Endorsements

“Olusegun Adeniyi has done us a world of service, in many respects far more
important than his work as spokesman for President Umaru Yar’Adua. Within
these pages, that service fairly screams at you in excruciating detail: our
government is so pathetically dysfunctional that, at bottom, institutions of
government matter little, only individuals do.

“This book does a great job taking us behind the scenes to see, for what they
really were, the cast of characters who were put in charge of our affairs. Their
petty rivalries, rank cowardice and sheer incompetency are painstakingly
revealed.

“A journey through this book, which in long stretches reads like a political
thriller, delivers the careful reader to a destination where one must confront our
true condition with sober senses. It is not a pretty picture. But the message is a
necessary one.”

–Dele Olojede Winner of the Pulitzer Prize for Journalism, 2005

Power, Politics

and Death

Power, Politics

and Death


A front-row account of Nigeria under the late President Umaru Musa Yar’Adua

Olusegun Adeniyi

Published in Nigeria in 2011 by Kachifo Limited Under its Prestige imprint

253 Herbert Macaulay Way

Yaba, Lagos, Nigeria

Tel: +234 1 7406741; 0807 736 4217

Email: prestige@kachifo.com www.kachifo.com

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © Olusegun Adeniyi 2011

The right of Olusegun Adeniyi to be identified as the author of this work has
been asserted by him in accordance with the copyright laws.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the National Library of
Nigeria.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted,

or stored in a retrieval system, in any form or by any means, without permission
in writing from the copyright holder.

The print version of this book is also available from Kachifo Limited.

Dedication
To my wife, Tosin, and our three lovely children, Toluwani, Ifeoluwa and
Oluwakorede (who in America became ‘Kody’).

Contents

Endorsements

Dedication
Preface
Foreword
Acknowledgements
Abbreviations
Introduction
Part I The Defining Issues
1 The Rule of Law, and That of Man 2 Corruption and the Ibori Saga 3 The Oily
Affairs

4 The Niger Delta Amnesty Deal 5 Banking Reform and Allied Matters 6
Between Mutallab and Boko Haram 7 When Counted Votes Don’t Count 8
Yar’Adua and the World 9 Unfulfilled Dreams

Part II Illness & Death 10 The Early Signals…

11The Journey to Saudi Arabia 12 The Power Struggle

13 Doctrine of Necessity 14 Like a Thief in the Night 15 Beginning of the End

16 The Days of the ‘Cabal’

17 The End

About the Author

About Prestige Publishing

Preface
“Segun, where are you?”

Before I could reply, there was a command: “Come straight to the Residence.”
Even though Colonel Mustapha Dennis Onoyiveta, aide de camp (ADC) to
President Umaru Musa Yar’Adua, and I were friends and often took liberties
with each other, the tone with which he spoke on that night of May 5, 2010, was
rather unusual. Curiously, I had just left the same Residence (the official home of
the president) where I was to keep an appointment with the First Lady, who, as
soon as I arrived, was called upstairs. By the time Mustapha’s call came, I was at
my apartment to dismiss the PHCN official I had earlier invited to rectify an
electrical fault. While I felt a bit irritated by the commanding tone in his voice, I
nonetheless heeded the colonel’s instruction and returned back to the Residence.

As I entered the Red Carpet (the first living room), a security man said the Chief
Security Officer (CSO) to the president had detailed him to ask me to sit down
and wait rather than go straight in. This was rather unusual, but then we were
going through an unusual period at the villa and in the country.

As a reporter during the military era in the ’90s and as a former editor of
THISDAY, one of Nigeria’s leading newspapers, I had been an intrepid witness
to the never-ending drama of my country in the last two decades. Yet, nothing in
my background prepared me for the experience of being the spokesman for a
president whom most Nigerians were not sure was still alive, yet sharing the
villa with an acting president who was in charge but could not exercise the full
power of his office.

As I reflected on this bizarre situation and the drama of the preceding weeks, I
saw the CSO open the door, peep into where I was sitting and then close the door
again. That just added to the suspense, but after about another two minutes, the
CSO opened the door again and this time beckoned me to come.

