You cannot quarrel about how a man tells his story. It is his business. However, the pseudo-autobiography of the former military president, General Ibrahim Babangida, is more than the retired general telling a story of his own life. A Journey in Service is a long, tortuous journey to penitence, which arrives at its destination, if it does at all, leaving its memory behind.

After 32 years of deflecting, dissembling, dodging and denial, the former military president finally gets as close as possible to remorse, then stops short of saying sorry for his betrayal of his country by blaming several dead and a few feeble living.

And yet, Babangida, being Babangida, reserved the best part of his book for himself. He left the worst for those who might have challenged his account and others he believes should have forgotten by now. Babangida will not change, but that’s okay. He shouldn’t also make the mistake of thinking we have all forgotten.  

Whitewash

The prologue says the book is “not about finding blame, inventing excuses or whitewashing known facts.” However, apart from chapters 1 and 2 on his early childhood, chapters 11 and 13 on his home front and retirement, and perhaps one or two other chapters in between, where he struggled to restrain himself, nine of the 12 chapters of the 440-page book are filled with blame, inventions, and whitewashing.

I start with his relationship with the press. In chapter 6, entitled, “Mounting the Saddle, Defining a Military President,” after throwing Major General Muhammadu Buhari and Brigadier Tunde Idiagbon under the bus for miscarrying their “initial rescue mission,” he praised his government for abolishing Decree 4, passed by Buhari, and granting state pardon to two journalists, Nduka Irabor and Tunde Thompson of The Guardian, who had been sentenced under the decree.

Babangida said his heroic act of press redemption warmed his relationship with the media.

The other side of the story

That’s one side of the story, done, like many things Babangida did, with a hidden agenda. Here’s what a report by the media watchdog Media Rights Agenda (MRA) said: “The regime of General Ibrahim Babangida (August 27, 1985 to August 26, 1993) has the dubious distinction of having closed down or proscribed more newspapers and magazines than any other government in Nigeria’s history.

“Forty-one newspapers and magazines were victims of this practice under the administration; some closed down or proscribed on two different occasions. Twenty-five newspapers and magazines were shut down or proscribed by the Babangida administration in 1993 alone following public agitation for a return to civil democratic rule…”

The clampdown

The clampdown didn’t start in 1993. It began in 1987, roughly two years after Babangida came to power. The first target of this press saviour in shining armour was Newswatch magazine, which was banned for six months for publishing a report deemed injurious to the government’s political bureau. This was barely one year after one of the founders of Newswatch, Dele Giwa, was killed in a parcel bomb.

Press freedom went downhill from then on, with the government shutting down PUNCH, Concord, Guardian, and Sketch, among others. Another matter is how the military president, even out of office, manipulated the election of newspaper publishers.

MRA reported that three newspapers owned by John West publications were shut down for publishing the Jennifer Madike stories that “embarrassed the president’s wife.” And when William Keeling, a British journalist with the Financial Times, dared to publish a story alleging that about $5 billion windfall from Gulf War 1 was diverted, Babangida’s government wasted no time bundling him out of the country.

Seduced by power

Those too young or indebted to Babangida to see clearly may believe what they choose. But it would be defamatory of reptiles to call the man a chameleon. When General Yakubu Gowon said in the Foreword that being a soldier and a politician was a virtue in Babangida, the old man was being economical with the truth. As Marshal Davout, one of Napoleon’s most outstanding soldiers, said, the best soldiers abhor politics. They take a professional stand. Many who are seduced lose their way.

A Journey in Service reminds us of how Babangida sucked in the crème de la crème of the academia to boost the legitimacy of his regime. Regrettably, this handshake across the Ivory Tower, which later extended to the judiciary, labour and sections of civil society, became a deadly stranglehold. Babangida’s book doesn’t contain a hint of the poisonous liaison.

We read nothing, for example, about how Babangida inflicted further damage on academia. Under Gowon, the field was already dented by awful interference as military administrators began appointing university visitors.

Our Gorbachev?

But it got even worse. In 1988, Babangida, who framed himself as Nigeria’s answer to Mikhail Gorbachev, ordered the deportation of Patrick Wilmot, a sociology teacher at the Ahmadu Bello University, for teaching “what he was not paid to teach.”

Yet, if you think Babangida’s attempt to rewrite history was limited only to the press and academia, then you underestimate the disservice of the book. Chapter 12, “Transition to Civil Rule and the June 12 Saga,” is at the heart of the book: it reveals Babangida for who he is – duplicity, the milder version of which is an evil genius. However, anyone remembering this trying period in Nigeria will pinch himself at Babangida’s convenient attempt to take responsibility by shifting the blame.

In this chapter, he blamed the Association for Better Nigeria (ABN) for going to court on the eve of the election. Then, he blamed Justice Bassey Ikpeme, an agent of his own Attorney General and Minister of Justice, Clement Akpamgbo, for granting the order to stop the election.

