?”
It’s not geopolitics, nepotism, or religion that will be the cause of the collapse of the largest black nation on the planet if the Nigerian state crumbles. Corruption is what’s going to make that happen if something drastic is not done before it’s too late. Countries like the People’s Republic of China execute corrupt officials and some other countries take other extreme measures to keep corruption at bay while Nigeria pays only lip service to the corruption fight.
The whole foundation of Nigeria, its identity, and its statecraft have been undermined by corruption, and the corrosion is not abating. Boundaries and red lines of statecraft have all broken down, and the country is left in free fall. The rule of law, which holds the country together as a constitutional creation, is vanishing.
In Nigeria today, justice is served to the highest bidder due to corruption. No nation that is serious about remaining cohesive, developing, and forward-thinking will tolerate the degree and kind of pervasive corruption that exists in Nigeria. In Nigeria, corruption has supplanted all norms and banished integrity from public life. Some youngsters will tell you that they want to be bandits, yahoo boys, or militants, among other unmentionables. What is more, the citizens simply carry on as if nothing can be done about corruption in Nigeria anymore.
Public service was flourishing in Nigeria before things got so bad. Then, Nigerians put in a lot of effort to achieve their wealth, credentials, and titles. Public officials, both appointed and elected, as well as those in the civil service, were guided in their acts by financial regulations and civil service rules and standards. Today, it is all about big wealth without work or morality.
Nigerians working in government were strictly governed by morality and decency in the past. However, some of them shamelessly accepted a 10% bribe for contract awards and execution. Currently, however, high-ranking government officials serve as contractors and now set the amount they desire for each contract in which they do not personally carry out the work.
Even worse, high-ranking government officials are now creating certificates of completion for projects and contracts that were never done. They then utilise registered contractors to extract funds from the treasury for these projects and contracts and divide the spoils among themselves. Yet, Nigerians feign perplexity as to why the country lacks progress, whereas the money allocated for development is syphoned off by the invading locusts. The politicians, public officials, and civil servants are syphoning off monies intended for social amenities, infrastructure, and development and have to be stopped now by the Nigerians themselves by joining the EFCC and ICPC actively in the renewed anti-corruption fight.
Things have gotten out of hand. The judiciary, which used to be the last hope of the common man, is increasingly selling judgements and injunctions, even by its admission. This inspired a well-known poet from Nigeria to recently write, “My Lord, where do I keep your bribe?”. A top Nigerian lawyer also informed me that many judges now write two judgements for the two parties in the cases they hear, and the judge’s choice of which to read ultimately comes down to who plays hardball.
Naturally, the police—whom most Nigerians accused of corruption even in the relatively good days in Nigeria—have only grown worse just as the judges have lost all interest in upholding the law. If a complainer is not prepared to pay for the investigation, no one can get his or her case looked into these days. Meanwhile, “Bail is free” is the first thing that appears printed on police station walls. You believe that at your peril. Things have gotten incredibly worse.
The current state of education is a cesspool. A lot of teachers and lecturers now give their male students marks based on how deep their pockets are and the readiness of the beds of the female students.
Cultism has become more powerful and audacious. When the Pirates Confraternity was formed in Nigeria in 1952 by the “Original Seven” to support human rights and social justice in Nigeria and to fight colonialism—a worthy cause you dare say— was when cultism was born in our country. Cults are now commonplace at all of Nigeria’s postsecondary institutions for wrong and evil reasons. The fact that cults are now present in primary and secondary schools is even more horrifying.
Even more worrisome are the cult memberships of vice-chancellors, deans, heads of departments, and lecturers. Just now, a previous vice chancellor demanded that lecturers undergo drug tests. He was speaking from experience. Cultist students force lecturers to do their bidding by awarding their members the marks they dictate. Nigeria is really in trouble.
Cults have extended throughout society to engulf traders, mechanics, and artisans and have taken over the streets. Cultism and cult wars are now a fad everywhere in the South as banditry and terrorism are reigning supreme in the North.
There is a steep moral decline and degradation. Just as many parents are purchasing exam questions for their kids and enrolling them in special centres where examiners read out the answers to the questions and all of them receive “A” grades, a father was recently caught writing JAMB for his son! Scores from JAMB, WAEC, and NECO, as well as from schools, are now directly purchased by many parents. These students leave the school as barren as when they arrived, posing a great burden to the Nigerian society as quacks when unleashed as qualified graduates and professionals; to say nothing about the role of corruption in the creation of banditry and terrorism, and their escalation.
This is only a quick glimpse into the terrifying Nigeria of today. Corruption now permeates every facet of life in our country and something has to be done quickly.
The EFCC and the ICPC, Nigeria’s two primary anti-corruption agencies, are overburdened and have a difficult task ahead of them. Things deteriorated merely because the nation’s political elite behaved much like invading locusts, wiping off public treasury and pushing back the fight against corruption.
Nonetheless, three things would make Nigeria’s fight against corruption work: 1) the president’s political will to let the agencies carry out their duties regardless of whose ox is gored; 2) the agencies’ courage and diligence in carrying out their duties without favouritism or playing to the gallery, as was the case in the past; and 3) most importantly, the total support of Nigerian citizens.
It is now inevitable that Nigerians’ conflicted impression of the new heroic work of the Economic and Financial Crime Commission (EFCC) is changed urgently. Nigerians must now unite behind the anti-corruption agencies to save their country from these invading locusts.
The consequences of corruption in Nigerian society are dire. Since corruption is the primary source of every problem that has negatively impacted the nation over the past few decades, particularly in terms of development, national security, and the economy, it must be eliminated at all costs, and that will only be possible with the total support of Nigerians for the EFCC and ICPC. Nigerians have previously had cause to question the honesty and integrity of the anti-corruption agencies, but there are strong indications that the anti-corruption fight is now serious for once.
Following the country’s 1999 restoration to democracy, corruption has grown primarily as a result of the politicisation of the war against the cankerworm and the impunity and political protection enjoyed by the political class and corrupt politicians.
At this critical point, the anti-corruption authorities must demonstrate to Nigerians their sincere commitment to eliminating corruption in national life. That’s the only way to change citizens’ negative perceptions about the anti-corruption fight and mobilise citizens’ support for their renewed fight against corruption.
The anti-corruption agencies need to enlist the aid of the media and CSOs as well. The two are strategic if Nigerians will take the anti-corruption agencies seriously and believe that they have changed for the better.
The agencies should, among other things, also create anti-corruption clubs and run leaf-letting campaigns in schools. These are equally vital as preventive measures and for changing the young, who have come to accept corruption as a way of life in their country, Nigeria.
Yes, Nigeria’s dire circumstances can be saved if its citizens actively support the efforts of the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) and the Independent Corrupt Practices and Other Related Offences Commission (ICPC) to hold corrupt public officials accountable for the public treasury they have looted and to recover the funds they have embezzled.
Nigerians, through EFCC and ICPC, can, and should, take back their country.
Dr Law Mefor, an Abuja-based forensic and social psychologist, is a fellow of The Abuja School of Social and Political Thought. He can be reached via drlawmefor@gmail.com; Twitter: @Drlawsonmefor.
The country rose in one voice to condemn the March 14, 2024 killing of 17 military officers and men in Okuama community who were said to be on a peace mission. It did so without having the facts or asking pertinent questions. The point that soldiers, who signed up to serve the country, were killed, was enough to send the nation into mourning and to unify us.
Today, 46 days after, we are no wiser as to the facts of the case. Who sent them on the mission? What were the objectives? What really happened? Unfortunately, we may never learn from this case because our Generals decided it is a purely military affair that excludes the police which has the wherewithal to conduct a forensic investigation. Rather than enhance an investigation, the military levelled the town. Even after severally contaminating the crime scene, the Generals for six days, barred the Governor who, constitutionally, is also the chief security officer of the state, from accessing the area. The excuse was that the military was engaged in military operations in the area. If it has taken over six weeks for the Generals to conduct such operations in an undefended community and, against a civilian population that had fled, how many years would it have taken them to move into Niger Republic had the Presidency not changed its mind about the invasion of that country?
The Generals took over the arrest and investigation of Nigerian citizens without respecting their constitutional rights to fair hearing. The arrests in Okuama is like going to hell. The detained traditional ruler, Clement Ikolo said upon his release: “It is like somebody coming from the dead. That is what it is like.”
If this is the experience of a privileged elite with international connections, you can imagine what nameless locals with no connections are undergoing in the hands of a clearly angry military.
Where crimes are committed, especially by civilians, it is the duty of the police to arrest and investigate and, not the military. This is more so in the Okuama case in which the military is not only an interested party but has also carried out reactive actions that need to be investigated. We must be a country of laws and constitutionality, not one in which individuals and groups, no matter how aggrieved, will take laws into their hands.
Where in the world, would an army set up a military panel to investigate civilians, deprive them of legal advice and exclude constitutional authorities including government? This can neither be civil rule nor a democracy.
In discussing the Okuama killings, there have been some arguments that the military’s reaction is justified because restraining them can lead to demoralisation. I disagree. What is required is the proper orientation of the military; the ends of justice are not served by being lawless, but being law-abiding and ensuring that justice is served.
There are also arguments that the military Rules Of Engagement, ROE, cannot hold in combat situations. This precisely is why the rules were made in the first place. Adherence to them is what distinguishes the military as a profession from other armed groups.
The ROE governing internal military operations includes justification; there is no justification for revenge killings. Secondly, it prescribes the use of minimum force; burning down communities and assuming that all non-military persons in the area are enemy combatants, amount to the use of maximum force.
The ROE prescribes the maintenance of public confidence. I submit that the public may not have confidence in a military that historically sees citizens as “bloody civilians” and fights blindly like Ogun, the god of iron, which does not distinguish between enemies and friends.