The moment I walked into the living room of the president, the CSO and the
ADC

gripped me, each holding me on either arm. My initial thought was that they
wanted to play a prank on me. However, as I attempted to shake myself free, the
ADC said, ‘Segun, please, please and please, we are about to tell you something
that will shock you, but you have to take it calmly because we are trying to
manage the situation. Oga passed away a few minutes ago, and we have
immediately alerted the acting president, who will soon be here. Right now,
nobody in this house except the First Lady is aware, so please take it like a man.’

I immediately broke down in tears, and I was practically dragged to a seat while
the duo continued their movements up and down the stairs. While waiting for the
arrival of Dr.

Goodluck Ebele Jonathan, I thought of Yar’Adua lying dead upstairs as I

reflected on what might have been and the events of the previous eleven weeks
since his return from Saudi Arabia. It took about an hour before Jonathan arrived
with a powerful team, which suggested he had called a meeting before coming.
With him were Mr. Dimeji Bankole, the House of Representatives Speaker; Mr.
Ike Ekweremadu, deputy Senate president; Alhaji Yayale Ahmed, secretary to
the government of the federation; Major General Aliyu Mohammed Gusau,
national security adviser; and Chief Mike Oghiadome, the principal secretary.

They all greeted the First Lady, offering their condolences. After a few minutes
of accepting their commiseration, she stood up from where she sat and beckoned
on Jonathan to escort her upstairs to see the remains of the president. There was
a slight hesitation by Jonathan. Then he paused and also asked Bankole to join
him as they climbed the staircase. The symbolism of Jonathan going to see the
remains of Yar’Adua was not lost on me. For weeks, I had pleaded several times
that they should allow him to see the president, but all my pleas fell on deaf ears.
Now he was going to see his dead body.

As I surveyed my surroundings, I reflected on the Yar’Adua years. At a time

when the nation needed a president who could take quick, strong, and decisive
action, his health problems ensured he could not be fully focused on his job. He
was, however, a delightful person to work with, and those who accused him of
parochialism based on the few Katsina friends he kept grossly misunderstood
him. For some inexplicable reason, in spite of his elite background, Yar’Adua’s
network was very limited until he became president.

It was said that as governor for eight years, he hardly ever ventured beyond
Katsina (his state), Kaduna and Abuja. Outside Nigeria, the only places he
visited were Brazil, China, Germany (for his medicals) and Saudi Arabia on
spiritual grounds. In fact, his first visit to the United States came in September
2007 when he attended the United Nations General Assembly. This limited
understanding of his environment must have contributed to some of the mistakes
he made with regard to critical appointments for which he depended mostly on
the judgement of other people. Those appointments contributed significantly to
the fiasco of his last days.

By the time Jonathan came back downstairs, his countenance had changed. He
was evidently shaken (as anybody would be in his situation), but I also realized
that power had changed hands. I had been with Jonathan only a few hours earlier
to drop my letter of resignation, and throughout our encounter, he cut the figure
of a frustrated man. Now, fate had conspired to resolve the logjam, and he was
going to be the president. After waiting for another ten minutes, during which
there were informal discussions about Yar’Adua’s burial (which had been slated
for the next morning) and his own swearing-in ceremony (which some of us
suggested should be immediate), Jonathan departed for Akinola Aguda House
with his entourage for a meeting on the next line of action.

As soon as they left, the ADC declared that when the family left in the morning,
there would be no coming back, which meant that they had to take away
whatever belonged to them. He brought in some soldiers, and I watched as the
personal effects of the president were removed while the team of local and
foreign medical personnel that had done everything to sustain his life worked
upstairs to dismantle all the medical equipments. I stayed around for about an
hour and commiserated with the First Lady before I headed back to my
apartment to break the news to my wife. For my family too, it was the end of a
chapter.

Yar’Adua’s death that night brought a dramatic end to the political saga in the
country. It also released me to make public my resignation and the fact that I was
going to Harvard University, where I have been for the last one year. While it is
difficult to write the entire story of the Yar’Adua administration—or any
administration for that matter—in one book, what I have tried to do here is to
look at a few of the major national issues that dominated the period he was
effectively in office. I also present a diary of events surrounding the health
challenges that ultimately cut short his life and presidency.