Then, he blamed the National Electoral Commission (NEC) chairman, Professor Humphrey Nwosu, for stopping the announcement of the election result. He blamed Nduka Irabor for announcing the annulment of the election from a rough sheet of paper, claiming it was without the knowledge of Admiral Augustus Aikhomu, his second-in-command.

Abacha as scapegoat

Finally, he blamed General Sani Abacha for leading the fifth columnists in his government to sabotage the process. This comprehensive blame account indicts everyone around the boss. Still, it leaves the boss a generous latitude to accept responsibility for the glaring and monumental lapses without apologising to the country he had betrayed.

“These nefarious ‘inside’ forces opposed to the elections have outflanked me”, Babangida said he remembers saying on Page 275. He didn’t say to whom he was speaking. A whitewash by the whitewasher-in-chief never looked whiter.

What did he do to “outflank” the “nefarious forces?” By his own account, he convened the Armed Forces Ruling Council (AFRC) after he claimed announcements stopping the elections were being made without his authority.

He admitted knowing when Nwosu stopped announcing the result without his approval and when Irabor made the so-called unauthorised announcement. Even before that, his minister Akpamgbo, at whose behest he insinuated that Justice Ikpeme may have acted, attended the AFRC meeting with him. Yet, the commander-in-chief present amidst the chaos lacked the courage to call the shots.

He did something, though. He yielded to the law of self-preservation, the love of self, and then, only later, like a scoundrel, claimed he was stepping aside for the love of country. He left behind the Interim National Government, a contraption he knew wouldn’t last.

More questions than answers

Writing off the book as a triumph of cowardice and dissembling would be harsh. There are a few strands of consistency. For example, Babangida admitted that Dele Giwa was his friend but didn’t say and has never said what became of the multiple investigations into how Giwa was killed by a parcel bomb decades after the tragic event. Yet, Giwa was his friend.

Babangida said 159 persons, mainly middle-level military officers, were killed in the C-130 NAF aircraft crash in Ejigbo, Ikeja, because of poor aircraft maintenance, but failed to say whose responsibility it was to maintain the aircraft or what happened to the negligent officers in charge.

His Mamman Vatsa coup story was also conveniently consistent. Vatsa had always envied him from secondary school, even though they sometimes shared bed spaces and clothes. He wasn’t surprised Vatsa would bribe soldiers—one of them with N50k—to put his head on a plate despite the consequences of such a treasonable act.

Plea for Vatsa

Why didn’t he commute the death sentences on Vatsa and others despite the cloud of suspicion around their sentencing and his promise of a review after strong appeals by many, including Nigeria’s leading literary lights, Wole Soyinka, Chinua Achebe and JP Clark? Again, he was conveniently consistent. It’s an elementary fact, he says, that plotters don’t live to tell the story, except if, like him, they succeed.

But Babangida conveniently forgot at least two notable exceptions of commutation: Kukoi Samba Sanyang’s failed coup against Gambia’s President Dawda Jawara in 1981 and Olusegun Obasanjo/Shehu Musa Yar’Adua failed coup against Abacha in 1995.

Perhaps the book’s most surprising accounts included his admission that his friend MKO Abiola won the June 12, 1993, election hands down and his rare praise of Buhari for cleaning up his mess by acknowledging Abiola as “a former head of state” 25 years later. This is surprising because when I interviewed him nine years ago, he said the presidential election result was “inconclusive.” He knew he was lying at the time.

The five-letter word

It would be remarkable if Babangida took responsibility for his mistakes and apologised. He is right that life can only be understood backwards. However, to complete the quote by the Danish philosopher and existentialist Soren Kierkegaard, whom he did not name but quoted in part, honesty in living forward is essential for understanding life backwards.

Instead of the five-letter word – sorry – Babangida tried vainly to use 111,281 words to exorcise the demon within. He failed. In his book On Writing, Stephen King, one of my favourite authors, said honesty is necessary for good writing. Babangida’s pseudo-memoir fails that test.                     

A heartfelt thank you…

My profound thank you to President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, a man of all seasons, and all who sent messages and prayers on my 60^th birthday. I’m overwhelmed. May your kind wishes and prayers return to bless you and yours.

One of the grandchildren of the late General Sani Abacha attacked General Ibrahim Babangida last weekend in an angry post on X. Titled, ‘My grandfather saved the life of a coward’, it features a photo of Babangida and Abacha holding hands. But the first line carries the punch: “If the lifespans of these two consequential figures were reversed, this treachery would never be discharged by General Abacha.” While I am not interested in the family feud between the Babangidas and the Abachas, there is an important lesson we should not miss: Those who hold the levers of power must always be mindful of the consequences of their actions – not only on themselves but on their families.

That lesson may be lost on the dead, but it is important for the living. On that score, I sympathise with the Abacha family. People may react differently to the dark or heroic parts of their ancestry, but I understand that it can be upsetting to hear unpleasant tales about those we love. “It’s generally not in human character to be all good or all bad–maybe there are positive features of a disgraced ancestor that go some way to compensate or counterbalance whatever evil they did…” Daniel Maurice wrote in ‘How to deal with unwelcome family history discoveries.’ But where such people held positions of public trust, there is practically nothing anybody can do to change perceptions shared by many.