When I was a boy growing up in Obalende, Lagos, the sentries at Dodan Barracks, especially when it was dark, were expected to call out to the person approaching the gate: “Halt! Who goes there? Enemy or friend?” After which the person identified himself and stated his mission. But how do you respond when the sentry shouts: “Halt! Who goes there? Enemy or foe?”
Prevention is another injunction in the ROE. If there were adequate consultations between the communities and the military before the deployment of the soldiers, could this tragedy have been prevented? Only a proper investigation can reveal this. But, are steps being taken to prevent a repeat?
The ROE also prescribes legal obligation. As I said earlier, in the Okuama case, legal obligation and evidence have taken serious missile hits. Finally, the ROE talks about safe guarding loyal citizens. In this case, the loyal citizens are in the grave, under arrest or are in flight.
As can be seen, no section of the ROE justifies reprisal attacks by the military against civilians who in any case, might be innocent.
Today, the military, even after levelling Okuama, continues its “operation” in the community. It does not appear in a hurry to leave, and who knows, the community might actually be erased if it is turned into a military camp.
The Delta State government, apparently left with no alternative, has decided to move the people from the forests they are taking refuge, to an Internally Displaced Persons, IDPs, camp in Asaba, the state capital.
Meanwhile, the military, perhaps based on new information or disinformation, has extended its invasion to neigbouring Bayelsa State where it reportedly sacked the Igbomoturu community, killing 20 youths. Obviously pained, Bayelsa State Governor Douye Diri said: “My advice to the military and security agencies is to be very professional in their investigations so that innocent Bayelsans; innocent Ijaws…” would not be killed.
Sadly, we are not learning from our recent history. The on-going invasion of Okuama and Igbomoturu are not too dissimilar to the November 20, 1999 military invasion of Odi in Bayelsa State. Fifteen days before, a criminal gang had killed 12 policemen near Odi. In reprisal attacks, the military levelled the town killing over 900 civilians. President Goodluck Jonathan was to lament on November 18, 2010 that “only innocent people, including women, children and the very weak that could not run, were killed in Odi”.
Justice Lambi Akanbi of the Federal High Court in awarding a N37.6 billion compensation to the victims, had in his February, 2013 judgement, declared: “The people are entitled to fundamental rights to life, dignity and fair play; the destruction of Odi was not as a result of gun battle but clear bombardment, the destruction was malicious.”
Our Generals should stop the re-enactment of the Kaima, Odi and Zaki Biam massacres by halting their attacks on Okuama and Igbomoturu, pulling out the troops and allowing the normal course of justice to prevail. Otherwise, these would tantamount to war crimes.
SENIOR Nigerian public officers are notoriously parsimonious with their recall once out of office. From among their club memoirs are the unusual. In a country ruled by whim, risk aversion is prudent when you are out of power. By feigning amnesia, yesterday’s men limit the likelihood that their successors may remember them for the wrong reasons. Moreover, with government as the principal guarantor of a good life, respect for the its rule of Omerta is the only way to retain any hope of access to its revolving doors.
When it occurs, departure from this trend is usually enforced. This is why Mohammed Bello Adoke’s 2019 memoirs remain notable. Adoke, a Senior Advocate of Nigeria, SAN, was Attorney-General and Minister of Justice under President Goodluck Jonathan for five years from 2010 until 2015. Since leaving office, he has endured exile, detention, and a failed criminal trial in connection with the infamous Oil Prospecting Lease, OPL, 245 granted in April 1998 by General Abacha to the shadowy Malabu Oil and Gas Limited.
Even before his trial began, Adoke felt called upon to discharge a burden in relation to the controversies that dogged him after office. Fittingly, his story is published under the titled, Burden of Service. The sub-title, Reminiscences of Nigeria’s Former Attorney-General, underscores the point that Adoke is, remarkably, the first former Attorney-General of the Federation to publish an account from his time in office.
In addition to the Malabu Oil controversy, Burden of Service also offers insights into many other highlights of the Goodluck Jonathan years, including the hand-over of Bakassi Peninsula to Cameroon, recovery of the endless Abacha Loot, the removal of Ayo Salami as President of the Court of Appeal, and the climactic denouement to Nigeria’s 2015 presidential election. In the afterglow of what he must regard as judicial vindication, it is timely to re-examine Adoke’s own narration.
While his parochial account is interesting in and of itself, it is the vignettes he offers when he is not necessarily pleading his own cause that make Adoke’s insights deserving of attention. A general theme of his is the shiftiness of Nigerian politicians and he illustrates this with several issues in the book. Some deserve scrutiny.
The first is the currency of loyalty in Nigerian politics. Under General Abacha, politicians popularised “I am loyal” as cult greeting. It is not lost on those interested that anyone who has need to repeat affirmations in this way probably knows nothing about loyalty in the first place. Illustrating this point, Adoke narrates how many people close to President Jonathan donated money to support the campaign of General Muhammadu Buhari in 2015. According to him, “many of my cabinet colleagues, including those known to be close to the President, had made donations to Buhari’s campaign. Those involved included heads of agencies. A Principal Officer of the National Assembly from the PDP was to later confess publicly that he donated N5 million to the APC during the elections.”
This shiftiness is not limited to politics; it also extends to high matters of constitutional legality. This is the second highlight from Burden of Service. Adoke tells a remarkable story about the fate of the Constitution (Fourth Amendment) Bill of 2015, which was said to have failed to receive presidential assent before President Jonathan vacated office. The amendment included clauses granting immunity to law-makers, life pension to former presiding officers of the National Assembly and inducting them into life membership of the National Council of State. It also contained a provision dispensing with presidential assent to constitutional amendments.
As Adoke recalls, after the 2015 election, the National Assembly transmitted the Bill to President Jonathan for his assent. By the time Adoke learnt of this, President Jonathan had reportedly assented to the bill and authorised for it to be returned to the National Assembly. So, Adoke raced to the presidency to explain to the President the dangers inherent in the provisions contained in the amendment he assented to. After his encounter with President Jonathan, “the President looked genuinely surprised and promptly withdrew his assent”, whereupon he directed the Attorney-General “to prepare a memorandum elucidating all the issues…. raised and why he would have to veto the bill.” The rest is history but an important constitutional question arises – can a president having assented to a law unilaterally withdraw his assent?
Thirdly, there is the issue of weaponisation of litigation against the public purse in judgment debts. It’s best to render this in Adoke’s own words: “Many of the claims were bogus but since it was an organized scam, they were getting away with it…. Again, there were too many people interested in judgment debts. We were getting calls from all manner of people, including members of the National Assembly. Actually, some National Assembly members were making appropriation for judgment debts based on an understanding with the debtors (sic). It was a conspiracy against the national treasury.” This does not require any translation but it is noteworthy that Attorney-General Adoke chose not to tell who “they” were.
Fourth, there is the matter of plea bargains in white collar crimes involving politically exposed persons, PEPs, in Nigeria. About this, Adoke tells the story of the presidential pardon granted former Bayelsa State Governor, Diprieye Alamieyeseigha. According to him, Alamieyeseigha’s conviction was under a plea bargain and “as part of the plea bargain he was to be granted presidential pardon by (President Umaru) Yar’Adua after his release from jail. This, however, did not materialize as President Yar’Adua fell ill and died.” Plea bargains are subject to approval by courts and it’s doubtful whether this part of the deal was disclosed to any court. It certainly wasn’t disclosed to Nigerians.
Fifth, as Attorney-General of the Federation, Adoke was also the official leader of the Bar. His memoir offers an unusual insight into how he views hierarchies at the Bar. To make this point, he tells the story of how, before his time, “a substantial part of the budgetary allocation made for solicitors’ fees was being paid out only to two or three private solicitors. There was a case of a former Attorney-General that was paying a Senior Advocate N50 million for each case….” The result was there was insufficient money to go round and many cases against government went un-defended, leading to more judgment debts. So, how did Adoke address this? He decided that “no SAN would be paid more than N5 million for a brief; any other lawyer, who was not a SAN, would receive a maximum of N2 million.” In the un-complicated calculus of Attorney-General Adoke, a SAN is worth 250% of a non-SAN!
The narration in Burden of Service unfolds at four distinct levels of pre-text, text, context, and sub-text. It is replete with claims of moral high ground and completeness of disclosure but – as with nearly all memoirs -the reader must have an eye for both the credible and the incredulous. The line between these two can sometimes be non-existent in Adoke’s mind.
In telling the story of the removal of Ayo Salami as the President of the Court of Appeal, for instance, Adoke prefaces his narration with the implicit disclaimer that “the Attorney-General is not a member of the National Judicial Council, NJC”, who recommended the retirement of Salami. He then proceeds to a pro-forma narration that is half-hearted to the point of being manifestly disingenuous.
According to Adoke, Salami “had personally encouraged” him to apply for SAN. However, Chief Justice Katsina-Alu, who was the other party in this terminal dog-fight with Salami, was his “mentor and adopted father” and benefactor, who personally recommended him to President Jonathan for the position of Attorney-General. Why it should fall to the Chief Justice of the Federation to nominate the Attorney-General of the Federation is another matter altogether. It is difficult to escape the conclusion that in this part of the book, at least, Adoke was – to put it rather mildly – less than economical with the truth.
A lawyer and a teacher, Odinkalu can be reached at chidi.odinkalu@tufts.edu
Some people inspire us with their lives, others teach us a lesson with their death. In the case of Hon. Sidi Hamid Ali, veteran journalist, politician, ‘persuader’, author and statesman, his life enriched so many narratives while his death last week diminished all who knew him.
