WEST AFRICA REVIEW ISSN: 1525-4488 Issue 11 (2007)

Reuben Abati

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When General Olusegun Obasanjo became Nigeria’s President in 1999, he was clearly the popular choice of Nigerians. There was no impression that he had been imposed on the people or that the electoral process was manipulated to favour him. Although there were die-hard conscientious objectors to his style and the promise of his Presidency in his own native Yoruba community, and the aggrieved candidate of the All Peoples Party (APP) had gone to court to challenge Obasanjo’s victory. When the Court of Appeal affirmed Obasanjo’s election in April 1999, the people were convinced that the courts had further endorsed the will of the majority of the Nigerian people.

Obasanjo’s emergence brought much hope and confidence about the future. Even the international community was pleased that at last Nigeria was on the path of recovery after about 13 years of internal dissolution, military brigandage and Nigeria’s isolation from the international community, which resulted in an image crisis for the country and its citizens. Immediately after his election, General Obasanjo had embarked on a 17-nation tour. Everywhere he went: Europe, the United States etc., he was warmly received by foreign leaders who wanted to know his plans for the Nigerian nation. This particular situation is to be compared to the current plight of the newly elected President Umaru Musa Yar’Adua who has been quietly rebuffed by the major powers of the world under similar circumstances.

In 1999, Nigeria needed to be rescued from itself. There had been talks and signs of implosion arising from the crisis generated by the abortion of the 1993 Presidential polls; the detention and death of Chief MKO Abiola, the undeclared winner of that election, the ethnic and sectarian divisions within the community, including threats of secession; the 1995 killing of Ken Saro Wiwa by the Abacha government, the protests in the Niger Delta, assault on oil installations, and the general collapse of social infrastructure, as well as the disappearance of faith in the Nigerian idea. Thirty-nine years after independence, Nigeria in spite of its potentials was a country in an induced state of somnolence. It was a failed state more or less, or to be charitable, an existing question mark. The people had been battered, their rights to dignity and the freedoms of expression and association had been taken away; the Abdulsalami Abubakar “interregnum” (1998 -1999) had brought some relief, but his was a transitional government with a severely limited mandate.

Obasanjo’s emergence served both political and psychological purposes. He was a candidate and a President who began his career on the strength of perception and relationships. With the death of MKO Abiola in detention, and the political robbery of 2003, it was most expedient to allow a Southerner and a Yoruba to emerge as President in order to redress the injustice that had been done. But it was not even the Yoruba interest that was most compelling: Obasanjo received more enthusiastic support from non-Yoruba, and so the larger interest was in the need to return to democratic rule, and a shift in the location of power from the North to the South.

Ahead of the 1999 polls, there had been much protest about prolonged Northern hegemony and its vicious, unproductive hold on power. Even those Yoruba who did not vote for Obasanjo soon came around to boast that he, Obasanjo would teach the rest of Nigeria that a Yoruba could manage power better. This constant attempt by the Yoruba to appropriate the gains of the struggle for democracy completely was a sore sub-text to the politics of that moment, but Obasanjo’s own insistence that he is not a tribal leader but an international leader, encouraged other Nigerians to embrace him, and even champion his cause to spite the ethnocentrism of a segment of the Yoruba nation which had supported the other Yoruba candidate in that Presidential election, Chief Olu Falae. “You can’t take being a Yoruba out of me,” Obasanjo said. “But I don’t want to be seen as a Yoruba leader. I think there are a number of people who can wear that cap. I see myself as a national leader, a continental leader, and international leader and by the grace of God, a world leader.”

Obasanjo had both charisma and history on his side. The majority believed that if anyone could save Nigeria, it would be Obasanjo at that point in time. He was experienced and he had spoken for so many years like a man of knowledge. A former Head of State, he was the first Nigerian military leader to hand over power willingly to civilians. This was in 1979. After leaving office, he reinvented himself by becoming a major international figure through such platforms as the Africa Leadership Forum, the Eminent Persons Group; Transparency International, the Organization of African Unity or the African Union, and national leadership initiatives through which he intervened in the governance process. Obasanjo spoke against injustice in the country; he became a respected voice of reason in the land, and a major ambassador on the international scene.

He was no longer President, but he had great stature indeed, and a rich relationship with both the local and foreign media which found him eminently quotable and well informed about issues. Obasanjo also had a common touch. In retirement, he took on a new life as a farmer of goats and chickens in Ota. His popular image in the media was that of a big man with a hoe around his shoulders, wearing his famous baggy shorts, and moustache, with chickens flocking around his feet. He was a member of both the local and National Farmers Association, and there were several amusing stories about his shrewdness and his closeness to his workers at the Ota farm. He was a personality in whose persona was combined a mix of seriousness and fun which excited the public. Those who voted for him must have felt genuinely that here was a man who understood the Nigerian mind, the mind of the ordinary man.

In a country where superstition and religion are strong existential factors, General Obasanjo was also seen a child of destiny, as a lucky man who had been chosen specially by God for a purpose. He had been jailed by the despot, Abacha, but while others died in custody (Yar’Adua, MKO Abiola, Ken Saro Wiwa etc), he Obasanjo managed to survive. During the Nigerian civil war, 1967 -70, he had also similarly survived. The second Southerner to be Nigeria’s military Head of State, he also survived the threat of coups and assassinations.

The religious and superstitious Nigerian was convinced that Obasanjo’s movement from prison to the palace of power had a certain divine significance. The few voices that disagreed were shouted down. Nigerians wanted a messiah and a liberator. Obasanjo in those early days looked like the Chosen One. Leadership is often helped along by public perception of possibilities. Obasanjo was one leader with whom everyone thought they had a relationship because they could that they knew him: pro-democracy activists were glad that a man who understood the issues had come to power, the oppressed populace felt that Obasanjo would understand their plight having tasted suffering and in 1999, the signs of suffering were boldly written on Gneeral Obasanjo’s visage, he was a tired-looking man who had been brutalised by Abacha’s agents, farmers looked forward to a new season for agriculture under his watch, entrepreneurs were optimistic that there will be incentives for growth; and prisoners were not left out: an insider from their perspective had come to power; certainly he will remember them.