Olusegun Adeniyi

Cambridge, MA

United States

May 2, 2011

Foreword

Olusegun Adeniyi has done us a world of service, in many respects far more
important than his work as spokesman for President Umaru Yar’Adua. Within
these pages, that service fairly screams at you in excruciating detail: our
government is so pathetically dysfunctional that, at bottom, institutions of
government matter little, only individuals do.

Among the most extraordinary facts you will confront here, dear reader, is that
senior cabinet ministers or senior technocrats do not necessarily have any control
over their assigned portfolios. The lowliest functionary in the pecking order
could, entirely on the basis of his or her closeness to the president or his wife,
make decisions with a potentially seismic impact on the country.

The president’s military and security aides come across as far more powerful
than their normal official duties would seem to imply. The chief of staff may or
may not have the president’s ear. The top bureaucrat in our government, the
cabinet secretary, may or may not know what’s going. And so it went down the
line.

This book does a great job taking us behind the scenes to see, for what they
really were, the cast of characters who were put in charge of our affairs. Their
petty rivalries, rank cowardice and sheer incompetency are painstakingly
revealed. None comes across as more odious than Yar’Adua’s attorney general,
Michael Aondoakaa, a two-bit lawyer whose godfathers made him our country’s
chief law officer. Nothing spoke more eloquently of Yar’Adua’s weakness than
that he never got around to firing a man who was unquestionably the worst
attorney general Nigeria has ever had, though he had long concluded that the
man was unfit for office.

Mr. Adeniyi’s loyalty to Mr. Yar’Adua is genuine, and he treats the president
with affection and occasional exasperation at the paralysis that characterized his
illness-aborted presidency. But he does not shy away from offering a critique of
his boss, with restraint and empathy–but a fairly comprehensive critique
nonetheless. One could quibble with Mr. Adeniyi’s decision to pull punches
while discussing the all-powerful role of the president’s widely unpopular wife,
Turai, but it is entirely understandable. Mr. Adeniyi strives to do the right thing
while seeking to avoid coming across as disloyal. This central tension is palpable
throughout this narrative.

A journey through this book, which in long stretches reads like a political
thriller, delivers the careful reader to a destination where one must confront our
true condition with sober senses.

It is not a pretty picture. But the message is a necessary one.

Dele Olojede

Lagos, October 26, 2011

Acknowledgements
The story of how, for more than a month, I turned down the offer to be
spokesman to the late President Umaru Musa Yar’Adua is already well
documented. But looking back, I must thank my brother and boss, Mr Nduka
Obaigbena, for seeing what I couldn’t possibly see at the time: the opportunity to
play a small role in the affairs of my nation during what turned out to be a most
dramatic presidency.

But this book would have been difficult—if not impossible—to write without the
platform provided by the Weatherhead Center for International Affairs, Harvard
University where I spent one year with my family on a Fellows Programme. I
therefore owe a debt of gratitude to Center Director, Prof. Beth A. Simmons;
Program Director, Dr Kathleen Molony; her assistant, Jason Ri as well as Prof.
Jeff Frieden who, as our seminar coordinator, particularly gave time out to offer
me advice, even on this book.

I also want to thank my fellow Fellows for being such wonderful friends. I want
to single out for mention Col. Darvin Anderson (US Airforce); Col. Paul Bricker
(US Army); Navy Commander Sean Liedman; as well as Dr. Westina Matthews
Shatteen; Ambassador Walter Stechel and Mr Peter Brorsen. They were friends
indeed.

Thanks of a more personal nature also go to Prof. Jacob Olupona and his wife,
Dupe who became for my family a pillar of support. I am also grateful to Pastor
Tunde Olorunwunmi and all members of the Chapel of Resurrection, Redeemed
Christian Church of God, Cambridge, Massachusetts.

I acknowledge my brother and friend, Waziri Adio whose counsel at every stage
of writing this book (and throughout my tenure in office) was invaluable. I also
thank my ‘editor’ Laurence Ani of THISDAY who went through the initial rough
draft and made it more readable and Sunny Hughes who designed the cover of
this book. But the insight provided by Senate President David Mark; Mr Dele
Olojede, the first African Pulitzer Prize winner in journalism; Mr Sola Oyinlola,
Chairman for Africa at Schlumberger; current National Security Adviser, Lt
General Andrew Owoye Azazi and former Minister of State, Finance, Mr Remi
Babalola, helped to enrich the book and I am most grateful to them.
I must especially thank the people who made my Aso Rock Villa experience
worthwhile by not only watching over my back but also supporting me even at
most difficult periods.