One may argue that Abacha is the only villain today because he is dead. That is the cross his family may have to carry. But the ultimate lesson is for those who are still alive. Speaking on the desperation for power that fuels all kinds of misbehaviour by politicians and public officials in the country, former President Goodluck Jonathan made a profound statement last week, “We, Nigerians, celebrate the wrong thing. And I believe one day, the country will get to the level where people will reject bad behaviour…” said Jonathan who then added: “Maybe one day, we will have two big buildings in Abuja where we will put pictures of people—whether dead or alive—who have messed up this country so that their grandchildren will know their forefathers were part of Nigeria’s problems.”

Last Thursday, a friend forwarded to me a crisp message: “Today in Abuja, all the oppressors of Nigeria gathered in one room. To celebrate one of their own.” If we examine the message from the prism of political leadership,  assembled were General Yakubu Gowon who spent nine years in power; Chief Olusegun Obasanjo who spent 11 years in power (in both military and civilian capacity); Babangida who spent eight years; General Abdulsalami Abubakar who spent a year (less just a few days); Dr Goodluck Jonathan who spent five years and President Bola Tinubu who is nudging towards his second-year anniversary. So, cumulatively, these men have led the country for 36 of the last 60 years. When you combine that with all the richest men and women in the country as well as numerous former vice presidents, serving and former ministers, serving and former governors, against the background of the reality of Nigerian condition, it is difficult to fault the message.

What is remarkable is that anyone who has followed the overwhelming reactions to Babangida’s book would think that the only thing he wrote about was the June 12 election. There is so much more to read and learn about the complexities of policy, governance, issues of nation building, what it meant to be a military leader, and of course snippets of our history. But June 12, the Babangida albatross, overrides everything else. Without the annulment of that election, Babangida’s era could easily have gone down as transformative. And evidence abounds: Third Mainland Bridge, relocation of the Federal Capital to Abuja, Federal Road Safety Corps (FRSC), liberalization of the banking sector and electronic media, private participation in the oil and gas sector. etc. Despite these historic achievements, the only thing that comes to mind at the mention of Babangida is the annulment of June 12. And as we have seen, it will take more than one book to change that. In life, some conditions are permanent.

Meanwhile, contrary to what some readers think, I am not writing a new book on the June 12 crisis. As a reporter during the era, I wrote four self-published books that are no longer readily available. The first, ‘Fortress on Quicksand’ was on the futile efforts by 23 presidential aspirants in the defunct Social Democratic Party (SDP) and National Republican Convention (NRC) before they were all disqualified and banned from contesting elections. It took me several months to get an old copy. The second, ‘POLITRICKS: National Assembly under Military Dictatorship’, detailed the intrigues of Babangida’s civilian legislature as a military president. Although originally printed at a shop in Mushin in August 1994, I republished it in 2010 with a foreword by then Senate President David Mark, a retired Brigadier General who happened to be one of the central characters in the June 12 story. The third, ‘Abiola’s Travails’ was published in August 1997 to mark his (Abiola’s) 60th birthday at a period he was in detention. ‘The Last 100 Days of Abacha’ was written in 2005 to warn against ‘Third Term’. So, what I have just done is to combine (and edit) them into one book for release, hopefully in June this year.

Since Abacha is no more, it is unfortunate for his family that they will have to carry the burden of what is in the public domain about their late patriarch. But for Babangida, the lesson of the moment is also clear: One single chapter can define a book. And a single action can define a life!

What is the Population of Nigeria?

In June 2013, then National Population Commission (NPC) chairman, Eze Festus Odimegwu, inadvertently spoke to the architecture of electoral malpractices in Nigeria. Responding to the request for assistance on constituency delimitation exercise by then Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) Chairman, Professor Attahiru Jega, Odimegwu said “The enumeration centers we have, some of them do not exist in reality. Some politicians bought them the way you will want to register voters, and some people will buy voter cards in order to have an advantage.” It goes without saying that once the number of enumeration areas is compromised, the integrity of the outcome of such exercise (whether census or election) becomes doubtful.  

But the real issue here is not about how our politicians try to ‘rig elections at source’. Rather it is the difficulty in ascertaining the real population of Nigeria without which there can be no proper planning. The United Nations (UN) recommends a national census enumeration for every country at least once every ten years. The last census in Nigeria was conducted 19 years ago in 2006! “I don’t know how long we will keep running away from census, and we keep deceiving and lying to ourselves, by running away from the truth,” former President Olusegun Obasanjo whose administration conducted the last census told the current NPC Chairman, Mr Isa Kwarra, during a courtesy call on him in Abeokuta three years ago.

At a meeting with a delegation from the NPC on Monday, President Bola Tinubu proposed to set up a committee that will solve the logistical problems that hamper the conduct of a new national census. “We must ascertain who we are, how many we are, and how to manage our data,” the president reportedly told his audience, including the Minister of Budget and Economic Planning Atiku Bagudu. “Without an accurate census, we can’t successfully plan for employment, agriculture and food security.”