Although Yoruba did not support him wholeheartedly, members of the ethnic group embarked on a loud body language about the shift of power to their political zone, and the Ngbatinization of Aso Villa. Nigerian abroad began to return home, to be part of a Nigerian renaissance. The image problem which the country had suffered gradually began to disappear. Nigerians could walk tall again. The international community lifted economic sanctions against the country, which had been imposed in the Abacha days.

General Obasanjo understood the significance of the moment, and he uttered words and made promises that matched the occasion. He promised to ensure stability and national growth. He enjoined foreign investors to take another look at the country because his government would provide an enabling environment for economic growth and national renewal. He promised that the dragon of poverty would be slaughtered. He lamented the fact that Nigeria’s potentials had been mismanaged by his successors. Returning to power after 20 years, he was sorry to find how bad things had become. But he raised our hopes: "If we have lost a generation, there is nothing better than for us to make up our minds that we will not miss a year as Nigeria marches forward."

He told Nigerians and many believed him that his mission was “to make Nigeria great.” and in this task, he was prepared to put every available hand to work: men and women, without discrimination. A Baptist, his humiliation by the Abacha government had made him more religious. He dragged the name of God into every plan and spoke endlessly about “work and prayer” and “faith in God.” He further promised: “I would serve all Nigerians irrespective of where they live, where they are located, or what their political affiliations are.” He added that Nigerian problems were man-made, but that under a new dispensation, the country will be transformed.

These were the kind of assurances that Nigerians needed. Used to a culture of laziness combined with ruthlessness at the highest levels of government, it was refreshing to have a new leader who spoke about a culture of hardwork that would be in the people’s interest. To show that he meant business, Obasanjo dismantled the military hierarchy and retired all military officers who had held political positions before 1999.He announced the introduction of due process as the guiding principle for governance and zero tolerance for corruption as a national emergency. He embarked on the retrieval of Nigeria’s stolen wealth from foreign nations and debt forgiveness for the nation by her creditors.

To address the fears of those who had been brutalised under the military, he set up the Truth and Reconciliation Commission led by the eminent jurist, Justice Charles Chukwudifu Oputa. Many Nigerians went to the Oputa panel to unburden their souls and weep on the shoulders of the nation. But General Obasanjo’s problems began the moment he made the transition, too early in the day, and too surprisingly, from statesman to politician.

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The early days of the Obasanjo government: Even when there were warning signals (1999 -2001), that there could well be a substantial difference between the fact of elections and actual governance, between campaign rostrum promises and the conduct of politicians in power, Nigerians were willing to give both democracy and the Obasanjo government a chance. By May 1999, the entire society had been overtaken by a “feel-good” factor, a democracy effect, prolonged post-election blues, and a sense of liberation from the shackles of military rule. For this, the people were willing to overlook whatever seemed like warning signals.

The democracy effect was far more overwhelming. For want of a better expression, it was if at that moment the Nigerian people had just been let out of a cage into an open field. Many of those who had been incarcerated by the Abacha military government and who had not yet been released by the General Abdulsalami Abubakar government were released from the prisons and detention centres. Managers of Abacha’s reign of terror, the once dreaded goons who organized all the assassinations and abuse of power were arrested and later charged to court.

Nigerians were excited seeing once powerful military figures like General Ishaya Bamaiyi, and the dreaded Colonel Hamza Al-Mustapha in the dock. Abacha’s son, Muhammad was also invited for questioning, taken into custody and later arraigned before a court of law to answer charges for his role in the theft of public funds and the reign of terror that was perpetrated by his father. The Abubakar government had started the process of looking for Nigeria’s stolen funds: General Obasanjo took on the task with renewed vigour. He spoke about exposing all corrupt elements in the country. Nigerians loved this suggestion of vengeance and punishment. The humiliation of those who had contributed to tyranny confronted the country with a moral affirmation about the ephemerality of power. It was something to which the ordinary Nigerian could relate.

For the first time in a long while also, Nigerians could actually enjoy the freedom of expression and association. Under General Abacha, and the military, conversations were held in muted tones. You were not sure who was an informant for government. The General Abdulsalami Abubakar government had brought some sanity, but Nigerians in relating with that government had chosen to be cautious. With the sure return to civilian rule, it became possible for the majority to begin to feel like human beings in their own country.

In its early days, the Obasanjo government helped to promote this feeling by embarking on the repeal of certain laws in the books which restricted press freedom under the military. And indeed for the first eighteen months, the Obasanjo government enjoyed what could be considered a good relationship with the media and civil society. Civil society lowered its guard during that early season. The foot-soldiers who had stayed long at the barricades, the men and women who fought for the return to democratic rule were optimistic that democracy will bring a different set of dividends to the people. There was a collective sense of ownership of the transformation that had descended on Nigerians.

Nigerians in diaspora began to return home, on holidays, or for much longer, to see things for themselves. Many of them had chosen to stay away from the country, out of fear and self-preservation. The more remarkable ones were the political exiles, those valiant men who had taken the famous NADECO route to avoid the risk of being beheaded by the military. General Obasanjo had capitalized on this rich human resource in diaspora. He travelled abroad to preach to whoever wanted to listen that Nigerians abroad should return home to be part of a renaissance. Some indeed heeded the call. They left whatever it was they were doing abroad, including resigning from their jobs to come and give back to their country, and be part of its re-making.