There are several of them, but I want to single out former Secretary to the
Government of the Federation, Ahmed Yayale; former Head of Service, Mr.
Stephen Oronsaye and former Chief of Staff, Major General Abdullahi
Mohammed as well as my colleagues in the Akara-in-Council (comprising all
principal aides of the president who love eating bean cakes) of which I was
chairman: Ghali Umar; Habu Habib, Matt Aikhionbare, David Edevbie, Yusuf
Tilde, Mutspha Onoyiveta, Hamza Nadada, Inuwa Baba, Salisu Banye.

Then there are my former colleagues, Ima Niboro, Oronto Douglas, Jalal Arabi,
Moremi Soyinka-Onijala, Bolaji Adeniyi, Yakubu Musa, Ken Wiwa (junior),
Musa Aduwak, Justin Abuah as well as my secretary, Rosemary Ameachina and
my Personal Assistant, James Enabu.

I must also thank President Goodluck Jonathan, Vice President Namadi Sambo,
Governors Adams Oshiomhole (Edo), Chibuike Amaechi (Rivers), Babatunde
Fashola (Lagos), Isa Yuguda (Bauchi), Sule Lamido (Jigawa), Bukola Saraki
(Kwara) and Peter Obi (Anambra) as well as Dr Abba Sayid Ruma and Mr.
Tanimu Yakubu Kurfi for standing by me at a most difficult period. I also thank
Bishop David Abioye (Winners Chapel, Abuja).

To Eniola Bello, Kayode Komolafe, Simon Kolawole, Yusuph Olaniyonu,

Ijeoma Nwogwugwu and all the good people of THISDAY who shared my
frustrations, especially during the ‘cabal’ days, I say a big thank you.

My appreciation also to Chief C.O. Adebayo, Alhaji Aliko Dangote, Senator

Sanusi Dagash, Chief Ajibola Ogunsola, Pastor Chinedu Ezekwesili, Pastor Niyi
Ajibola, Pastor Femi Otegbade, Mr. Mohammed Bello Adoke (SAN), Mrs.
Maryam Uwais, Mallam Nasir el-Rufai, Dr. Aliyu Modibbo, Alhaji Adamu
Waziri, and Mr. Remi Makanjuola, who have over the years been of tremendous
assistance to my family.

I am indebted to my friends, Hon Emeka Ihedioha, Ola Awoniyi, Wale Banmore,

Sunday Dare, Reuben Abati and Ifeoma Ngozi Malo as well as Elombah Daniel
who assisted me in the research for this book. I can also not fail to mention
Omoyele Sowore of saharareporters, who made my job very difficult despite our
friendship. It is worth noting, however, that throughout my tenure in government
I enjoyed the goodwill of my colleagues in the media who were very supportive
even in the most difficult days. At that period also, the counsel of several senior
people in the profession was invaluable. Messrs.

Nduka Irabor, Sam Nda-Is-aiah, Al-Ganzali (real name protected), Segun

Babatope, Kabiru Yusuf, Eluem Emeka Izeze, Victor Ifijeh, Soji Omotunde and
Gbenga Adefaye stand out. It is pertinent to add, however, that I also had
moments of disagreement with some journalists but at all times, I never lost sight
of the fact that in a fledging democracy like ours where institutions remain very
weak, a fearless and effective watchdog is critical. That remained my guiding
philosophy.

I also appreciate my siblings, Adeoye, Olaniyi, Agboola and Bosede who have
always given me support and unconditional love.

Most of all I thank the Lord Jesus Christ who saw me through a most turbulent
period in my life and career.