Sidi Hamid Ali was a man-and-a-half; too much for one country, not enough for two. Restless, sharp-witted, impulsive, perspicacious, creative and loyal to causes and people he believed in, he was one of a kind. In the almost five decades that I was privileged to know him, he still ranked as an enigma— half-question, half-possibility, half-exclamation, half-puzzle-behind-puzzle. His persona was easy to understand but if you thought you knew him, you would eventually find out that you didn’t fully know him.
Gun Incident
The first thing that comes to the mind of many people when the name Sidi Ali is mentioned is the incident in the House of Representatives during the Second Republic when he was alleged to have drawn a gun and thrown the entire house into panic. What actually happened was that a fellow parliamentarian had assaulted Sidi Ali (which was a serious parliamentary offence) and Ali had duly reported the matter to the Speaker and other leaders of the house. He waited for several days for action to be taken against his assailant but no such action was forthcoming.
So, he decided to teach them all a lesson. He smuggled a gun into the legislative chambers and as soon as he saw his assailant who was conferring with other colleagues, he drew the gun. Legislators, led by the Speaker, voted with their feet! The assailant didn’t show up in the house for several weeks until he was assured that his apology had been accepted by Ali. Although a stickler for rules, he was not averse to stirring things up when necessary.
Born in Kano in 1938, he spent part of his childhood in Ghana where his father, Alhaji Sidi Ali, ran a thriving cattle business. He started school in Shahuci Elementary School in 1945, and in 1949 went to Kano Middle School where he was in the same class with Murtala Mohammed who was to join the army in later years and become Nigerian head of state.
He was sent back to Ghana for higher education but he was enmeshed instead in radical politics which led to his expulsion. He and some of his colleagues came to the attention of Dr. Kwame Nkrumah who decided to help mould them to become useful to Africa of the future. Nkrumah gave him scholarship to study in the UK but the plan didn’t work out because he did not have an A-Level certificate, so he was sent to New York in the US where there was a provision for a six-month remedial course to make him eligible for university admission.
Those were the days of momentous events in many parts of the world. In Africa, the Congo crisis was in full bloom. Young Sidi Ali was the Chairman of the Political Committee of the Pan African Students’ Organisation (PASO). In that position, he led demonstrations and was part of the group of African students who provided security for Cuban leader Fidel Castro when he stayed in a hotel in Harlem. The American authorities fingered him as one of the undesirables.
Journalist & Author
After bagging his degree, he returned to Ghana but the situation had drastically changed as Nkrumah had been overthrown and the ruling military men were very edgy. By the mid-sixties, the political situation in Nigeria itself had deteriorated. When Sidi Ali returned, he had the good fortune of meeting benevolent seniors like Alhaji MD Yusuf and Alhaji Ahmed Joda both of who assisted him in getting into the civil service.
He was in the team that ran the propaganda machine of the Nigerian government throughout the civil war. His skill as a prolific writer also came in handy in his later career as an author of nine books.
Fittingly, Ali became known as a principled politician and uncompromising journalist. It was his journalism that fed his political activism.
In the run-up to the Second Republic, he had written an article critical of the military and had been slammed in prison. The prominent party in Kano was the radical People’s Redemption Party (PRP) which sent two of its members, Abubakar Rimi and Inuwa Wada to co-opt Ali as a candidate for the federal house of representatives. His nomination form was filled while in prison and he eventually won the election, representing Danbatta even though he was from Darma in Kano City. All that mattered to the people was that he was Mallam Aminu Kano’s candidate.
When I first met Hon. Sidi Ali, I was working in DRUM magazine and we shared many friends and sources together. I used to visit him in his home and office in Obalende, near Dodan Barracks, Lagos. We called him Sarki of Obalende. He was a treasure throve of information. We even managed to collaborate on a few anti-apartheid programmes at a time when Thabo Mbeki and his fellow freedom fighters also had their offices in Obalende. Proverbially speaking, you could say he knew where all the dead bodies were buried. He therefore enjoyed the respect of fellow professionals and, indeed, the ruling elite, whether in uniform or in babariga. In those pre-internet days when every little source was gold, Sidi Ali was the gold mine itself.
He was a go-getter. He once told me the story of how he wanted to see Chief Awolowo at his Ikenne residence but was prevented by security men. He then told the head of the security that it was Mama Awolowo he wanted to see, not Papa. A message was sent to Mama and she promptly replied that Sidi was her son and should always be given free passage whenever he came. With him, you never said never.
In the 90s, Hon. Ali was a regular visitor to my office at Academy Press in Ilupeju where he processed tons of quality calendars, diaries, annual reports and journals to the envy of many advertising agencies. As a devout Muslim, he observed all his religious obligations routinely as he would just disappear with my office assistant to one corner whenever it was time for the Muslim prayer. In all his business dealings, his word was his bond.
Friend & Brother
We were to link up again when my office moved to Abuja. He had earlier relocated to the new capital city. We simply continued from where we left off. All through his life, he remained passionate about Nigeria actualising its potentials. He operated an ‘open-clock’ policy in the sense that if he was thinking of some idea or writing something and needed clarification or simple contextualisation, he would call me, even if it was 2am!
Every Eid-El-Kabir, I always had a full pot of ram meat from Hon. Ali. Even if I was in Lagos, he would arrange for a driver to bring my share of the sallah meat from Kano to Abuja where my staff would collect the consignment.
We spoke for exactly 11 minutes and 38 seconds about three weeks ago. We discussed his health for about three minutes and I also had a brief chat with his son, Osama. The rest of the time was taken up by political talk and a review of the security situation in the country. His voice was strong, clear, and passionate. He didn’t sound like an 86-year-old man who had just three weeks to take the final bow. I like to remember him that way: Pontificating, assertive, hopeful, witty. I pray that God gives his family the fortitude to bear his demise.
Adieu, my detribalised friend, collaborator and elder brother, Mallam Sidi Hamid Ali. Allah Ya gafarta maka, Ya dawwamar da kai gidan aljanna.
The enchanter recited the incantation with utmost fury: “River Niger and River Benue, the confluence is in Kogi State. Except say River Niger and River Benue no come meet for Kogi; if River Niger and River Benue come meet for Kogi, dem no go fit arrest Bello… Dem dey use EFCC pursue am, dem no go succeed o. Dem go lay siege for im house for Abuja… Except say I no be born of Igala kingdom… EFCC dey front, you dey back; you dey back, dem dey front; you dey left, dem dey right; you dey right, dem dey left; you dey centre, dem come there, you jump dem pass!…a lion cannot give birth to a goat…”
The repertoire is a typical exchange in African rituals. The target was the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC), an organization headed by Ola Olukoyede. Olukoyede is said to be a pastor in Enoch Adeboye’s RCCG. So, three men gather in a place that looks like a forest. Woven round the heads of two of them like bandana is a white cloth. They crouch on their knees. The third, kneeling in the middle, carries a brown pot from which oozes a thick smoke. Libation ingredients are ready. They are: a black cock, tortoise, a green bottle which ostensibly habours in its bosom sacrificial liquor. The liquor is then sprinkled on the ground as libation. Two egg-like objects complete the ingredients of sacrifice. Either as an effigy or in person, the presence of the recipient of the ritual is always needed. His spirit needs to connect with the spirits.
So, a portrait of the man who gave self the sobriquet of White Lion, Yahaya Bello, is procured for the libation process. He is dressed in all-white attire like the god, Obatala. Obatala is a Yoruba god of purity. Then the one who looks like the chief priest begins to render a monologue that is known in African ritual practice as incantation. It is similar to the allocutus lawyers enter into on behalf of their guilty client. The aim is for the de-escalation of the pursuit of Bello by the EFCC, his alleged theft of Kogi State’s N82 billion notwithstanding. Bello’s matter got escalated towards the end of the week when the EFCC chairman alleged that the ex-governor paid in advance, the sum of $845,852.84 to the Abuja school of his children. Bello has made feeble attempt to denounce this from his hiding hole with the ill-logic that it was paid with his hard-earned sweats. Why the rush to pay school fees till 2034 if where the money was got today would remain permanent?
Yahaya Bello and his apologists have been spurting out bunkum. They allege that the EFCC is hounding him. Let us assume they are right. First, it is shameful for a self-styled Lion to hide inside a hole like a coyote, thereby eating stale food reserved for effeminate animals. Don’t they say that the leopard, and by extension, the lion, does not eat stale food? (Ekun kii je’ran ikasi). It is thus lawless of Yahaya Bello not to honour the anti-graft body’s lawful invitation. Bello’s 8-year reign was notorious for his naked stomping on opposition’s human rights, running a government fittingly described as an orgy of violence. Why are executioners always afraid when swords are flung in their faces? His is reminiscent of the story of an executioner in Old Oyo Kingdom whose specialty was in decapitating his victims with relish. Upon courting the ire of the Alaafin and was sentenced to death, the ex-executioner suddenly became jittery. When the man about to decapitate him began to do the traditional acrobatics pre-cutting off of his head, jittery, the ex-executioner’s voice shaky, he asked what part of his body would be cut off, “my head or feet?” Celebratory townsmen who had gathered to witness his comeuppance were angered and demanded rhetorically what part of his victims’ bodies he relished in cutting off during his reign of terror.
Anthropologists of the in the pre-colonial era of the 20th century studying witchcraft were shocked. They had earlier submitted that occult practices would die with modernization and urbanization. However, in the last two decades, modernity seems to have lost the battle in Africa. The miserable and insecure nature of everyday life has made African politicians to go two steps backwards. Rather than the Gods of Christianity and Islam which they inherited from the colonizers, they have gone back to ancient practices preceding the incursion of Arab and European lords. Now, the patronage of priests, priestesses of divinities, herbalists, sorcerers and occults is key to resolution of political dilemmas. Politicians use charms, amulets, rings, belts, ritual, incantations for the attainment of political goals. Either it was a skit or reality, that viral video of enchanters seeking Yahaya Bello to be set free typifies the usual scene in power relations in Africa. In the bid to attain, sustain or vend off irritants in political power struggles, there is widespread evidence confirming that many Africans today strongly hold on to beliefs which they got from traditional cosmologies. These have now constituted the core of their everyday lives. The Kenyan Mau Mau revolt is said to have been fought with African magical powers.