As much as I agree with the president, he—perhaps more than anyone else—knows quite well that Nigeria has had a chequered history of attempting to count its population. Virtually every effort to conduct a credible national census has ended in controversy, acrimony and rejection by one section of the country or the other. Two (1973 and 1991) were in fact annulled. Perhaps more ironic is that one of the people described as “Confusionists” by Obasanjo for disputing the 2006 Population Census report is Tinubu. Lagos State, according to then Governor Tinubu, had 17,553,924 residents as against the 9,013,534 he claimed was ‘allocated’ by the NPC. “The figure is totally rejected … The database is faulty. It has to be discarded,” Tinubu said at the time.

I once took time to study population figures in several countries. Over the last 100 years, the annual growth rate is mostly between 1 and 3. I then juxtaposed this with that of pre-independence and post-independence Nigeria. In 1911 for instance, our population was 15.9 million but ten years later in 1921, it had become 18.7 million—an increase of 2.8 million. In 1931, the figure had increased by 1.3 million to give us a population of 20 million. Instructively, all these were consistent with the global pattern. The next census took place 21 years later in 1952 by which time our population was 30.3 million people. But from that period, things changed.

With independence and its politics, the 1962 census gave us an extra population of 14.9 million people, thus pushing the threshold to 45.6 million. A year later (when another census was conducted) an extra 10.5 million Nigerians had been added to give us a contentious figure of 55.7 million that was eventually discarded. Ten years later in 1973, another set of 24.1 million Nigerians had come on board to make 79.76 million, although that census figure was also jettisoned. There was no census until 1991 when our population was put at 88.5 million. The census that would follow came in 2006 by which time (within a period of 15 years), another 51.5 million Nigerians had been added to the population data to make 140 million people.

The implication of the foregoing is that between 1911 and 1952, our population grew from 18.7 million to 30.3 million, an increase of 62 percent in 41 years. But between 1952 and 2006, a period of 44 years, the same population grew from 30.3 million to 140 million, an increase of about 360 percent! How can we sustain a system based on such transparent fraud?

Why is a simple ‘headcount’ such a difficult thing to do in Nigeria? I suggest it is because population determines how much each of the 36 states and 774 local government areas collect from the Consolidated Revenue Fund (CRF) disbursed monthly by the Federation Account Allocation Committee (FAAC). Yet, at no other time has a real census been more critical than now to allow for proper national planning. We must wean our nation of the distributive politics of oil rent that is at the root of corruption in our country, including in our politics and data collection.

 Indeed, the absence of credible data accounts in large part for the state of our nation today. For instance, in a report on the mismanagement of the oil and gas sector in Nigeria in 2016, the Economist wrote: “…oil is also being stolen at a record rate and traders’ figures show output at well below the government’s figures. Information about Africa’s biggest oil industry is an opaque myriad of numbers. No one knows which ones are accurate; no one knows how much oil Nigeria actually produces. If there were an authoritative figure, the truly horrifying scope of corruption would be exposed.”  

The census provides requisite information needed by the government to develop policies that will help run effective public services. We therefore need credible data about our population and the different demographics if we are to successfully tackle the challenges that plague our country. But until we see population counts as an instrument for economic planning rather than for the allocation of rent (unearned resources), census will continue to be a problem in Nigeria. Sadly, with ethnic/sectional cleavages already becoming more and more pronounced two years to the next election, how do we conduct a census which will produce an outcome that is both credible and acceptable in a nation of distrustful people? 

The ball is now squarely in President Tinubu’s court!

Dangote Petroleum Refinery & Petrochemicals has slashed the price of Premium Motor Spirit (PMS), or petrol, for the second time this month. It has cut N65 off the previous price of N890, bringing it down to N825 per litre at the gantry (ex-depot). This follows a N60 reduction on February 1.

The ex-depot price has thus decreased from N950 per litre in January to the current price of N825 per litre, representing a reduction of N125 per litre within 26 days.

This recent price reduction will also ensure that Nigerians pay between N860 and N865 per litre for petrol at the pump in Lagos.

In a statement from the first privately owned petroleum refinery in Africa, it was announced that the price adjustment will take effect from Thursday, February 27, and is intended to provide essential relief to Nigerians.

"This strategic price adjustment is designed to provide essential relief to Nigerians in celebration of the Ramadan season, while also supporting President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s economic recovery policy by alleviating the financial burden on the Nigerian populace.

"It is important to note that Dangote Petroleum Refinery has consistently lowered the prices of petrol and other refined petroleum products to the benefit of Nigerians. This marks the second reduction of PMS prices in February 2025, following a previous decrease of N60 earlier in the month. Additionally, in December 2024, during the yuletide period, the refinery reduced the price of PMS by N70.50, from N970 to N899.50 per litre, as part of its commitment to easing the cost of living and providing relief to Nigerians during the holiday season," the statement read.

The refinery highlighted that previous reductions have positively impacted the overall cost of living, benefiting various sectors of the economy. They also helped ensure that Nigerians did not experience the typical fuel scarcity and price hikes associated with the yuletide season.