Abbreviations

ACF Arewa Consultative Forum

ACN Action Congress of Nigeria

ADC Aide de camp

AFP Associated Free Press

AFRICOM United States Africa Command AGF Attorney General of the

Federation AIG Assistant Inspector General

AIT Africa Independent Television ALGON Association of Local Governments

of Nigeria ANPP All Nigerian Peoples Party APGA All Progressive Grand
Alliance ASUU Academic Staff Union of Universities AU African Union

BBC British Broadcasting Corporation BOT Board of Trustees

BPE Bureau of Public Enterprises CAN Christian Association of Nigeria CBN

Central Bank of Nigeria

CJN Chief Justice of Nigeria

CNN Cable News Network

CPP Chief Physician to the President CSO Chief Security Officer

EEG Eminent Elders Group

EFCC Economic and Financial Crimes Commission EU European Union

FBI Federal Bureau of Investigations FCT Federal Capital Territory

FEC Federal Executive Council

FELIS Federal Land Information System FIRS Federal Inland Revenue Service
GMD Group Managing Director

ICPC Independent Corrupt Practices and Other Related Offences Commission

IGP Inspector General of Police INEC Independent National Electoral
Commission ISO Irrevocable Standing Order JTF Joint Task Force

LCDA Local Council Development Area NAN News Agency of Nigeria

NBA Nigerian Bar Association

NBC National Broadcasting Commission NDDC Niger Delta Development

Commission NDPHC Niger Delta Power Holding Company NEC National
Economic Council

NEITI Nigerian Extractive Industries Transparency Initiative NEPZA Nigeria

Export Processing Zones Authority NIA National Intelligence Agency NIPP
National Independent Power Project NIPSS National Institute of Policy and
Strategic Studies NJC National Judicial Council NLC Nigerian Labour
Congress

NNPC Nigerian National Petroleum Corporation NSA National Security

Adviser

NSCIA Nigeria Supreme Council for Islamic Affairs NTA Nigerian Television
Authority NWC National Working Committee

OGIC Oil and Gas Implementation Committee OML Oil Mining Lease

OPEC Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries QC Queen’s Counsel

PDP People’s Democratic Party

PHCN Power Holding Company of Nigeria PLO Presidential Liaison Officer

PMS Petroleum Motor Spirit

PPPRA Petroleum Products Pricing Regulatory Agency PSC Police Service

Commission REC Resident Electoral Commissioner SADC South African
Development Community SAN Senior Advocate of Nigeria

SGF Secretary to the Government of the Federation SPDC Shell Petroleum

Development Company SSS State Security Service

TUC Trade Union Congress

VP Vice President

WABA West African Bar Association

Introduction
President Umaru Musa Yar’Adua spent ample time in his first eight weeks in
office receiving briefings from agencies and departments of the federal
government. One such session with the Nigeria Export Processing Zones
Authority (NEPZA) concluded with an anecdote that created some discomfiture
for those present. It spoke of an imaginary rowing competition between a
Nigerian team and its Malaysian counterpart.

According to the story by Mr. Sina Agboluaje, NEPZA managing director, each
team featured eight members who had to compete against each other after
months of training. The first competition was held, and the Malaysian rowing
team defeated the Nigerian rowing team by a margin of 10 kilometres. Following
the dismal performance, managers of the Nigerian rowing team contracted some
experts to analyze the problem and recommend appropriate solutions.

The analysis revealed that whereas the Malaysian rowing team had one captain
and seven rowers, the Nigerian rowing team had one rower and seven captains.
Ordinarily, the solution should have been obvious, but the managers of the
Nigerian rowing team hired a consulting firm to restructure the team. Their
recommendation was just as bizarre as the outcome of their finding: the eight-
man Nigerian team should comprise four captains, two supervisors, one manager
and one rower. Of course, the result at the next competition was predictable: the
Malaysian rowing team defeated the Nigerian rowing team, this time by a
margin of 20 kilometers!

There were some uncomfortable glances across the room, but the president got
the message of this anecdote about why things hardly work in Nigeria, because
he asked that the slides of the presentation be shown a second time. The message
became even more vivid a few weeks later when Eng. Hamman Tukur, chairman
of the Revenue Mobilization Allocation and Fiscal Commission, revealed that
the total national wage bill for political office holders at the three tiers of
government amounted to N1.3 trillion per annum, a sum more than twice the
nation’s capital vote for any given year. That revelation threw up an immediate
challenge: Can the president muster sufficient will and the capacity to produce a
winning formula for this hypothetical Nigerian rowing team?

Even while the election that brought him to power was flawed, a fact to which he
himself admitted, Yar’Adua enjoyed early goodwill as a result of his personal
disposition and the direction in which he decided to lead his administration.
First, he pledged that under his watch, governance would be anchored on the
principle of the rule of law. He also said he would be a servant leader.