Magical and ritual practices are pervasive in power relations in Nigeria. This evidently affirms that when complicated issues and challenges of life confront Nigerian politicians, they quickly run to their tradition and origin. This equally demonstrates the ease with which they momentarily throw away their Christian and Islamic cloaks to hold on to the utilitarian purpose that magic and sorcery serve them. Late University of Leiden scholar, Stephen Ellis, in a 2001 article, “Mystical Efforts: Some evidence from the Liberian war” (Journal of Religion in Africa, XXX1, 2) described how young fighters in the Liberian war, sporting amulets which assumably made them bullet-proof, filled the streets with corpses. Monrovians were shocked at how the soldiers “(disemboweled) the bodies of their victims and (eat) their flesh or internal organs, particularly the heart.” The art of eating human heart is borne of a residue of practices in Africa. The belief is that, a person’s essence is contained in the heart and the blood. So, once the hearts and blood of these warriors are eaten and drunk, “the one who had just eaten them acquires some of the power formerly possessed by his victim.”
Wherever Bello is at the moment, no one needed to be told that he is engrossed with one or a combination of three elements in the bid to confront the coercive power of the Nigerian state. In the tragedy that is Yahaya Bello, these three elements must be making gross harvests from his calamity. They are, on the one hand, the religious combine made up of Pastors, Alfas and African indigenous religious rituals and magic. The second is, lawyers scrambling to profit from what they perceive as the loot from Kogi. Some shameless ones gathered in court last week to protest against the EFCC. The third is bloggers/journalists who by now must have offered to defreeze adversarial comments against him in traditional and social media platforms.
As guest speaker at a 2-day education summit which held in Port Harcourt, Rivers State in 2013, Nobel Laureate, Prof. Wole Soyinka, waded into the now popular syncretic practices among Nigerian leaders. His particular beef was with Nigerian leaders’ dependence on consultation of marabouts and prophets to acquire and sustain political power. “Give me the name of any head of state who has not been consulting marabouts and prophets and so on, sacrificing goats, animals in the dead of night to receive a third term in office and so on,” he said. The veiled reference was to Olusegun Obasanjo. Marabouts have become notorious in the incestuous relationship between politics and religion in northern Nigeria. They are traditionally Muslim religious leaders and teachers who functioned historically as chaplains serving in Islamic army of North Africa, the Sahara, and in the Maghreb.
Soyinka was right. After the Gideon Orkar volley of bullets on the Dodan Barracks seat of power had subsided, it occurred to General Ibrahim Babangida that kinetic power alone could not guarantee his safety in power. IBB was reported to have consulted marabouts from Senegal who promptly buried live cows in Aso Rock to guarantee his fortification. Same went for General Sani Abacha who reportedly imported seasoned marabouts to spiritually guard Aso Rock. Bowels of the four corners of Abuja reportedly opened up their wombs and swallowed countless cows in sacrifice. Marabouts from Cameroun were also said to have assured the then Vice President Atiku Abubakar that Olusegun Obasanjo would not have a second term, thus exacerbating the animosity between the president and his vice.
President Felix Houphouet-Boigny was an example. A devout Catholic, he was said to have privately resorted to African mediums. Mobutu Sese Seko of Zaire also ran a government of elite conspiracy of witches where marabouts were consulted at every point for the enhancement of political power.
For very many other African heads of state, clerics and known spiritualists were their advisors. Kenneth Kaunda was top among them. As president of Zambia, he had an Indian, Dr Ranganathan, as consultant on power matters. So also did President Mathieu Kerekou of Benin. He had a Malian marabout called Mohamed Amadou Cisse, also known as ‘Djine’ or ‘the Devil’ as his spiritual advisor. Cisse once publicly espoused the Devil. He was hitherto advisor to some other African leaders like Mobutu and Omar Bongo of Gabon. Kerekou later appointed Cisse minister of state whose responsibility in the Beninese government was secret services. President Didier Ratsiraka of Madagascar too had a palace that boasted of an extravagant temple dedicated to Rosicrucian god. So also did Paul Biya of Cameroon and Joaquim Chissano of Mozambique, both of whom were followers of Transcendental Meditation.
Marabouts, herbalists, sorcerers and occult chiefs of the Yahaya Bellos of this world and other African leaders become repositories of highly confidential state information. These are got in the process of spiritual interventions for the captive leaders. Feckless and desperate in the bid to attain and cling on to power, they divulge details of innermost governmental secrets to them. A 1998-published journal article written by Stephen Ellis and Gerrie ter Haar with the title, “Religion and Politics in Sub-Saharan Africa” (The Journal of Modern African Studies, Vol. 36, No. 2, pp. 175-201) discusses how leading marabouts have pre-knowledge of coups d’e tat and other secrets of power. Amadou Cisse, for instance, knew virtually all the secrets of power in Benin. So did another marabout, Amadou Oumarou ‘Bonkano’, who was appointed chief of national intelligence service. Having known details of President Seyni Kountche of Niger’s operations, Oumarou attempted a coup against Kountche, his patron and employer.
At a random and conservative estimate, ninety per cent of Nigerian politicians, aside the Christianity and Islam they profess in broad daylight, patronize priests, herbalists, sorcerers and occults. They probably have discovered that the immediacy of execution that these African deities possess cannot be found in the Western God. Again, I tend to submit that the rash of theft of public money among them is borne out of the presumed fortification they are promised by African deity priests and priestesses. They offer human beings as sacrifice in the process. Unknown to them, they kill the proverbial hunchback, Abuke Osin, the favourite servant of Obatala god, in the process of acquiring these powers. Unjustly shed blood fight back.
According to renowned living archive of Yoruba traditional institution, Yemi Elebuibon, in his The Adventures of Obatala: Ifa and Santeria God of creativity,(2016) the hunchback was one of the faithful servants of Obatala who he sent on errands. Having become rich due to his generosity to the Abuke Osin, Tortoise, Alabahun the fabled trickster, envied Ojugbe, his neighbour. Impressed by his generosity to the hunchback, Obatala chanted some incantations which deposited precious beads, gold and other ornaments inside the carapace-like chest of the hunchback. So when Ojugbe rubbed the hunchback’s chest, he became stupendously wealthy. Stingy and unable to compete with Ojugbe-kind generosity, Tortoise lured the Abuke Osin into his house and forcefully rubbed his chest which refused to emit money. He then killed this servant of Obatala and incurred the wrath of the god.
The moment the Nigerian state allows Yahaya Bello, for whatever reason, to escape the wrath of the law, its last lever of strength will snap off. Whoever kills the Abuke Osin should pay dearly for it.
The list of Nigerians who have attempted to set and break Guinness World Records for one achievement or another continues to expand, seemingly without any relent or end in sight. The running joke on social media now is that the Guinness World Records Book will soon be worn out by the time Nigerians are done with it.
And dry humour aside, it would very much begin to appear that way. After all, it was Hilda Bassey Effiong who opened the lid with her now famous cook-a-thon, and since that unforgettable time, the GWR fever has cut across the length and breadth of this country, with countless individuals riding the waves of this zeitgeist, and all of the Nigerian internet space coming together to sustain discourse around this new phenomenon. I watched a video of a young person on Facebook moving from one restaurant to another in an attempt to break the Guinness World Record for the highest number of restaurants visited by an individual, hoping to achieve over 120 visits within Abuja in 24 hours. Another young man has kickstarted a 150-hour ironing marathon, fully aware of the epileptic power supply in Nigeria. Such is the Nigerian spirit, the spirit of “if you can do it, I can do it too.”
But one man in particular has now managed to stand out in the midst of the record-breaking fever that has gripped the country. His story is the stuff of legends, everything in it showing the makings of an inspirational feature film. This man is none other than Tunde Onakoya, the chess maverick who took the world by storm in his attempt to break the world record for the longest chess marathon at the famous Times Square in New York. And yet, Onakoyaʼs fame (at least on the internet and select media channels) stems from the inspiring non-profit organization he is a co-founder of, Chess In Slums Africa.
As the name implies, the initiative revolves around Tundeʼs resolve to uplift and better the lives of street kids in impoverished sections of Lagos. The thoughtful initiative not only captured the hearts of people on social media, but grew considerably, drawing immense global support (financial donations trickled in, endorsements and partnerships beckoned) until Tunde Onakoya and his chess-playing mentees became literal internet sensations. According to a report published by HumAngle, “As of June 2021, Chess in Slums Africa had trained over 200 children and got lifelong scholarships for 20 of them.” Truly, it is possible to do great things from a small place, as Tunde once said.
Not only has the Chess In Slums initiative changed the lives of many youths and spoken to something positive, hopeful and beautiful about Nigeria. And this is majorly why many Nigerians in the USA came out to support Tunde as he attempted to break the current record of 56 hours, 9 minutes, and 37 seconds set by Norwegians Hallvard Haug Flatebo and Sjur Ferkingstad. Their support was not in vain at all, as Tunde would persevere and go on to break the record in grand style, playing alongside fellow chess master Shawn Martinez and others without losing a single game.
What makes Tunde Onakoya’s record attempt more unique is that he did not attempt to break the record just to gain recognition; he set out to achieve the feat to raise money for children of the poor and downtrodden who cannot afford basic needs. Even when he faced health problems during the game and was advised to quit, he refused to give up and said, “I will play on for the dreams of millions of children.”