Dangote reiterated that its high-quality products, which have become a favourite in both domestic and international markets, will remain available nationwide, particularly through its key partners—MRS Holdings, AP (Ardova Petroleum), and Heyden—at market-friendly rates.

"Nigerians will be able to purchase high-quality Dangote petrol at the following prices across our partners’ retail outlets: For MRS Holdings stations, it will be sold for N860 per litre in Lagos, N870 per litre in the South-West, N880 per litre in the North, and N890 per litre in the South-South and South-East regions, respectively.

"The same product will also be available at the following prices in AP (Ardova Petroleum) and Heyden stations: N865 per litre in Lagos, N875 per litre in the South-West, N885 per litre in the North, and N895 per litre in the South-South and South-East," it added.

Dangote Petroleum Refinery assured the public of a consistent supply of petroleum products, with sufficient reserves to meet domestic demand and a surplus for export, thereby boosting the country’s foreign exchange earnings.

The refinery called on marketers to support this initiative, ensuring that Nigerians remain the primary beneficiaries of this effort.

"This collective action will contribute to the broader economic recovery plan led by His Excellency, President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, who is committed to making Nigeria self-sufficient in refined petroleum products and positioning the country as a leading oil export hub," it concluded.

Dangote Petroleum Refinery, which has exported its products to Europe, America, Asia, and other regions, recently supplied jet fuel to Saudi Arabia. The refinery has confirmed it holds over 500 million litres of petrol in storage, enough to meet Nigeria's petrol demand for several days. Additionally, the refining capacity of the 650,000 barrel per day refinery has surpassed Nigeria's average daily requirement of 385,000 barrels.

We at Purple Women Foundation (PWF) are deeply disturbed and outraged by the deplorable treatment of Senator Natasha Akpoti-Uduaghan by Senate President Godswill Akpabio. The recent incident, where Senator Akpoti-Uduaghan was ordered to be removed from the chamber, is not just an attack on her as an individual but a glaring reflection of the entrenched misogyny in Nigerian politics.

The way the few women in the National Assembly are treated is unacceptable. The issue with Natasha is not new, it is part of the daily business of a male-dominated political system that thrives on disregarding, infantilising, and silencing women. Is it any wonder that there are only three female senators (out of 109 seats) eight female deputy governors (out of 36), and just 17 women in the House of Representatives (out of 360 seats) The exclusion of women is not accidental; it is deliberate.

This is not an isolated incident. Senator Akpoti-Uduaghan has repeatedly faced intimidation, condescension, and outright hostility from the Senate President, an attitude that extends towards the other two female senators. The remarks made by Mfon Patrick, reportedly an aide to Senator Akpabio, dismissing her response as “bottled-up anger” and making sexist, misogynistic comments about her appearance, are appalling and wholly unacceptable.

As a democratically elected representative of her constituency, Senator Akpoti-Uduaghan deserves to be treated with the utmost respect and dignity, equal to that of her male counterparts. It is wholly condemnable that she, and other women in the Senate, are daily subjected to such segregationism, impertinence and chauvinism. If this is how they treat women in the highest echelons of power, one can only shudder to think how they treat women behind closed doors.

Purple Women Foundation stands in unwavering solidarity with Senator Akpoti-Uduaghan.

We demand that the Senate President and the National Assembly take immediate steps to address the toxic, exclusionary, and misogynistic culture that has become synonymous with the 10th Assembly. We call on all Nigerians to condemn this pattern of behaviour and to advocate for a political system that is truly inclusive, respectful, and gender-balanced.

Women in leadership, especially in Nigerian politics, must be granted the same honour, dignity, and respect as their male counterparts. Anything less is an affront to justice and democracy.

Dignity, equity, and justice are not gendered words it's time we demand that our leaders uphold them for all. Stand up, speak out, and insist on a political system that respects and values women.

#RespectForWomen #SolidarityWithNatasha #PWFStandsWithWomen

Signed:

Adegbite Adenike

PWF Secretariat

No matter our points of origin in the Nigerian encounter, we all share the experience of a fascinating national journey. Ours is the story of a thrilling past, an engaging present, and a most promising future. Today’s event reminds us that we are not just here to remember the past but to actively shape the present and envision a bright future with hope—a future that each of you, with your unique perspectives and contributions, will help build.

The first aspect of today’s event is the public presentation of my book of memoirs: A JOURNEY IN SERVICE. This memoir, a culmination of over three decades of reflection, significantly contributes to our understanding of our national history. Through the public presentation of this book, I believe I am paying a huge part of my debt to the public. Over three decades after leaving office, the most constant question I have had to contend with is this: When will you tell your side of the story? Understandably, our period of service has somehow evoked, and rightly so, many questions and stories among our public. This book, which chronicles my experiences, decisions, and challenges during our national service, tries to answer some of these questions from my modest perspective.