President Obasanjo and some of the Governors in the states, employed many of these returnees. Those who did not go into government dissolved into other sectors of the economy and society. These Nigerians were motivated not merely by the promises, but by the concrete assurances in those early days that there was indeed a genuine attempt to move Nigeria forward. Within the country, the return to democracy also served as a stabilizing factor. The various self-determination groups that had emerged under the military to defend their people’s interest and to provide a balance of terror against other ethnic groups also relaxed their aggression.

But by far the more persuasive initial evidence of the good faith of the new administration, and later a confirmation of its ambivalence was the setting up of the Human Rights Violation Investigation Panel or Oputa panel as it was known. The panel had the mandate to investigate cases of human rights abuses (1966 -1999) and make appropriate recommendations. The panel’s work eventually became a national soap opera. Aggrieved persons and their families went before the panel to plead their cases. Ethnic groups (Arewa Consultative Forum, Ohanaeze Ndigbo, etc.) professional associations, and just about anybody who had anything to complain about. The country was stupefied as revelations came forth about the extent of the damage that the Abacha government in particular did. A key figure of this season was Sgt Msheila Rogers, the self-confessed assassin in uniform whose job it was to eliminate whoever was considered an enemy of the Abacha government.

When names of certain persons who had been on the hit list were mentioned by Abacha’s agents and who miraculously escaped being killed, their families held thanksgiving services in churches and mosques! Those who were detained by the military gave sordid accounts of how they were brutalised and the extent to which the Nigerian state had been transformed into a machine of terror. Former adversaries met at the Oputa panel, and there were statements of apology and forgiveness, tears were shed, widows lamented how they and their children had been robbed of the opportunity to be happy. Ethnic groups alleged marginalization, the horrors of the civil war were recounted, the Ogoni stated their case about the murder of Ken Saro-Wiwa, the death of MKO Abiola, Dele Giwa etc was also reviewed. There were humorous moments too:

General Oladipo Diya, Abacha’s former No 2 and later adversary, appeared before the panel with his two wives who dressed gorgeously for the occasion, wearing the same aso ebi. It was a moment of catharsis for the nation, but the expected remedies and atonement were not realized. The Oputa panel soon ran into troubled waters. Former military President General Ibrahim Babangida spurned the invitation by the panel that he should appear before it; he went to court. Then, the Obasanjo government refused to release the report of the Oputa panel, after its work had been done. Eight years later, it is still silent on it. This was one of those early reality checks.

But there was cause for optimism in other areas. The Obasanjo government was determined to open up the Nigerian economy and it promised an aggressive economic reform programme which would bring prosperity to the Nigerian people. The idea of prosperity resonated with the long-suffering public. A National Economic Development and Empowerment Strategy was later defined; the key intervention areas included the privatization of government enterprises, the promise of a lean and efficient government, job creation, development of infrastructure, the building of institutional capacity etc. The privatization programme raised ideological questions, and there were debates about the limitations of neo-liberalism, but no one could fault the argument that the Nigerian government had proven to be a bad business manager, and that it was time for it to concentrate on the core task of leadership and governance.

The privatization process created a new momentum in the economy, and the entire reform programme, in the fullness of time, especially with the later developments in the extractive industry, and in banking/finance and telecommunications sectors translated into a re-definition of policies and processes. General Obasanjo embarked on foreign trips to mobilize support for this new orientation and to seek foreign direct investment, to be facilitated by the introduction of a more enabling investment framework.

When the Paris-based Financial Action Task Force (FATF) blacklisted Nigeria as a destination for investment capital on account of the alleged absence of guarantees for the integrity of investments in the country, the Federal Government came up with the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) with a wide-ranging mandate to inquire into all manner of economic crimes. The EFCC began its career by making a tremendous impact. President Obasanjo followed up the work of the commission by preaching zero-tolerance for corruption and by further strengthening the Independent Corrupt Practices Commission (ICPC) and the Code of Conduct Bureau. An office of Due Process was introduced in the Presidency to vet contract processes in government and to insist on laid down rules and regulations, and prevent abuses. In general, there was an awareness of the need for change and efforts in that direction to strengthen public institutions and to institute necessary checks and balances which had been set aside during military rule.

For the new government’s commitment to reform, General Obasanjo lobbied for and insisted on rewards and support from the international community: debt forgiveness, debt rescheduling, repatriation of stolen public funds which were being held in foreign banks, endorsement of the Nigerian process. Much progress was made in these respects, including the government’s promise, and determination to pay off all of Nigeria’s outstanding debts, and build up the country’s foreign reserves: two options that attracted strong criticisms. But these early moves were not met by clear and measurable transformation in the lives of the people in terms of access to social infrastructure, employment opportunities, and reduction in the rate of inflation.

By 2002, Nigerians were becoming impatient. They were beginning to ask for the specific deliverables of democracy. The government had been busy introducing policies, traveling abroad and talking about a big picture that the people could not see. The standard excuse offered by the Federal Government was that it would take a while before the people could measure the effect of the reform process but the people wanted their roads to be repaired, they wanted regular power supply which the government had promised but which it could not deliver, they wanted the hospitals to become proper hospitals not consulting clinics and mortuaries, they wanted the factories that had been shut down to return to work, so that jobs could be created. The government had introduced poverty alleviation programmes, but the effect of whatever alleviation that was going on could not be felt.

Matters were not helped by the non-performance of most of the state governments, the irresponsible conduct of the governments at the local council levels, and the observed crass opportunism and moral depravity of the professional political class. But even in spite of this growing impatience, the people had faith in the Obasanjo government at the centre. They were told that the contracts for the roads had been awarded, and that the power supply problem would soon be resolved. And education? The salaries of university teachers were soon increased and government boasted about how it had transformed the lives of academics. The people, the majority of them, believed the government.