Tunde himself confirmed the health problem he had during the campaign in his appreciation message to his fans and well-wishers on social media:
“Catching up on social media now and I’ve constantly fought back tears,” he tweeted.
“Love you guys very much. I’ll do a proper post when I get the right words to express all of the emotions I feel right now.
“Let me delve into this jollof rice for now. It’s my first meal in almost four days. I had food poisoning during the marathon so I couldn’t eat anything at all, just water.”
What’s interesting about Tunde’s chess heroics is that his father, like every other typical African parent who wants their children to pursue careers like law, medicine, aviation, engineering, and other top professions, never supported his choice of playing chess to carve a niche for himself. I can imagine how livid he would have been upon seeing young Tunde playing chess. Probably, he might have warned him to desist from playing it and focus instead on more important pursuits. Almost every African child has a story to tell about how their parents never wanted them to pursue careers outside the classroom, whether in football or other fields. I myself am a victim of African parents’ career expectations. However, like Tunde, I was not stubborn enough to defy my parents and pursue the envisioned beautiful career in football.
Tunde’s father, Pa Onakoya, is as joyful as a lark, seeing his son fly the country’s flag in faraway America. The icing on the cake is the house gifted to Tunde Onakoya’s parents by a Good Samaritan. He announced this good news via a post on his social media handle some hours ago: “Someone gifted my parents a new house today. It’s the single greatest thing anyone will ever do for me in this lifetime. Thank you. My mother worked as a cleaner in the same school I attended so I could get an education while my dad worked as a danfo driver/bus conductor so we could feed and survive. My greatest joy in life is to be able to give them both the life they truly deserve,” he said.
Tunde Onakoya’s story carries a great lesson for African parents. As guardians, we should avoid being rigid in steering our children towards specific career paths. Our aspirations may differ from what destiny has in store for them. While I empathize with Tunde’s father’s frustration at his son’s choice of chess over a conventional career like law or medicine, I understand that it stemmed from love, not malice. Contrary to certain online opinions, what the old man wanted for Tunde was the best in life. That’s why he even had to sell his house to pay for Tunde’s WAEC exams, according to reports. Personally, I would be perturbed if my son, whom I envision as the next Gani Faweinmi or a renowned consultant, suddenly expressed a desire to pursue chess. With Nigeria’s rich sports heritage in football, boxing, and more, chess might seem unconventional. However, the crux of Tunde’s journey lies in conviction. He held steadfast to his passion, and the rest is now history.
Ultimately, the love and support he received from Nigerians are another exemplification of the Nigerian spirit. Truly, we love ourselves. It does not matter whether you are Hausa, Igbo, or Yoruba, Christian or Muslim; just fly your country’s flag in a positive light, and Nigerians from all walks of life will assemble to support you, even to the ends of the earth.
Tunde’s insistence on carrying on in the face of his health challenges is yet another example of the Nigerian spirit. When faced with seemingly impossible challenges, we always find a way to surmount the odds with our never-say-die Nigerian spirit. Truly, Naija no dey carry last.
Congratulations, Tunde Onakoya. Thank you for making all of Nigeria proud. Keep on soaring to greater heights.
Zayd Ibn Isah can be reached via lawcadet1@gmail.com
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Nigeria’s anti-corruption agencies, the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission EFCC and the Independent Corrupt Practices Commission ICPC were established some two decades ago by the government of President Olusegun Obasanjo. The motivation was to set up strategic platforms to deal decisively with the evils of corruption which were generally accepted by all to be at the apex of the nation’s collective malaise.
Nigerians were also aware that their country had been labelled as fantastically corrupt by the international community. This seems to explain the decision of each successive President to make strong statements to end corruption either during his electioneering campaigns or even after having been elected. At a point, the poetic declaration was: ‘if Nigeria does not kill corruption, corruption will kill Nigeria.’ Put differently, corruption is the most notorious bane of Nigeria’s development.
One would therefore have expected to see substantive efforts at dealing decisively with such a subject. But this has not been so,as the few and feeble efforts are usually shunned by many Nigerians. To start with, the ruling class does not appear assured that it is in its interest to end every type of corrupt practice. Indeed, from inception, so much was done to water-down the modalities of the anti-corruption bodies for effective performance. When it became obvious that Nuhu Ribadu, the pioneer chief executive of the EFCC was getting too solid on board, he was immediately redeployed supposedly by his original employers, the Police, to undergo a one-year course at the National Institute for Policy and Strategic Studies NIPSS in Kuru, Jos. It was as if the Police had a mandate to monitor Ribadu and to terminate his secondment to the EFCC whenever he became too tough for the powers that be.
In the case of the ICPC, the National Assembly had a running battle with its pioneer chief executive, Justice Mustapha Akanbi, now late. The sin of Akanbi was his attempt to investigate allegations of corruption brought to the ICPC against the leadership of the National Assembly. The latter summarily proceeded to amend the ICPC Act and to confer immunity on its leaders before calling for a public debate on the matter. In other words, top political office holders in Nigeria have never been comfortable with any anti-corruption framework to investigate their leaders. How can the EFCC and the ICPC succeed in their gigantic assignments if members of the ruling class known to be the greatest catalysts of corruption are to be exempted from the scope of operations of the anti-corruption bodies? The situation is yet to change!
It is against this backdrop that one considers as unfortunate, the discordant narratives on the current ‘war’ between former Governor Yahaya Bello of Kogi State and the EFCC which has in the last one week occupied huge media space. The said negative narratives have painfully reiterated the fact that Nigerians are not really ready to fight corruption. Indeed, Yahaya Bello’s case shows clearly that many Nigerians cherish the pursuit of shadows rather than substance by focussing on incidentals. It is more irritating that learned analysts are leading the resort to mundane and irrelevant issues. So, not much is said about the stupendous amounts suspected to have been embezzled. Instead, when, where and how Bello was invited or not invited for questioning are the issues in contention.
The questions irritatingly in focus include: Was Bello invited by the EFCC? If not, why was he not invited? If he was invited, who delivered the invitation? Was the invitation written? If yes, was it typed and was it on the official letterhead of the EFCC? In what form was the invitation- letter, card, WhatsApp, Instagram or oral? If the truth must be told these questions can only continue to unduly pamper citizens who had for 8 years been protected by the law from any arrest and or prosecution. When exactly would Yahaya Bello and other privileged politicians like him return to our normal society or are they entitled to immunity for life? Having been given a mandate to govern a state for two terms, Bello did not have to commit any offence before taking steps to render stewardship. It is worse that there were grave allegations against him in the public domain.
It is thus unfair to be hypercritical of any entity that seeks to take a look at some of the numerous unwholesome things that happened in Kogi State during Yahaya Bello’s tenure. Even if budgetary provisions were legally approved by the Kogi State House of Assembly for political violence during the period, there is need to know how much was appropriated and who dispensed the funds that kept the state in servitude and apprehension. Many lost the courage to raise their voices against certain unlawful acts. For advising against wastages concerning payment of workers’ salaries and uncompleted projects, Deputy Governor Simon Achuba was impeached although the panel set up to investigate the deputy governor did not find him wanting. But these were not even the issues that aroused the EFCC’s interest.
The anti-graft agency is raising many more fundamental issues of likely embezzlement of state resources that no one should sweep under the carpet. The EFCC for instance is bothered about several purchases of properties located mostly in Abuja. According to the Commission, Yahaya Bello needs to explain his ownership of Four Houses in the nation’s capital namely: i) No.2 Justice Chukwudifu Oputa Street, Asokoro, Abuja, acquired between 2018 and 2020 at a cost of N920 million, ii)Plot no. 1160, within Cadastral Zone C03, Gwarimpa II District, Abuja acquired in February, 2021 with the sum of N100million, iii)Block D, Manzini Street, Wuse Zone 4, Abuja acquired in 2022 at a cost of N170million and iv) No. 35 Danube Street, Maitama District, Abuja acquired in 2023, valued at ¦ 950 million. Critics should interrogate these and not cosmetic matters blown out of proportion.
It is obvious that the issues of improper invitation or no invitation at all raised by Yahaya Bello’s supporters are essentially diversionary. How could a man who was reportedly not informed about any case against him at the EFCC have gone to court to restrain the same EFCC from arresting him? Ayo Fayose, former Ekiti State Governor who was perceptive enough to appreciate the likelihood of his arrest to answer several allegations of impropriety against him while in office made a mark yet to be beaten by going on his own to knock at the door of the EFCC at the end of his tenure. The white lion of Kogi should have done same in the last two weeks instead of beating about the bush with unconvincing narratives. If he had done so, he would have seamlessly entered through his preferred front door of the EFCC while leaving his traducers in a state of distress.
What we have said so far should not derogate from the calls on all authorities to always follow the rule of law and the principles of natural justice while dealing with suspects. At the same time, nothing should be done to further increase powerful men at the expense of strong and viable societal institutions that all other progressive climes greatly rely upon for survival. It is therefore time to review Section 308 of our Constitution which grants “absolute” immunity to certain public office holders who have over the years used it to abuse their offices especially in matters of corruption. We can adopt the moderated template in Malaysia, Italy, Australia etc. to redress the Nigerian dilemma for us all to enjoy some measure of equality before the law.
It is therefore necessary to admonish our courts to halt unpatriotic orders which restrain certain bodies from performing their constitutionally assigned tasks. Similarly, the EFCC needs to be encouraged to be more proactive bearing in mind the subsisting position of the law that where as a privileged public officer who enjoys immunity cannot be arrested or prosecuted during his tenure, he can be investigated. Ola Olukoyede,the visibly vibrant new chair of the EFCC should therefore create a framework that enables its officials to conclude investigations on corrupt practices and arrange those who have cases to answer in court as soon as they leave office without wasting resources to feed such persons in custody. But our anti-graft agencies ought to always be assured of public support.