My colleagues-in-arms and I presided over significant change and turbulent reform. We confronted monumental challenges in the economy, the polity, foreign affairs, and defence and security spheres of our national life. We surmounted obstacles, sought change from old ways, encountered unusual obstacles, and devised innovative solutions. We all sought to leave Nigeria a better place than we found it, often at great personal sacrifice and in the face of significant challenges. I am deeply aware of the inconveniences and sacrifices the public endured during this period, and I acknowledge and appreciate their resilience and commitment to progress.

Although the reform caused inconveniences for our people, we built lasting national institutions, some of which are still in place today.

Undoubtedly, credible, free, and fair elections were held on June 12, 1993. However, the tragic irony of history remains that the administration that devised a near-perfect electoral system and conducted those near-perfect elections could not complete the process. That accident of history is most regrettable. The nation is entitled to expect my expression of regret.

As the leader of a military administration, I accept absolute responsibility for all decisions taken under my watch. June 12 happened under my watch. Mistakes, oversights, and missteps happened in quick succession. But as I say in my book, in all matters, we acted in the supreme national interest so that Nigeria could survive. Our nation’s march to democracy was interrupted, a fact that I deeply regret. But Nigeria survived, and democracy is alive, a testament to our resilience and commitment to progress.

This book is part of my personal story of that encounter with national history. I did not travel alone. I undertook the challenging walk of leadership in the company of many patriots. Many are still here, while others have gone the way of all flesh. I cannot name all our allies and fellow travellers. But let me acknowledge the contributions of men like the late Augustus Aikhomu, Commodore Ebitu Ukiwe, General Ike Nwachukwu, Professor Bolaji Akinyemi, Dr Kalu Idika Kalu, Dr Tunji Olagunju, Chief Olu Falae (now Kabiyesi!), the late Professor Ojetunji Aboyade (who, by the way, was an outstanding man), the late Alhaji Rilwanu Lukman, the late Professor Humphrey Nwosu, the late Professor Omo Omoruyi, the late Professor Gordian Ezekwe, the late Professor Tam David-West, the late Professor Babatunde Fafunwa, the late Professor Olikoye Ransome-Kuti, the late Dr Shetima Mustapha, the late Alhaji Bunu Sheriff Musa, the late Rear-Admiral Patrick Koshoni, Lt-General Alani Akinrinade, General Aliyu Gusau, General Haliru Akilu, the former Senate President, Brigadier General David Mark, Brigadier General Tunde Ogbeha, Colonel Abubakar Dangiwa Umar, the late U. K. Bello, the late General Nuhu Bamali, Colonel Sambo Dasuki and a whole list of other prominent colleagues and friends, all of them fellow travellers in the challenging walk of leadership.

The second aspect of today’s event is establishing a befitting Presidential Library, which I consider a tribute to history and a contribution to the world of knowledge and leadership.

In this regard, I thank my friend and family member, our former Vice President, Namadi Sambo, who created a unique architectural design for the Presidential Library for my 80th Birthday. As you can see from the programme details, it is an outstanding design. Thank you, Mr. Vice President.

As leaders, our activities belong to history in the form of written records. These records will serve as evidence-in-chief for posterity long after we have gone. The proposed presidential library, which will house these records, would be a lasting tribute to our period of national service (1985-1993) and a resource for future leaders and scholars to learn from our experiences and decisions.

As I understand it, what members of the Library’s Board of Trustees have in mind is not a library as a museum where treasured historical documents and books are left to the dust. The plan is more of an interactive centre for lively exchange among people of different backgrounds and generations.

Once again, I sincerely appreciate and treasure your presence at this gathering. Your participation and the conversations following this event will undoubtedly contribute to a better Nigeria. I am grateful for your support and look forward to our shared journey towards a brighter future.

The task of recovering memory can never be easy. As I said in my acknowledgement pages in the book, apart from my publishers, Messrs Bookcraft, headed by Mr Bankole Olayebi, in writing this book, I acquired debts of gratitude to several other persons that deserve adequate mention. Dr Yemi Ogunbiyi (Mr Activity himself!), Dr Chidi Amuta, Mr Abiola Phillips, Mr Clement Fajimokun and Mr Tobi Soneye gave generously of their time, experience, and resourcefulness, not just in the area of research but also in painstaking editorial work. I thank Mr Oladimeji Bajela for the Book’s beautiful design.

Yemi Ogunbiyi’s unwavering commitment to ensuring the expert production of the book and his tireless work towards realising today’s event will never be forgotten. Thank you, Yemi.

Yemi’s efforts and those of his colleagues were amply complemented by the commitment of other young friends and colleagues, such as Mr Donald Duke, Mr Rotimi Amaechi, and Mr Francis Ogboro, who made several trips to Minna for consultations on this project. My gratitude to these and other friends who assisted is eternal.

I thank you all for your support.

I wish you all a safe return to your places of abode.

God bless you all.

God bless the Federal Republic of Nigeria.

Excerpt

I thought I should read an excerpt from the book which documents our efforts to deal with the challenging problems of the economy. I am reading from page 151.