In the midst of all this, the expansion of the country’s telecommunications sector through the introduction of GSM telephony made great impression on the people, and offered an idea of future possibilities. Previous governments: Babangida and Abacha administrations had attempted to liberalize the telecommunications sector but these were at best failed attempts. Access to telephony was an elite privilege in Nigeria, the country’s teledensity was one of the lowest in Africa. The government-owned telephone company, NITEL was a centre of corruption, where you had to wait for months and pay through the nose to be able to lay hands on a phone.

The few who could afford mobile phones were considered very big men; a phone was definitely a symbol of status. By opening up the telecomm sector, the Obasanjo government facilitated a new business which has now grown beyond initial projections, becoming one of the most vibrant sectors of the Nigerian economy. Today, Nigeria’s teledensity is arguably the highest in Africa. The GSM phenomenon has created a new culture; it has re-defined the language of commerce and social interaction and has thrown up depths of creativity among the people. Jobs have been created, new forms of social nuisance as well, but altogether a much-lauded achievement.

But what happened to the goodwill that the Obasanjo government enjoyed in its early years?

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In the first two parts of this on-going commentary on the Obasanjo years, I had raised two posers: I argued, for example, that “General Obasanjo’s problems began the moment he made the transition, too early in the day, and too surprisingly, from statesman to politician . . .” (Friday, May 18). I later asked: “But what happened to the goodwill that the Obasanjo government enjoyed in its early years?” (Sunday, May 20). I had proposed to explore these two affirmations further in pursuit of a detailed critique of the Obasanjo years, but something terrible has now happened in Ibadan, Oyo state, by way of distraction which deserves immediate and urgent attention.

Thematically, it presents a useful illustration of an aspect of the Obasanjo years: namely the wilful embrace of impunity by the ruling party, the triumph of thuggery and the flowering of misconduct under the banner of power and influence. This should be taken as an expression of the manner in which too much politics came to define the Obasanjo era. Indeed a key problem with this period is the emphasis on too much politics and the criminal discounting of values, manifest in form of the bloody conscience of the professional political class. General Obasanjo did little to check the spread of impunity.

If the political purposes considered useful to the PDP were served he looked the other way, if power was at stake and it would be helpful for him to assert his might as President, he encouraged even the violation of the rule of law. His tenure was therefore marked by the sad spectacle of government, deliberately breaking the law. Rogue elements in society felt encouraged, inspired even, and hence in parts of the country: Ibadan, Odi, Plateau, Warri, Osun, Anambra, they took the law into their hands. These rogues, if they were close to the centre and they were favourites of the President or the ruling party, simply did as they wished and no one called them to order afterwards.

The latest case study in this regard was recorded in Ibadan, Oyo state, two days ago, when thugs belonging to the anti-Ladoja, pro-Adedibu, pro-Akala wing of the Oyo state PDP attacked the premises of the Broadcasting Corporation of Oyo state (BCOS), and unleashed mayhem. There had been problems in Oyo state between the impeached and reinstated Governor Rashidi Ladoja and the Godfather of Oyo state politics, the amala-eating Lamidi Adedibu who is now in the same camp with Ladoja’s Deputy now Governor-elect Chief Adebayo Alao-Akala. This power tussle has since been taken over and amplified by a radically divided band of opportunistic Ibadan thugs. In the last elections, Alao-Akala, who has now been classified an enemy by Ladoja, not only won the PDP ticket, he eventually emerged as winner of the Governorship elections in Oyo state. Ladoja has not hidden the fact that he is unhappy about this, in fact his government had probed the few months that Akala spent as Governor. A white paper was issued indicting Alao-Akala for offences ranging from mismanagement of public funds to whatever.

In the April elections, Governor Rashidi Ladoja, still a member of the PDP had openly supported the candidate of the rival ANPP, Senator Isiaka Ajimobi who in the fullness of the process, lost to Alao-Akala, the Godfather’s candidate. But Ladoja who has now found the fighting side of his spirit so late in the day, was determined to continue the battle on other fronts and so as sitting Governor, he dissolved the local councils and fixed local council elections for Thursday, May 24. The Adedibu/Akala camp saw this as an attempt to set up a local council system for the incoming administration and to push Ladoja’s loyalists into the system since in any case, local council elections are conducted by the state Electoral Commission. It is not only in Oyo state that this has led to conflict between an out-going government and loyalists of the in-coming Governor, and there can be no doubt that Ladoja had an ulterior motive. This was also an invitation to crisis. Oyo state politics is dominated by the 70-something year old Adedibu who has repeated ad nauseam that only he is in a position to determine the present and future directions of Oyo state politics.

And so he dictates who wins elections, who gets appointed and how government should be run. He is a bold old man, who is used to having his way. Before the April elections, his agents reportedly issued a warning that whoever was planning to vote for any political party or candidate other than the PDP and its candidates should stay away from the polling stations or dare to be stubborn and end up in the cemetery. Adedibu’s will not only prevailed, he got his son, his daughter and his wife into elective positions. And he got Alao-Akala elected as Governor.

When Ladoja, the sitting Governor proposed to organise local council elections, before the hand-over date of May 29, he was warned to perish the thought. The Adedibu camp also warned the public not to test its patience. Their argument which was the official PDP position was further strengthened when the Chairman of the National Electoral Commission directed that no state government should contemplate holding council elections before May 29, because INEC’s voters register for the exercise was not yet ready. What register then did INEC use for the April elections? Two Governors: Joshua Dariye of Plateau and Rashidi Ladoja of Oyo state vowed to defy both INEC and local PDP forces.