Charges that the judiciary is complicit in the executive rascality that has seized this country since the Fourth Republic began in 1999 never cease to rear its ugly head. The charges are not from aggrieved politicians alone but also from the top echelon of the Bar. Retired judges have also been known to express dissatisfaction at the performance of some of their colleagues still on the Bench. Truly, that the judiciary plays second fiddle or is subservient and servile to the Executive branch of government is not in doubt; the rulings and comportment of many of them embarrass even a lay man like me. I wonder why such judges have chosen the path of destruction, not only of themselves but also of their profession. Whimsical desecration of the hallowed chambers of justice by men and women constitutionally empowered to act mini-God, able to take the life they are not able to give, cannot be taken lightly. These are men and women who, on their own volition, without compulsion, swore on oath to dispense justice without fear of favour, with neither malice nor affection to anyone, regardless whose ox is gored. To turn afterwards, treat these with levity, and even laugh their oath to scorn!
Is it fear? Is it the love of money? Is it a lack of understanding? Montesquieu’s theory of separation of powers apart, the judiciary is the branch that should hold the two other arms of government – the Executive and Legislature – to ransom. Because it wields the power of life and death over all of us. Because it has the final say – at least here on earth. In heaven it may be Jehovah (Who has the final say/Jehovah, Jehovah, Jehovah/Has the final say!). But here on earth, the judiciary has the final say. It is the only branch of government empowered to overrule the two other arms. In doing that, brilliant judges who are so minded have been known to make laws while interpreting the law. They have the powers to strip anyone – including even the most powerful office holders – of privileges and entitlements; they are known (in other climes at least) to strip governors and presidents of their office; even sending them to jail. Why, then, are they effeminate here? Who or what emasculated them?
I moaned for the judiciary, often touted as the last hope of the common man and mourned for the common man himself when I read the intervention of Chidi Anselm Odinkalu, SAN, and former chairman of the Human Rights Commission. Shall we call it a dirge or requiem for the judiciary? It is titled “Yahaya Bello and a complicit judiciary”. I will return with parting shots.
“Josiah Majebi is the fifth Chief Judge of Kogi State (in north-central Nigeria) in four years and the fourth to exist almost entirely in the pocket of the state governor. He has been in office as substantive Chief Judge since the beginning of February 2023, having acted in that role since 26 June 2022 when his predecessor, Richard Olorunfemi, retired. Henry Olusiyi served in that office for just under seven months from the end of June 2020 until January 2021. Sunday Otuh, who succeeded him, spent eight months in office before retiring in September 2021.
The last Chief Judge of Kogi State who attempted to hold that office with dignity and independence, Nasir Ajanah, paid with his life, unmourned and exiled from the state. He was the second Chief Judge of the state to be politically lynched by the government of Kogi State in one decade.
At the beginning of April 2008, the Kogi State House of Assembly, defying an order of the state High Court, adopted a resolution asking the state governor to remove long-serving Chief Judge of the state, Umaru Eri. On that basis, then acting governor, Clarence Olafemi, promptly announced the sack of the Chief Judge on 2 April, 2008 and designated another judge, Sam Ota, to act in his place.
In his defence, Umaru Eri claimed that his crime was that he had declined the request of the politicians to act as go-between in bribing the election petition tribunal on behalf of the then state governor whose election was in dispute. On 16 May, 2008, AlabaAjileye, a judge of the High Court of Kogi State, reversed the sack and reinstated Umaru Eri.
Eleven years later, on 18 June 2019, AlabaAjileye presided again in deciding a case that seemed uncannily to reprise issues in his earlier decision. As with the 2008 decision, the claimant in 2019 was another Chief Judge of Kogi State, Nasir Ajanah, with his Chief Registrar, Yahya Adamu. The defendants included the Kogi State House of Assembly, its Speaker, and the state governor, Yahaya Bello.
At the directive of Gov. Yahaya Bello, the Secretary to the Government of Kogi State wrote on 14 November, 2018 to Chief Judge Nasir Ajanah, asking him to provide “the payroll of judicial staff for the ongoing pay parade of civil servants in the state”. At the time, the governor was a defendant in the court of the Chief Judge; so the Chief Registrar responded to the letter and explained that the judiciary was a self-accounting and co-equal branch of government supervised by the state Judicial Service Commission.
An affronted Gov. Bello wrote under his own name to Walter Onnoghen, then Chief Justice of Nigeria and chairman of the National Judicial Council (NJC), asking the NJC to find the Chief Judge guilty of misconduct requiring that he “step aside and (an) Acting Chief Judge (be) allowed to take his place”.
While his petition was still waiting for the attention of the NJC, Yahaya Bello resorted to political self-help. He referred the perceived effrontery of Nasir Ajannah to the State House of Assembly, which promptly constituted an investigation committee. The Chief Judge sued. While his suit was pending, on 2 April, 2019, the State House of Assembly adopted a resolution asking Yahaya Bello to remove the Chief Judge and also requiring disciplinary action against the Chief Registrar. On 18 June, 2019, AlabaAjileye sitting at the High Court of Kogi State in Kotonkarfe, determined that the Kogi State House of Assembly and the governor acted unlawfully in seeking to remove the Chief Judge.
The reaction of the governor was bestial. He first went after AlabaAjileye, a man of courage and learning whose judicial record was unblemished. With a doctorate degree in law, AlabaAjileye is an expert in the rarefied subject of digital evidence. Following this judgment, however, Yahaya Bello’s government made it known that they could no longer guarantee his safety. Yet, when he was put forward for elevation to the Court of Appeal, the same Kogi State government actively blocked it. A man who would easily have adorned the Supreme Court with distinction, AlabaAjileye retired from the High Court in February 2023 and has since then forged a career as a scholar and academic.
Turning to the state Chief Judge meanwhile, Yahaya Bello made life unbearable for Nasir Ajannah. He began by banishing the man from official state functions. When Chief Judge Ajannah attended the swearing-in of the new Grand Khadi of Kogi State on 21 May, 2020, the Chief Security Officer to Yahaya Bello informed him that the governor gave a directive that he should not be allowed to attend the function.
In the middle of the COVID-19 pandemic, Gov. Bello made Nasir Ajannah persona non grata in the state. As a result, he was forced into internal displacement in Abuja, where his personal arrangements were worse than transitory. While in hiding in Abuja, Nasir Ajannah contracted COVID and died in isolation in Gwagwalada in the Federal Capital Territory on 28 June, 2020. His death went unacknowledged and even the institutions of the judiciary were reluctant to mourn his passing.
The men who followed Nasir Ajannah in the office of Chief Judge of Kogi State learned to stoke the vanities of Yahaya Bello and avoid his anger. Ahead of his departure from office at the end of eight years as governor of Kogi State in January 2024, Josiah Majebi as Chief Judge and chairman of the Kogi State Judicial Service Commission prepared a list of candidates for nomination as judges of the High Court of Kogi State. At the top of the list was a wife to Yahaya Bello, the basis of whose claim to the nomination was the dutiful fulfillment of the duties of connubium in Yahaya Bello’s bedroom. For the Chief Judge, it was also proof that he had truly abjured any pretensions to a mind of his own.
Alarmed at what they saw as perversion of the system of judicial appointments, a group of seven Senior Advocates of Nigeria from the State wrote to Josiah Majebi to dissuade him from this course of action. In January 2024, they sued, challenging his judicial nominations. Pending the outcome, the NJC suspended the process of appointment to the Kogi State judiciary. On 18 April, 2024, James Omotoso, a judge of the Federal High Court in Abuja, many of whose judgments usually have something of a smell problem about them, implausibly ruled that these senior lawyers had no legitimate interest in the process of appointment of judges in their state and that, in any case, the discretion of the NJC in appointment of judges was effectively not open to review!
It was the day after Yahaya Bello’s chosen successor and blood relative, Usman Ododo, chose to turn his predecessor into a fugitive from legal process and two days after Mr. Ododo opened his case in the petition questioning the lawfulness of his election as governor of Kogi State. As a bungling Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) waited to arrest Yahaya Bello in Abuja, one I. A. Jamil, a judge of the High Court of Kogi State, issued an order claiming to restrain the Commission from doing its job.
According to the order of the judge, the case, which was filed over two months earlier on 8 February, was hurriedly assigned while the siege was on-going in Abuja, was argued, heard and decided and the judge quickly signed the order and handed it to Gov. Ododo to take with him to Abuja from where he spirited his cousin away from legal process in a blaze of gunfire! The court was almost assuredly disingenuous about the date of filing. In all likelihood, the case was filed the same day on 17 April, 2024 and then back-dated!
The EFCC now claims it has declared Yahaya Bello a fugitive but the real question will be how a compromised and complicit judiciary will treat the nomination of his unqualified wife as a judge and the petition against the declaration of his violent cousin as governor of Kogi State. The judges who currently control Nigeria’s criminal politics now must show how much they owe Yahaya Bello!”
Knowledgeable men and women have said that the core problem of the judiciary is the process of recruitment to the Bench. Where merit is sacrificed on the altar of godfatherism, competence takes the back seat while incompetence and mediocrity strut the stage like a colossus. Wherever corruption is rife, justice takes fight!
I was filled with regrets after watching a documentary by the Depot and Petroleum Products Marketers Association of Nigeria (DAPPMAN) titled ‘Fuel Subsidy: Lifting a Nation’s Burden’. I started ruminating over what might have been. In the opening, Dame Winifred Akpani, founder and CEO of NorthWest Petroleum and Gas Company, reminds us of how fuel subsidy came into being. It was in the mid-1970s when oil boom made us believe we were so rich we could buy the entire world. It probably made sense at the time that as Nigeria was raking in billions of dollars from oil export, some of the benefits should be passed to Nigerians via cheap/fixed prices of petroleum products.