To demonstrate his commitment to these ideals, he publicly declared his assets

even when the law didn’t require him to do so. This open display of
transparency, the first by any Nigerian leader, did not go unnoticed at a time
when the national mood had been fouled by his predecessor’s scuttled attempt to
seek a third term in office and by the fiasco of the April 2007 elections.

There had also been some controversial decisions taken at the twilight of the
Obasanjo administration that had engendered a feeling of despondency within
the polity. Some of these decisions included jacking up the pump prices of
petroleum products and selling vital national assets, like Kaduna and Port
Harcourt refineries. To compound the problem, university lecturers had been on
strike.

These were some of the immediate challenges before Yar’Adua in his first weeks
in office, and the deft manner with which he tackled them endeared him to many
Nigerians, who began to give him the benefit of the doubt, despite the way he
came to power. For instance, after what were no doubt difficult negotiations with
the Nigerian Labour Congress (NLC) and Trade Union Congress (TUC), which
had served a two-week ultimatum on the day the president assumed office, the
president revoked the sale of the federal government’s 51 percent stake in the
Port Harcourt and Kaduna refineries to Transcorp. He also reduced the price of
petrol from N75 to N70 per litre. Also, following his personal intervention, a
compromise was reached with the Academic Staff Union of Universities
(ASUU), which immediately called off the then on-going nationwide strike that
had kept university students at home for weeks before he assumed office.

On the political front, the first critical test came exactly two weeks into his
administration, when the Supreme Court, in a landmark ruling, restored Mr.
Peter Obi1 as governor of Anambra State and ordered Mr. Andy Uba (the elected
PDP candidate who had been sworn in as governor based on the April 2007
general elections), to vacate the Government House. This ruling was
immediately enforced, a situation that contrasted sharply with what would most
probably have happened under his predecessor.

Aside from enunciating the cardinal ideas behind his 7-point agenda, which
represented the key issues he said his administration would focus on, the
president also pledged to place a premium on planning so as not to travel the
familiar road of the past, where projects were started and later abandoned. To
give effect to this promise, he directed that on-going projects be completed
before starting new ones.

Coming at a period of restiveness in the Niger Delta, the president’s resolve to

dialogue with the militants and fashion a way out of the logjam appealed to
many stakeholders in the region, as did the fact that the vice president was an
Ijaw man. In one of his first actions in office, the president also inaugurated the
Oil and Gas Implementation Committee (OGIC), whose efforts eventually
culminated in the Petroleum Industry Bill (PIB) currently awaiting passage at the
National Assembly.

Because of his style, it was not long before many Nigerians started paying more
attention to Yar’Adua as he began to earn the legitimacy that was deemed not to
have been given at the polls. Virtually all the decisions taken early in the life of
the administration struck a chord with the public. In keeping with his pledge to
reform the electoral process, he inaugurated the Justice Mohammed Uwais
Committee with a sweeping mandate that took into account all the issues
militating against transparent elections in Nigeria. More plaudits would follow
when the president directed that the Lagos state local government funds, which
had been seized by his predecessor, be released.

Unfortunately, this initial momentum was lost when, with the composition of the
Federal Executive Council and the appointment of certain individuals to critical
positions, there was recourse to mixed messages on some important issues. For
instance, with time, the implementation of the war against corruption became
sometimes dysfunctional and at other times very diabolical. To compound the
problem, there was the health challenge that would just not go away. All these
became the defining issues that would dog the Yar’Adua administration to the
very end.

Perhaps because of the flaws in the electoral process which brought him to
power and the dramatic circumstances surrounding his exit, the narrative of the
Yar’Adua years has mostly been very superficial and devoid of any rigour. With
the opportunity to experience first-hand the politics and nuances of those
dizzying days, however, I can confirm that President Yar’Adua indeed came to
office desiring to redirect the course of the nation, and he had concrete ideas
with regard to what the direction should be. Having, however, also observed the
minutiae of the health problems, I had questions, even from those early days, as
to whether he had the physical capacity for the job, and that ultimately told.