Ladoja may be a politically damaged Governor but he still wields control over the organs of state. So, on Wednesday, May 23, officials of the state-owned Broadcasting station (BCOS), doing their job as obedient servants, started announcing to the public that “local government elections will be held tomorrow . . . ” These were journalists obeying the directives of the “owner” of the station, but they had stirred the hornets nest. The announcer was still on air when thugs acting according to The Nation, allegedly on “the orders of controversial politician Lamidi Adedibu stormed the station to stop further announcement of the local government election . . .” the thugs were armed with guns, machetes and other dangerous weapons. They pulled down doors, shot at anything that moved, the female announcer fled the set and lost her headgear as her feet gathered speed. Senior officials hid under tables or the staircase, cars were sprayed with bullets and damaged; then the thugs went to the transmitting station, and destroyed the transmitter. Earlier, thugs had also gone to the offices of the Oyo state Electoral Commission to destroy computers and other machines.

Governor Ladoja may have acted out of mischief by insisting on holding the local council elections, but he was perfectly within the bounds of the law. And does this justify the attack on BCOS and the offices of the State Electoral Commission and the madness that has now taken over Oyo state? At BCOS, 20 people were injured, five persons are on danger list in the hospital. Yesterday, in spite of this dress rehearsal at BCOS on Wednesday, the state government and OYSIEC still went ahead and organized the local council elections but they only managed to infuriate the Adedibu group more. PDP thugs took over the entire state, persons were abducted and taken to Adedibu’s house at Molete, effectively for the past eight years, the alternate Government House, persons were killed and maimed. In Ibadan, yesterday, the most expensive item in the city was a cutlass!

The attack on the Broadcasting station, BCOS, which is now off the air, is perhaps one of the worst cases of media repression in Nigerian history. What Adedibu’s thugs launched was a coup against the media and a demonstration of intolerance. Under the military, media houses were fire-bombed, journalists were detained, jailed or murdered, one journalist had his head forcibly shaven on the orders of an angry Governor. Many others had to run into exile, but no single attack on a media establishment was as dramatic as what occurred in Ibadan on Wednesday. When yesterday, the same set of thugs took over the entire city of Ibadan and engaged the state-government in a show-down, they were playing out a familiar script. Of course, the police men in all instances stood aside and allowed the Godfather’s thugs to have their way.

General Obasanjo did not create the Adedibu phenomenon, but under his watch in the last eight years, the likes of Adedibu and their agents were given every form of encouragement. The first major drama had occurred in Anambra in 2003 and 2004 when thugs working for a self-styled Godfather, the Eastern equivalent of Adedibu sacked the state and destroyed public property. Nothing came out of it, nobody was tried or punished, because the thugs and their sponsor enjoyed Presidential protection and encouragement. Even when the matter is in court as is currently the case in Oyo state, PDP thugs, old and young, do not feel compelled to respect the courts. They do not need to, because even the Federal Government routinely disobeys the courts of law.

President Obasanjo’s obsession with power and politics has resulted in the last eight years in the creation of mini-tyrants within the PDP and outside of it. The current PDP Chairman, Ahmadu Ali, who is getting some comeuppance with the recent demolition of his houses in Abuja, once overruled a court of law in the Anambra case. One PDP leader is known as “Mr-Fix-It.” At all levels of the party there is a royalist perception of power expressed in form of the conviction that the big man can do no wrong. For this power-besotted group, General Obasanjo is Chief Godfather, the father of all Godfathers. When the Adedibu nuisance in Ibadan politics became problematic, the public had expected the President to help clip Adedibu’s wings. But what did the President do? He had a public dance with Adedibu. He held his hands and told the whole world that Adedibu is the “garrison commander of Oyo state politics,” and that everyone should listen to him. With that high-level endorsement, Adedibu became more ungovernable. He had gone on television to say that he expected Ladoja to give him 15 per cent of the state security vote every month. He tells the people of Oyo state what he wants and he imposes his choice on every voter using thugs and violence.

The police have not been able to arrest Adedibu or his agents because their hands are tied too. Yesterday, heinous crime was committed in Oyo state; but no one may be tried for it. As General Obasanjo leaves office in four days, he will be leaving behind a country where impunity has become a preferred style, where thuggery, cheating and the abuse of politics are in vogue. In the last elections, those who snatched ballot papers and rigged elections openly, did so knowing quite well, that this is in conformity with the spirit of the times. In Oyo state, we are beginning to see just how dangerous such a legacy could be. Who knows what the PDP thugs will do next? Don’t be surprised if they smoke Ladoja out of Government House before Tuesday.

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Economic reform was perhaps the chief project of the Obasanjo government in eight years; through this programme encapsulated in the National Economic Empowerment and Development Strategy (NEEDS), the government hoped to introduce a new economic order that would be investment-friendly, result in the empowerment of the populace and drive efficiency. On paper, the government’s economic agenda looked impressive, when it was articulated by its promoters, it sounded truly convincing. Its major highlights included a review of macro-economic policies, sectoral reforms, privatization of public enterprises, increased non-oil sector growth, poverty reduction, and an all-out war against corruption and inefficiency. The strategy as defined in 2004, arrived late, but it covered the major policy directions of government, the details of which were fleshed out in the enabling guidelines for specific reforms.

Key interventions in the power, education, extractive industry and financial sectors were hailed as revolutionary. But there was one major problem. And this was the fact that the government’s economic reform agenda was not in any way pro-poor; instead it resulted in the empowerment of a minority to the disadvantage of the majority. If the people felt the reforms as an expression of a development process, they did so in terms of a devaluation of the quality of human life in the country. The promoters of the economic agenda spoke repeatedly about growth factors within the economy, but these factors did not translate into concrete social transformation. The Nigerian economic situation necessarily raised the question: what constitutes development? Is development to be measured in terms of abstract growth factors or in terms of social transformation?