Akpani recalls how the military government added petroleum products to the price control list in 1977, officially introducing fuel subsidy in Nigeria. I am looking back today and thinking: if we knew the inter-generational quagmire we were getting ourselves into, we probably would have done things differently. If we sit down to calculate the billions of dollars we have sunk into fuel subsidy since 1977 and how this could have developed the critical infrastructure necessary for Nigeria’s development, we cannot but wonder what might have been. But rather than get stuck with lamenting about the past and what might have been, we should be learning from our mistakes as we head into the future.
Let me state this clearly: I am not against subsidies. The US, the global flag bearer of market economy, heavily subsidises its domestic agriculture, and some aspects of energy, housing, and car manufacturing — all geared towards increasing investment in those sectors. The UK, which is also a market economy, subsidises areas identified as key to economic growth, notably the automotive sector, aerospace and clean energy. Public transport fares are capped and government pays part of the difference, which runs into billions of pounds yearly. But government shares the subsidy burden with commuters through yearly adjustments in the fares charged by the transport companies.
The problem with Nigeria is that we subsidise the wrong points in the production and consumption chain. This is because we probably asked the wrong questions or came up with the wrong answers while designing the policies. The questions should be: why are we subsiding? Can we afford it? How are we going to fund it? How long will the subsidy be in place? What happens when the funds are not flowing like rivers again? Should we be responsible for 100 percent of the subsidy or should we stick to a percentage and pass the rest to Nigerians so that regular adjustments can be made? We went for a blanket, no-questions-asked subsidy policy and Nigerians became infinitely entitled.
This was a major negative outcome of the oil boom. Rather than see the boom as a boon and deftly utilise it to develop other critical sectors and build a robust economic base for Nigeria, we thought the petrodollars would continue to flow without let or hinderance till the end of the world. We plunged into a spending spree, flooding the country with an unsustainable expenditure profile. Isn’t it remarkable that the era we still celebrate as the best in Nigeria’s economic development — the 1950s and 1960s — was when there were neither fuel nor electricity subsidies? Public funds were concentrated on education and building infrastructure by the federal and regional governments.
Today, we lament that some Asian countries that were at par with us in the 1960s have overtaken us and become world beaters. I have never disguised my belief that oil booms have done more harm than good to us. Not just to the economy, but also to politics, security and public morality. Nigeria was not a perfect country before the oil boom — after all, there were several cases of corruption and abuse of office before and after Independence — but the impunity that came with oil wealth is beyond compare. We moved from an era of “10 percent” corruption to the age of phantom contracts. Insane impunity! We have moved from robbing revenues to looting loans. Insane!
Let me be fair. By introducing energy and meal subsidies in the 1970s, the military governments obviously meant well, even if their economics was questionable. With high crude oil prices, petroleum products also became more expensive. Our leaders were probably asking themselves: why should Nigerians pay more for petrol? Shouldn’t cheap products be a fringe benefit of being oil producers? We also needed to encourage more Nigerians to have university education by introducing a number of incentives. You can fault their choices but you cannot fault their desire to make life more comfortable for Nigerians. Rather than cry over spilt milk, we should be thinking about the lessons.
Lesson No 1: never introduce a privilege that you cannot sustain. Withdrawing what has come to be seen as an entitlement is akin to courting war. Gen Olusegun Obasanjo discovered as much when he tried to reduce or remove subsidies when oil prices began to fall. While the boom was a feast for us, it was a funeral for industrialised countries. They began taking measures to reduce fuel consumption: manufacturing fuel-efficient cars and introducing the “pool car” system in offices to encourage sharing, among others. The US — the world’s biggest consumer of petroleum products at the time (and till today) — also started oil exploration in the Gulf of Mexico. You see, they did not go to sleep.
The biggest implication of these initiatives was that oil demand started dropping and prices began to fall. Obasanjo, on becoming head of state in 1976 following the assassination of Gen Murtala Muhammed, had started preaching the gospel of agriculture, launching Operation Feed the Nation to encourage Nigerians to be individually and collectively self-sufficient in food production. In 1978, he increased fees payable in the universities — although tuition remained free — and reduced the meal subsidy, raising the cost from N1.50 to N2 per ticket. Hostel accommodation fee tripled from N30 per session to N90. (Ironically, it was still N90 in 1989 when I enrolled at the University of Lagos).
Like I said, never introduce a privilege that you cannot sustain. Be ready for war if you want to withdraw it. University students, under the auspices of the National Union of Nigerian Students (NUNS), rejected the reduction of these subsidies and embarked on a nationwide protest, unforgettably tagged “Ali Must Go” (or, comically, “Ali Mungo”). The students demanded the resignation of Col Ahmadu Ali, then minister of education, because of the astronomical fee increases. At the end of the protests, which the military and police tried to suppress, there were at least eight dead bodies. That did not change anything as Obasanjo insisted the increases were necessary.
Lesson No 2: adjustment is no child’s play. As most Nigerian leaders have discovered in the last 50 years, it is easier to maintain the status quo than to disrupt it. Most African countries do not subsidise energy consumption. As soon as oil and gas prices change in the international market, citizens expect adjustments in energy prices: petrol, diesel, electricity and all. There is nothing to debate. Ghanaians and Togolese are not poorer than Nigerians yet they pay the market prices for energy. The difference is that Nigerians have successfully given petrol a political status. We buy yams, beans and tomatoes at market prices but treat petrol as a political entitlement. Yes, since 1977.
Adjusting prices and fees has become a perennial problem for both the government and the citizens. The government is always reluctant, or even scared, to make changes because they know the street can catch fire. The default response of the citizens, who are perpetually under economic pressure, is to resist any attempt to adjust prices and fees. The fact is that we are not used to it. It is not in our culture. Nigerians who migrated abroad are seeing the realities of price adjustments, although they console themselves with the fact that “we can see what the government is doing with the money”. Very well. People-led accountability is a democratic culture we also have to imbibe as Nigerians.
Lesson No 3: delayed adjustment comes with even more pains. When President Muhammadu Buhari came to office in 2015, two things were begging for attention: the exchange rate — which had become glaringly unsustainable with falling oil income — and petrol subsidy (please note that government stopped subsiding other fuels ages ago). The exchange rate was N197/$ while petrol was N87/litre. Buhari was reluctant to move the needle for one reason: the inflationary impact on millions of poor Nigerians. While that was considered socio-politically expedient, the economy was the worse for it. Some of the adjustments came rather late in the day and then stalled at some point.
By the time President Bola Tinubu assumed office in May 2023, he was faced with three tough options. One, retain the suicidal status quo and risk a return to the 1984-scale crisis when we started queuing up to buy rice and milk because of FX crunch and falling revenue. Two, adjust gradually, although there is a risk of getting mixed results. Three, go full blast, with the attendant short-term pains and long-term gains. Tinubu gave us the impression that he went full blast, but all I can see around me is chaos. It is glaring that there was no plan and his government is just making things up per time. The PR machine is doing very well — I give them credit for that — but I think we are stuck.
Nevertheless, the basis of my argument today — after watching that beautiful documentary produced by Ademola Adedoyin and Zik Zulu Okafor — is that the introduction of fuel subsidy in 1977 has hurt us more than we think. We created a culture of privilege that will be extremely hard to discard. Also, our failures to adjust to new realities in several areas of public expenditure since the oil boom era will continue to hurt us if we don’t change course. If we were adjusting where and when necessary all along, we would not need to be facing sudden killer shocks all the time. We have gone too deep into the abyss. We need a miraculous reorientation to be able to change our ways.
AND FOUR OTHER THINGS…
EFCC VS BELLO
The American International School Abuja (AISA) has refunded the fees paid for the children of Mr Yahaya Bello, according to the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC). Bello, the former governor of Kogi state who is engaged in a running media drama with the commission, allegedly paid $760,910 in advance as fees for five of his children from the coffers of Kogi state. However, by a previous court ruling in the case of Chief James Ibori, the ex-governor of Delta state, the money will now have to be returned to Kogi state. And the current governor of Kogi state is Mr Usman Ododo, who was handpicked and installed by Bello. Are you thinking what I am thinking? Rebound.
MEDIA MENTOR
When I was studying mass communication at the University of Lagos, the common joke at the department was that those who wanted to specialise in journalism would die poor and those who wanted to make money should go into PR and advertising (PRAD). Mr Azu Ishiekwene, who has seen it all as a reporter, writer, editor and publisher, has a better story to tell the current and future generations in his book, ‘Writing for Media and Monetising It’, published by Premium Times Books and due for release anytime soon. It is the basics of journalism and media entrepreneurship. I have received an advance copy and I am currently unlearning and relearning journalism. Reinvention.
GOOD NIGHT, MALLAM
Mallam Abdul Ndubuisi Okwechime, the journalist who came into limelight in 1986 for daring the devil to interview Lawrence Anini, then Nigeria’s most wanted armed robber, abruptly drew his last breath on April 19, 2024. He was my friend despite being my senior in age. We met in 1998 when he spearheaded the media campaign of the late Alhaji MD Yusufu, who was a presidential aspirant. I was recently on the phone with Mallam Abdul, who had suddenly fallen ill. He encouraged me to always call rather than send texts because he was finding it difficult recognising alphabets. I was devastated. I didn’t know the worst was still coming. May God comfort his loved ones. Painful.