 “When I assumed office, I was convinced that we needed to reform the economy urgently. My colleagues and I shared the conviction that the economy was in bad shape, but we were also confident that the nation possessed the resources and human capital to chart a new path of reform. Even before assuming office, I believed that we needed to reform the economy along free-market lines to free our people’s energies and begin to realise the full potential of our economic endowments.

Over the years, I have made extensive acquaintances with knowledgeable and experienced Nigerians in various fields. I reached out to as many renowned Nigerian thinkers and persons of knowledge as possible, especially in business, finance and economics. I naturally started my consultations with those I had met and had practical contact with over the years. In this regard, I reached out to Professor Gabriel Olusanya, whose intellect and experience impressed me greatly during my tenure at the National Institute for Policy and Strategic Studies (NIPSS). Through him, I expanded the group of reputable Nigerians to consult on how best to design an appropriate economic reform agenda.

In this regard, I contacted Professor Ojetunji Aboyade, Professor Ikenna Nzimiro, Mr Michael Omolayole, Professor Akin Mabogunje and Dr Chu Okongwu. We could rely on the technocratic expertise and vast bureaucratic experience of men like Olu Falae. Through Ike Nwachukwu, who had been the military governor of Imo State, I engaged and incorporated Dr Kalu Idika Kalu, who had done impressive work on the state’s economy.  Before that, he had worked at the World Bank and served on the Asia Desk, where he garnered extensive knowledge on what became the Asian Tigers. In particular, his creative approach to rescuing the economy of Imo State made a positive impression on me. Under the famed ‘Imo Formula,’ he excited me, and I brought him to the federal level to help us with the economics of spending only what you have. Such prudent management and economic realism was what, in my view, our desperate economic situation required.

What I found exciting about working with these outstanding intellectuals, men of ideas and experience, was that they were a community of ideas. They knew and respected each other. With each one you consulted and brought on board; he had a string of other colleagues with similar expertise to bring along. In little or no time, we had a virtual faculty of people with extensive ideas, vast experience and diverse backgrounds.

We interacted through a series of dialogues and consultations in very enlightening sessions. We became more like a community of friends and colleagues. But we were united by our shared commitment to making Nigeria self-sufficient and workable. We had endless brainstorming sessions on different aspects of national life, especially the economy.

I found our brainstorming sessions very enlightening and refreshing. People brought their vast experiences to bear on the problems that faced us then. In particular, I recall the insights of Professor Ikenna Nzimiro, who brought a lot of life to our sessions by relating our present problems to his experiences from the past. He would, for instance, jovially ask me how old I was when he was active in the Zikist movement!”

*(Above are excerpts from the speech delivered by former President Ibrahim Badamasi Babangida at the public presentation of his memoirs entitled “A Journey in Service: An Autobiography” at the Abuja Transcorp Hilton on Thursday, February 20, 2025.)

Former President Olusegun Obasanjo, a towering figure in Nigeria’s political history, has once again found himself at the center of a public controversy, this time with the Nigerian National Petroleum Corporation Limited (NNPCL). Following his recent criticism of Nigeria’s failed refinery management system, the NNPCL extended an invitation to him to tour the rehabilitated Port Harcourt and Warri refineries. However, this invitation, described as “disrespectful” by Obasanjo, raises important questions about how political appointees and workers in ministries, departments, and agencies (MDAs) treat former leaders.

The incident is not just a reflection of poor communication protocol; it underscores a worrying trend of diminishing respect for elder statesmen in Nigeria. Regardless of one’s stance on Obasanjo’s policies during his tenure, his contributions to the nation’s development and his role as a global statesman demand decorum and reverence from public officials.

Obasanjo’s record is replete with notable achievements that have shaped Nigeria’s political and economic landscape. As a military leader, he oversaw the transition to civilian rule in 1979, a rare feat in Africa’s history of military regimes. Returning as a civilian president in 1999, he championed debt relief, reformed the telecommunications sector, and laid the groundwork for democratic consolidation. These milestones are part of Nigeria’s collective heritage, and their architect deserves more than casual dismissal by state actors.

Beyond his achievements, Obasanjo’s age and status as a patriarch in Nigerian society should naturally command respect. At 87 years old, he embodies the wisdom and experience that younger generations of leaders can and should learn from. For public officials to engage with him dismissively, as seen in the NNPCL’s informal invitation through a spokesperson, is not only improper but also culturally insensitive.

This is not the first time Obasanjo has been treated with less regard than his status warrants. Over the years, there have been instances where his candid critiques of governance have been met with disdain rather than engagement.

For example, in 2021, when Obasanjo advised against excessive borrowing by the federal government, some officials dismissed his warnings as alarmist. Similarly, his advocacy for electoral reforms has often been brushed aside by those more interested in maintaining the status quo than in improving democratic practices. These instances reflect a troubling disregard for constructive criticism, even when it comes from someone with unmatched insights into Nigeria’s governance.