The more the palace economists spoke about growth, the more the people cried out about the need for democracy to impact on their lives in real terms. There was a general perception that the Obasanjo government had set out to punish the people. When the General took over power in 1999, the pump price of petroleum was about N19, eight years later he had increased it to N65, under a policy of deregulation in the downstream sector which ended up creating new local billionaires and promoted the importation of petroleum products. While the emergent powerful petroleum marketer complained about the need to break even in order to ensure continuous availability of petroleum products and government insisted on the supremacy of market forces, the ordinary Nigerian complained about the hardship that he had to experience. By May 2007, inflation was galloping, the prices of consumer commodities had risen so high that they were beyond the reach of the common man. The country’s foreign reserve stood at $43 billion but poverty stalked the land. The government advertised favourable ratings by Standards and Poor’s and Fitch, as proof of progress that it was making, and Nigeria’s recognition by the Financial Action Task Force as a sign of progress, but what was more observable was the limitation of the neo-liberal economic framework and the error of assuming that there is one approach to the development process.

The general perception, and this is important, was that the Obasanjo government was being teleguided by the Bretton Woods institutions, rather than by local, national priorities. The government was seeking the cancellation of Nigeria’s debts, and perhaps it needed to impress the international community, but the general view was that it did this at the expense of the people. For example, the removal (or reduction) of subsidy in the downstream sector, as well as the education sector was seen as an IMF/World Bank inspired strategy. The consolidation in the financial sector has created mega banks and mega insurance companies, but for the banks, this has not translated into a deepening of the quality of financial intermediation. There are fewer banks, but this has had no impact on access to funds, or interest rates. What is happening is a jostling for hierarchy among the banks with a determination to further raise capital base. We have banks which can boast of a capital base in the region of N100 billion plus, but which are not enthusiastic about lending to micro-businesses or actual engagement in banking. Many of the emergent banks are at best conduits for capital flight.

I return to the point about the Bretton Woods institutions. The impression that I defined is further strengthened by the fact that the Federal Government’s special economic team (the so-called committee of seven or eight wise men/women) was composed of IMF/World Bank types or persons who took the positions of the Bretton Woods institutions as the last word on economic planning. IMF/World bank officials looked into every economic policy, and their approval was sought. Indeed, the World Bank not only paid the salaries of a few government officials in the economic team, (this became a major controversy), the World Bank was said to have recommended the appointment of Dr Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala, possibly Nigeria’s most influential Minister of Finance since independence. Ironically, loans from the Bretton Woods institutions were so marginal in Nigeria’s development aid architecture.

The economic policy that was defined at the centre was designed to be adopted and replicated at the state and local council levels. In line with this, the states, which were mostly governed by the ruling PDP, launched what was known as the State Economic Empowerment and Development Strategy (SEEDS), and at the local councils, the equivalent was the Local Economic Empowerment Development Strategy (LEEDS). Sadly, there was greater emphasis on the acronyms rather than the substance of the strategy. The way the development strategy worked out in the states and the local councils was as follows: the Governors and the Chairmen of councils dug a few boreholes, repaired some pot-hole ridden roads, donated drugs to some forgotten primary health care centres, set up a fund for widows or the handicapped, and they called this development strategy. They spent more money placing adverts in the media to draw public attention to these “achievements.” They provided in so doing a poor picture of Nigeria’s level of development. At these two levels of government, the local development process was seen largely as an opportunity to award contracts or to dispense political patronage.

But the bigger omission was the absence of a sense/feeling of ownership of the development strategy designed by the Federal Government. There was no early sharing of knowledge among the stakeholders, in government and in civil society, and hence, at all levels, the development strategy was compromised. The Nigerian case proves the point about the need for local initiatives, and the input of knowledge centres in the facilitation of a development and empowerment strategy.

General Obasanjo and the Federal Government are often blamed for many of the omissions in Nigeria’s development process in the last eight years. But the attack is a bit undeserved even if it is self-inflicted. The actual culprits were the state and local councils; these being the levels of government closest to the people were supposed to be centres of development and constructive productivity. But they were not. The Governors and local council Chairmen depended almost completely on revenues accruing from federal allocations. Rather than generate productive activities in their areas, they rushed to Abuja every month to collect their own share of oil revenue and rushed to Europe or the Caribbeans to salt away a stolen tranche of the money. Even when there was no money to be shared, many of the Governors spent more time in Abuja than in their states, it was fashionable to be seen in the corridors of the Presidential Villa!

Governance at the local council levels was worse: the general consensus was that money allocated to the local councils was meant to be shared. Most of the cases of corruption that were recorded in eight years were in the states and the local councils, with the more dramatic incidents being the arrest of Plateau’s Governor Joshua Dariye and Bayelsa’s Governor Diepreye Alamiyeseigha in the United Kingdom. However, in the instances in which there was actual performance at the other levels of government, the people were able to appreciate the value of democracy as a vehicle for delivering people-oriented governance. In comparison to the military era, there was a greater emphasis on performance in eight years of democracy, and the people could point to a government in which the key players were known faces and names within the community. There were gaps in many respects but the degree of alienation, compared to the military era was relatively lower.

Some comment on the unitary system of governance is necessary. General Obasanjo cannot be blamed for the poor performance in the states and local councils, but he ran a government in which the centre was far more powerful than the states or the regions. Unfortunately, become he came to power, General Obasanjo had articulated a vision of power in which the states and the regions would be the locus of the development process. As President, his style was that of a military dictator turning Nigeria’s democracy into a milito-civilian structure and this affected everything else. The Nigerian President was far more powerful than the American President.

The General ran a government in which he was the wisest man in the entire country. Nobody was expected to contradict him, and those who did were punished for their insubordination. Governors struggled to be in Baba’s good books. The President was called Baba: he was the father of everyone whose words could not be questioned since this is the dictate of age-old culture and tradition. This military style under which subordinates were required to “obey the last command” created much tension in the country, and it was in part responsible for the love-hate relationship that existed between the President and the Nigerian media. It was a style unfortunately that was copied by Obasanjo’s immediate lieutenants.