NO COMMENT
Trust Nigeria to always provide premium content. On Wednesday, 118 inmates escaped from the Medium Security Custodial Centre in Suleja, Niger state. According to the Nigeria Correctional Service (NCoS), a rainfall ravaged parts of the prison and brought down the walls. The NCoS used the opportunity to cry out that the prison walls are generally weak because they were built — now you won’t want to believe this — during the colonial era. Nigeria gained independence from colonial rule 63 years ago and, in fact, we are still making use of a facility that was probably built 70 years ago without improving the structure. Is it because powerful people are not in that jail? Wonderful.
On many fronts, America is showcasing the many burdens and benefits of democracy. Most Washington politicians are united in their support for Israel. But out on the streets, many Americans are opposed to Israel’s raging genocidal onslaught on Gaza and other Palestinian enclaves. While Congress had little trouble approving a further $20 billion in military aid to Israel, there is anger on the streets and mostly on university campuses. Opposition to the naked aggression against Palestinians has united the American streets and campuses against political Washington. A gale of anti-semitic protests has recently endangered lives and interests associated with Israel. This has now been followed by a whirlwind of campus protests all over America and even beyond.
In American courts, Donald Trump has kept the judiciary busy with legal arguments which now sound more like staged one-man campaign talk shows. The court appearances for Trump’s multitude of criminal and civil transgressions have become opportunities for a rehash of his boring campaign messaging. In a sense, Trump and his advisers are testing the legal limits of liberal democracy. It is all about trying to justify the right of an authoritarian demagogue to impose his private ambition on America’s long established democratic institutions and traditions. Simply put, a political deviant and serial transgressor wants to return as president. Twice impeached, severally accused of infractions ranging from campaign fund malfeasance to dubious business records and dodgy book keeping, Mr. Trump insists on his entitlement to the throne. Whichever way the legal outcomes go, a lot of issues in American democracy are likely to come under severe test with each verdict in Trump’s litany of court cases.
By far the more concerning issue in the United States now is the series of pro-Palestinian protests and demonstrations now sweeping through the campuses of American universities. These are not just ordinary universities. They are mostly Ivy League universities. From Colombia to Yale, from Harvard to New York University, UCLA, University of Southern California to University of Pennsylvania, and Emory University, large groups of students of diverse nationalities have trooped out daily to protest against Israel’s violation of the rights of the Palestinian people in its prolonged war on Gaza and other Palestinian enclaves.
So far, the protests have disrupted normal academic and other activities on the various campuses. The police have made numerous arrests of the protesters in a bid to restore normalcy. Some of the universities have opted for closure and discontinuation of academic activities to avoid the protests degenerating into violent encounters and disruptions.
The pro-Palestinian protests have multiple implications for America’s democratic culture. The right to freedom of association and expression remains inviolable. But the responsibility of the political leadership to pursue foreign and domestic policies in line with the national interest are sacrosanct. The students have a right to protest actions and policies of government that run counter to their convictions. Normal civility demands that such protests should not be violent or infringe on the rights of those who do not share these convictions to go about their business.
In the affected campuses, however, the groundswell of these protests have been so huge that no normal academic and social activities can proceed on these campuses. While police and law enforcement have a responsibility to maintain law and order and protect the rights of students who may not share the beliefs and convictions of the protesters or want to join the protests, the scope and spread of the protests indicate a clear political line on the part of the student population. While no one expects the protesters to have carry the day, it is also true that no responsible political establishment can ride rough shod on the feelings of such a large body of protesters.
Throughout American history, the university campuses have served as theatres for the expression of political views and beliefs that often run counter to the political temper of Washington. On the Vietnam war, on Civil rights, on Black Lives Matter, on police brutality and systemic racism and variety of other sensitive public issues, the University campuses in the United states have consistently indicated an independent line of thinking that often runs counter to the main current of official Washington. Through these protests and demonstrations, the university campuses have been able, over time , to pressure politicians in Washington to at least listen to contrary views. At critical moments, such protests have succeeded in getting the government to reconsider aspects of foreign and domestic policy.
Already, some key politicians from Washington have visited a number of protesting campuses to appeal for calm and press home their perspective. The students have however stood their grounds, just as the pro-Israeli politicians have pressed their arguments. It is not likely that any argument will be strong enough to justify the long standing oppression of the Palestinians especially the blockage of their right to a free and independent homeland.
The present scene on America’s university campuses is reminiscent of happier days on Nigeria’s university campuses. There was a time from the immediate post independence days to the days of military rule when Nigerian university campuses served as the catalyst of social and political ideas for national unity and progress. For instance, it was Nigerian students at the University of Ibadan who staged massive protests to compel the newly independent Nigerian government against signing a defence pact with the departing British colonial government.
In the days of military dictatorship, Nigerian university students served as the remaining voice of democratic instincts. Students campaigned for the rights of common people, against authoritarian impositions and the habitual arbitrariness of military rule. Students protested against frequent petroleum price increases, against unlawful detentions of opposition figures. When in 1978 General Obasanjo’s education minister, Colonel Ahmadu Ali, tried to increase university tuition frees, in Nigerian universities, students rose in unison during the “Ali Must Go” demonstrations and pressed for his removal from office.
From the 1960s to early 1990s, the Nigerian university campus remained a litmus ground for testing public policies. Political and military leaders sought a certain degree of acceptability among university students and their lecturers. Understandably the Nigerian university campus also became the hotbed of radical ideas. During the ideological polarization of the Cold War era, our universities became a friendly terrain for radical progressive anti bourgeois ideas. This led to an understandable radicalization of student union politics and even the politics of organized unionism among academics. The National Association of Nigerian Students (NANS) became an arrowhead of radical student unionism. These were the origins of ASUU’s aggressive trade unionism which has largely survived to recent times.
There was consequently a certain unanimity of perspectives on national issues among students in campuses all over the country. From Ife to Nsukka, from University of Ibadan to Ahmadu Bello University, from Port Harcourt to Calabar and Ilorin, Nigerian students and academics were united in their perspectives on military rule, corruption, the plight of the poor and the commonality of poverty among underprivileged Nigerians.
As undergraduates then, we shared a common ideal of a better nation. We trooped out to protest unkind policies. We faced police truncheons and tear gas and even military jackboots and live bullets. We did not habour these silly divisions along ethnicity, religion and region. We did not despise the poor but fought for the smashing of the chains of poverty. We thought our youth and idealism was enough to transform the country into a happy place for all. For us then, the Nigerian revolution was an achievable and imminent possibility. Our idealism contrasted with whatever ideas were fueling the policies of politicians and military leaders in Lagos and later Abuja. We held strong views on contemporary issues and most times embraced alternative truths to those of governments of the day.
We took a stand on most domestic and foreign policy issues that were burning central at different times. We took a stand on Southern Africa; on independence for Zimbabwe, Namibia and Angola. We vehemently stood shoulder to shoulder with the Murtala and Obasanjo governments on Apartheid. We stood with the world on the Palestinian struggle and the heroic stance of the then Palestinian Liberation Organization (PLO) of Yasser Arafat.
Key politicians understood the crucial place of the campus as a vital platform for the galvanization and aggregation of ideas for national development. Key politicians therefore often chose to deliver the annual Convocation lectures of the various key universities as a way of generating novel ideas for the development of the nation. Such strategic lectures also served as means of bridging the distance between town and gown and as praxis in the struggle for a better society.
It would be recalled that at the height of the debate of how best to accommodate the military in future power arrangements, Nigeria’s first President Dr. Nnamdi Azikiwe used the opportunity of the convocation lecture at the University of Nigeria, Nsukka, to advocate the theory of Diarchy as a power sharing arrangement between civilian politicians and military leaders. Similarly, Chief Obafemi Awolowo used one of the convocation lectures at Ife to question the efficacy of fruitless probes of past governments as an anti corruption tool. Those were the glorious days of the Nigerian university campus. Then they were universities. There were scholars, patriotic students and as Achebe lamented, there was once a nation.
In today’s Nigeria, the campus is virtually dead either as a centre of national consciousness or an incubator of new ideas. The universities have died as cultural laboratories or as the breeding ground of a responsible national elite. The Nigerian university campus has died as a centre of serious positive thinking or purposive national action for progress. In place of fiery nationalism and idealism, we now have a student unionism that apes and imitates the decadent culture of our nasty politics.
Contest for NANS leadership has become a sad replica of the politics of ‘stomach infrastructure’ and money bazaars. When elected into office, the leadership of our students unions want to drive huge SUVs like Abuja politicians. They appoint innumerable personal aides with nomenclatures borrowed from our wasteful national political culture and idiom. The broad mass of our students are now united by cultism, cyber crimes, bloody rituals and killer squads in a hunt for human body parts for ritual.
Our student population has degenerated into conclaves of cults, cyber crimes and a descent into the dark precincts of occultism , witchcraft and ritual. Places established to pursue enlightenment and modernism have now become covens of modern day witches and ritual murderers. At other times, the only language that flies around our campuses is that of quick mega cash fuelled by the hunger for designer clothing, outrageous automobiles and luxury mansions. Every undergraduate aspires to become an internet ‘influencer’, stage musician, naked model or narcotics courier irrespective of the courses they are registered to study.
Among the academics themselves, we now have serial racketeering for contracts, a thriving trade of blackmail of ‘sex for marks’. Professors are now standing trial for openly blackmailing their female students into sexual rumps sometimes in open offices. The deployment of juju and cultism for promotions and appointments have replaced the previous dedication to merit, national good and the pursuit of academic excellence.
As America’s university campuses continue to witness a wave of protests of universal moral condemnation of America’s support for Israel’s systematic genocide in Palestine, we need to look again at what has killed the Nigerian university.
Three ugly forces have invaded our university campuses: dark money, bad politics and godless religion. To rescue our universities and redirect them back to being factors of national unity, progress and progressive development, we require a political leadership with the will to chase away and neutralize this trinity of negativity.