Against the foregoing backdrop, saying that the refinery invitation to Obasanjo was a height of insolence is not a misnomer in the eyes of anyone who understands the kind of protocol and respect a statesman in the caliber of Obasanjo deserves. So, his frustration is understandable. Rather than address the core issues he raised about the inefficiency and corruption plaguing Nigeria’s oil sector, the NNPCL chose to respond with what can only be described as a public relations stunt. Inviting him to tour facilities without a formal letter or acknowledgment of his statesmanship reeks of condescension. It is little wonder that he saw the gesture as an insult.

In fact, critics of Obasanjo may argue that respect is earned, not demanded. While this is true in principle, it is also worth noting that respect for elders is deeply ingrained in Nigerian culture. Even if some officials fail to recognize Obasanjo’s achievements, they should at least honor his age. In many cases, he is old enough to be their grandfather. That alone should command a basic level of courtesy.

It is also important to distinguish between engaging in healthy debate and outright disrespect. Obasanjo, like any public figure, is not above scrutiny. His policies and decisions are open to critique. However, critique should be grounded in facts and delivered with civility. Unfortunately, what we often see is a toxic mix of personal attacks and dismissive rhetoric that does nothing to advance public discourse.

The Yoruba socio-political group, Afenifere, and the Coalition of United Political Parties (CUPP) have rightly condemned the NNPCL’s approach to engaging with Obasanjo. Afenifere’s Secretary-General, Chief Sola Ebiseni, called the invitation an act of “sheer arrogance and disrespect,” emphasizing that Obasanjo’s critique of the government’s management of refineries is valid and timely. The CUPP went further, describing the invitation as a distraction from the NNPCL’s inability to deliver results despite billions spent on rehabilitation.

These reactions should serve as a wake-up call to public officials. Disrespecting elder statesmen not only undermines their individual dignity but also sends a dangerous signal to younger generations. If we cannot respect those who paved the way, what hope is there for fostering a culture of respect and accountability in governance?

To avoid future incidents of this nature, MDAs and political appointees must adopt clear protocols for engaging with former leaders. Formal invitations, respectful language, and acknowledgment of their contributions should be standard practice. This is not about inflating egos; it’s about maintaining the dignity of public office and upholding cultural values.

Moreover, public officials should recognize that constructive criticism from former leaders is an opportunity for growth, not an attack to be deflected. Obasanjo’s critiques of the oil sector, for instance, highlight systemic issues that require urgent attention. Dismissing these observations only perpetuates the inefficiencies he has called out.

Respect for former leaders like Obasanjo is not just a matter of courtesy; it is a reflection of our national values. By treating elder statesmen with the decorum they deserve, we affirm our commitment to civility, accountability, and progress. As the debate over Nigeria’s refineries continues, let us not lose sight of the bigger picture: a nation’s greatness is measured not just by its achievements but by how it treats those who have served it.

If Nigerian political appointees and workers in MDAs cannot recognize Obasanjo’s statesmanship, they should at least honor his age. Anything less is a disservice to the ideals of leadership and respect that we claim to uphold.

Lightchain AI, priced at $0.006 in its presale, is gaining attention for its AI-driven approach to blockchain scalability and efficiency.

If readers missed the chance to invest in Solana (SOL) when it was priced at just $1, now might be the perfect time to consider another rapidly growing blockchain project. 

Lightchain AI, priced at just $0.006 in its presale, has already raised over $16.8 million, and its potential for explosive growth is undeniable.

Solana’s success and what it means for Lightchain AI

Solana’s impressive rise was fueled by its ability to scale quickly, handle high transaction volumes, and offer a cheaper alternative to Ethereum’s expensive gas fees. Early investors in Solana saw incredible returns as its new chain setup allowed it to dominate the decentralized app (dApp) and decentralized finance (DeFi) spaces.

Lightchain AI, much like Solana, is designed to overcome scalability and speed challenges faced by many blockchain networks. By integrating artificial intelligence (AI), Lightchain AI enhances blockchain efficiency, speeds up transaction processing, and enables cross-chain interoperability, solutions the crypto ecosystem desperately needs as adoption grows.

Lightchain AI: The next big leap in blockchain solutions

Solana is known for its speed and low fees, but Lightchain AI takes blockchain technology a step further with its AI-driven approach.  Unlike Solana’s proof-of-history (PoH) mechanism, Lightchain AI integrates artificial intelligence into its consensus model to enable smarter decision-making, enhanced security, and automated optimizations. 

The architecture of Lightchain AI is designed to boost blockchain efficiency, providing cutting-edge features like sharding and Layer 2 solutions for high-speed, high-throughput AI tasks. With its AI-powered design, Lightchain AI is setting a new standard for innovation in the blockchain space.

Early investment opportunity

With Lightchain AI’s presale still underway, investors can purchase tokens at an incredibly low price of $0.006. As the project continues to build momentum and its ecosystem expands, the value of the token could experience exponential growth, similar to what Solana saw in its early days.

Just as early Solana investors saw their investments skyrocket as the network gained adoption, Lightchain AI presents a unique chance for investors to get in on the ground floor. If the project follows a similar trajectory, those who invest now could see significant returns as the project grows and its AI-driven blockchain solutions gain traction.

[Crypto News]