Most of the Ministers and Special Assistants/Advisers in that government were mini-tyrants; they saw every criticism of government policy as an act of affront, the more deluded and disoriented ones among them, with their arrogance helped to make more unnecessary enemies for government. It was also a style of governance that encouraged sycophancy. The point was often made that Ministers went to the Federal Cabinet meeting only to massage the President’s ego. When on one occasion all the Ministers in a show of solidarity with the President rose in unison against the Vice President Atiku Abubakar, who had become Obasanjo’s adversary, it was clear at last that we had a civilian dictatorship on our hands.

Others who dared to criticize the government in the general society were subjected to verbal attacks by Ministers and other government officials: a documentation of the public relations style of the Obasanjo government would reveal a consistent shortage of civility, and an obsession with abuse, with the police and the army whenever it was convenient, giving loud expression to this. Federal officials used such abusive words as "idiotic", "insane" "saboteur", etc freely, the soldiers and the policemen turned their guns on anyone who showed any form of independence. It was not accidental that the President bluntly refused to sign the Freedom of Information Bill into law, despite all pressures that he should do so: his refusal was of course self-serving.

On the question of human rights, the last eight years have necessarily been compared to the military era. There is no doubt about it: democracy broadened the scope for human rights but whenever its authority was challenged either by the media or aggrieved groups in civil society, the Obasanjo government never hesitated in wielding the big stick. Human Rights Watch (London/New York) has documented cases of human rights abuses and police brutality and citizenship crises during the Obasanjo years; the local media offered extensive reports of human rights violations in the Niger Delta and in such episodes as the mayhem in Odi and Zaki Biam. There was hardly any hesitation in using the state as a weapon and as an adversary at the expense of the public interest. It has also been said that the Obasanjo government helped to ensure national stability. This should be probed further; we may well have dealt in eight years with a case of phantom stability.

Whatever opportunities that existed for addressing this dilemma were squandered on the altar of too much politics. The biggest problem of the last eight years has been that of too much politics. Politics compromised governance and the development process. By politics, I refer to the local culture of politics. By 2002, President Obasanjo’s attention was already being distracted by too much politics. There was a battle for the soul of the PDP, the political platform that brought him to power. Obasanjo was not a professional politician: when he returned form prison and he was selected to lead the nation by a clique of vetoists, he had no political machinery of his own. He was lent an existing machinery, and he was brought to power. It was only a question of time before he fell out with those who facilitated his emergence, and this clique, including his own Vice President Atiku Abubakar began to remind him that he needed to fulfil the terms of an original agreement by spending only one term of four years in office.

The Vice President indeed boasted publicly that he made him President and that he could stop him from gaining the party’s nomination for the 2003 Presidential race. Atiku was referring to the PDM caucus of the PDP which then wielded the powers of life and death within the party. In 1999, President Obasanjo did not even win majority votes in his own ward in Abeokuta, and his own Yoruba kinsmen opposed him. He was now under pressure to prove that he was not a puppet President, but a President with political muscle and relevance. At this point, the problems of the Obasanjo years had begun.

(5)

Former President Olusegun Obasanjo returned to his home-town of Abeokuta, Ogun State around 4 p. m on May 29. He arrived at the Moshood Abiola Stadium, Kuto, at 4.16 p.m. He was driven round the stadium, waving to the crowd, accompanied by the re-elected Governor of Ogun State, Otunba Gbenga Daniel. An enthusiastic crowd stood in front of the open-roof police van, the people danced and hailed, they wanted to see their kinsman who had just completed a tour of duty as President of Nigeria for eight years.

It didn’t matter that the same man had just increased fuel prices and made life a bit more difficult for the average Nigerian. This is the fourth time in his lifetime that Obasanjo will return to this same town in such heroic fashion: in 1970 after the civil war, in 1979 after his tenure as military Head of State, in 1998 after he was released from Abacha’s prison and now in 2007. Nigerians are quick to forgive. They have put Obasanjo behind them, with the hope that tomorrow is truly another day, and that Obasanjo now belongs effectively to the past. A few more words about that past:

Getting the nomination of the Peoples Democratic Party for the Presidential race of 2003 was a test of strength for General Olusegun Obasanjo. The state Governors, many of who came into prominence as members of the PDM wing of the party had all queued up behind the Vice President Atiku Abubakar, whose strategists were already suggesting to the President what was termed “the Mandela option,” Nelson Mandela had spent only one term in office. President Obasanjo not only rejected this option, he announced that God had advised him to seek a second term of four years as Nigeria’s President. But he had to cross the hurdles within the party, and this included having to beg his own deputy to support him. Obasanjo won the nomination through a combination of arm-twisting, blackmail and outright supplication. But the battle line had been drawn between him and his Vice President.

The cracks began to show very early during the campaigns when the Vice President was for the most part sidelined, and what had been an Obasanjo-Atiku campaign suddenly became a strictly Obasanjo affair. This division within the Presidency soon affected special assistants on both sides whose relevance now depended on their demonstration of loyalty. President Obasanjo had only two major tasks ahead of him in the 2003 elections: to show that he had a political constituency of his own and that he did not need either the PDM or its agents. He needed to take over the control of the PDP, and marginalise the PDM stalwarts. In the 2003 elections, the PDP had to take the states in the South-West.

This game plan was helped by the Yoruba elite in the Afenifere, the Alliance for Democrac, and the Yoruba Council of Elders who had now been sold the dummy that “Obasanjo after all is our brother,” and that the West stood to benefit more if it embraced the politics of the centre. Only Asiwaju Bola Tinubu, the Governor of Lagos State stood alone, and this was perhaps why he alone among all the AD Governors in the South-West won re-election in 2003. There were flaws in the 2003 elections but nothing comparable to the debacle of 2007.

As soon as the newly re-elected Government settled down to a second term in office, President Obasanjo embarked on the urgent task of “putting Atiku in his place.” Between 1999 and 2003, the Vice President had been a powerful member of the Obasanjo government, he was in charge of the privatisation process and he had recommended many persons for appointment into key positions. He had also cultivated the image of a generous giver, and while the President was regarded as grumpy and stringy, he generally enjoyed good media publicity. Obasanjo wasted no time in reminding the public of where the buck stopped in the Presidency. Atiku was rendered redundant. Many of his aides who had tried to promote the “Mandela option” were fired, and banished from the Presidential Villa. Other persons whom he had recommended for appointment were relieved of their positions.

Many of these played smart by immediately crossing over to the Obasanjo camp. The EFCC, which had been focusing on the fight against corruption, was unleashed on state Governors who were known as the “Atiku boys.” and sadly, this marked the beginning of the use of this otherwise important institution for political purposes. To be seen in the company of the Vice President, or heard expressing any form of loyalty to him, became a mortal sin in the Obasanjo Presidency. Obasanjo not only accused his Vice President of disloyalt, when the man began to campaign for the 2007 Presidential race, he was asked to stop the noise-making and allow the government to focus on the task of governance. Atiku was later told pointedly that he will not be allowed to become President. This developed eventually into a bitter feud between Obasanjo and Atiku, and it did a lot of damage to the polity.

The government at the centre became totally distracted. Court rulings which could benefit anyone who was considered an Atiku ally, were openly ignored, and due process became a victim of this power game. Pro-Atiku Governors were impeached or threatened with impeachment; or forced to stay away from the Vice President. The details of some of the highlights of this crisis have been covered in previous commentaries but what the Obasanjo-Atiku rivalry demonstrated was simply how politics and personality clashes can stand in the way of governance. In many states of the Federation, Governors and their deputies also found it difficult to work together as the deputies were regarded as rivals and later treated as enemies. In almost every instance, the Governors used the powers of their office to either get the Deputy Governors impeached or disgraced.

In Lagos, Plateau, Oyo, Abia, Cross River, Akwa Ibom, we witnessed different dimensions of this lack of civility at the top. In the more dramatic cases, even the wives of the top men got involved in the squabbles. Political appointees naturally sided with the more powerful man, indicating that in Nigeria’s democracy, the man of power is absolutely powerful, and that principles do not count for much, opportunism is the lubricating oil of political relations. In every case, personal interests obstructed the common good.

There have been comments about Obasanjo’s personal style. In his best moments, he was a colourful leader with a common touch. He could dance with the masses at political rallies, stop by the roadside and buy roasted corn; remove his agbada in public and settle down to a physical combat if anyone challenged him (nobody dared). He had no aristocratic airs, and he spoke straight from the heart. He was a mythical personality in the people’s imagination, and they had so many sobriquets for him: OBJ, Baba, Baba Iyabo, Ebora Owu. His relationship with women was even a major topic of interest, and a source of curious admiration. He was generally regarded as an alpha male, in a society where a capacity for fun is admired, Obasanjo was seen as a “correct guy.”

But he had a character flaw. He took the people’s goodwill for granted and squandered the friendship that was at his disposal. He seemed to have developed a personal philosophy that the only way to show that you are a strong leader is to disregard the people, including your own friends. Many of the personal friends who started out with Obasanjo in 1999, quarreled with him along the way. He had remarked on one occasion that he did not need anybody, and that if anybody thought he did anything for him and was expecting rewards, such a person should perish the thought. This was not the real Obasanjo talking, it was power at work, and indeed, his leadership was characterised by too many contradictions. When he was re-elected in 2003, one of the early steps taken by his government was to increase the pump price of petroleum products. That was his way of showing gratitude to the Nigerian people for re-electing him.

On the eve of his departure, Obasanjo again increased fuel prices and the Value Added Tax (which adds no value). Now out of power, Obasanjo will need to go in search of lost friends. As President, he allowed himself to be hijacked by sycophants; he was told only what he wanted to hear and he placed too much store by the show of “loyalty.” When he assumed office in 1999, he lamented that Nigeria had been brought terribly low since 1979 when he left office as Head of State. In the next few weeks, he will need to reflect on his own stewardship (1999 - 2007), in the solitude of his own privacy, away from the fawning presence of sycophants. Let him take a look at Nigeria today and he doesn’t need to announce the result of that necessary journey of introspection.

The politics of tenure elongation or third term as it was known also created a moral crisis for his administration. It further damaged Obasanjo’s persona. The fact that the gambit was stopped by the Nigerian people who stood firm and insisted that the President must leave on the expiration of his tenure of office, created an additional burden which Obasanjo must bear even outside office. When he handed over to Umar Musa Yar’Adua on May 29, there was a sigh of relief across the land. Nigerians were glad to see him go. Up till the last minute, a cynical public continued to assume that the President could pull a joker out of his bag of tricks and change his mind. He is not in a position to say that he disproved the critics. It is the people who are now in a position to claim that it was their will that prevailed on the question of “third term.”

The 2007 elections also represented a major minus for the Obasanjo administration. The elections were rigged, but the President boasted that this was in order because we are Nigerians, and we do not have a tradition of doing anything perfectly. Making dishonesty and fraud a part of the Nigerian identity was a last minute act of self-deprecation by a President who came to power seeking to raise the quality of the Nigerian brand. When Umar Yar’Adua was sworn in as President three days ago, both the United Kingdom and the United States sent very junior officers. The Americans in fact sent an officer who was junior in rank to the country’s representative at a similar event recently in Mali and Mauritania! Most of the European countries were represented by their in-country ambassadors. That was a strong statement about the legitimacy crisis that now faces the Yar’Adua administration.

Notes and References

Citation Format:

Reuben Abati. “Olusegun’s Legacy” West Africa Review: Issue 11, 2007.

Copyright © 2007 Africa Resource Center, Inc.