That Yar’Adua came to office with impeccable pedigree is beyond any dispute.
His father, Mallam Musa Yar’Adua had been a member of the House of
Representatives in the First Republic and had also served at different times as
minister for establishment, Nigerianization and training and later minister for
Lagos affairs. A very influential member of the Tafawa Balewa administration,
the elder Yar’Adua held the title of Mutawallin Katsina, which made him a
member of the Katsina Emirate Council. His eldest son, Shehu, would later join
the army, from where he rose to attain the rank of a major general as well as to
become the chief of staff, Supreme Headquarters between 1976 and 1979 in the
military government of General Olusegun Obasanjo. It was this connection
between Shehu and Obasanjo that would eventually pave the way for his
younger brother, Umaru, to be anointed president in 2007.

Following the collapse of his Third Term ambition, Obasanjo had encouraged
many of the then second-term Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) governors into
the race for the party’s presidential nomination. In the case of Dr. Peter Odili of
Rivers State, he became a sort of adviser. At the end, apparently mindful of his
party’s position on zoning, Obasanjo settled for Yar’Adua by asking Odili, who
was a clear favourite to win, to withdraw from the contest. His plan to make
Odili running mate to Yar’Adua, however, collapsed in the face of strong
opposition from then Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC)
chairman, Mr. Nuhu Ribadu.

In his bid to stop Vice President Atiku Abubakar (who had taken the presidential
ticket of another party, the Action Congress) from succeeding him, Obasanjo had
unwittingly sown the seeds for the irregularities that would mar the entire
process, and with that, Yar’Adua’s eventual victory was very much tainted. For
almost two years after the election, he was in court battling the question of the
legitimacy of his presidency at a time when his health was also an issue. This
court battle and his failing health also provided ample opportunity for some
political wheeler-dealers of questionable integrity whose actions would later help
in no small measure to negatively affect the public perception of the
administration.

The enduring lesson of the Yar’Adua years is that there are always potential
landmines when a nation elects a leader who has to constantly worry about his
health, as Robert Robins and Jerrold Post reveal, with practical examples drawn
from several countries, in their book, When Illness Strikes the Leader: The
Dilemma of the Captive King.2 When such a leader comes with the additional
baggage of a discredited election, then not only will he be distracted, chances are
that he will also be vulnerable to all manner of people with vested interests
masquerading as do-gooders. That was very evident in Yar’Adua’s case, as he
was preoccupied with the issues of both political and personal survival right
from his first day in office.

This book is divided into two parts, with the first section dealing with a few of
the critical issues that dominated the Yar’Adua years in office; the second
captures the health challenges that ultimately cut short Yar’Adua’s life and
administration while detailing the choices I had to make at that most difficult
period in my life and that of the nation.

Endnotes

1 Following a complicated legal battle with attendant political drama, Obi was
declared by the Court of Appeal in 2006 as the legally elected governor of
Anambra State in the April 2003 elections.The then incumbent, Dr. Chris Ngige
of PDP, was ordered to vacate the office of governor. In 2007, following inability
to secure the APGA ticket for the April polls, Obi filed a suit in court that his
mandate was for four years and should therefore terminate in 2010. At the April
2011 polls in Anambra State, Dr. Andy Uba of PDP was declared winner, but
two weeks later, the supreme court ruled that Obi’s tenure should begin to count
from the day he took the oath of office in 2006, which in effect meant that his
mandate should end by 2010. Uba was therefore ordered to vacate the seat of
Anambra governor.

2 Jerrold M. Post is professor of psychiatry, political psychology, and

international affairs at George Washington University, while Robert S. Robins is
professor of political science and deputy provost at Tulane University.

Part I
The Defining Issues

The Rule of Law, and

That of Man

At his inauguration on May 29, 2007, President Yar’Adua stated that the
philosophy of his administration would be anchored on the principle of the rule
of law. It was a pledge he would reiterate 24 hours later, at his first official duty
while receiving the British Government Whip with responsibility for the Foreign
and Commonwealth Office, Baroness Jan Royall. In a remark meant to reassure
his guest as well as everyone of his total commitment to the rule of law,
Yar’Adua said, “I will assure the Chief Justice of the Federation that I will
support any moves for an independent and strong judiciary.” In his first few
weeks in office, Yar’Adua’s actions left no one in doubt that the rule of law was,
for him, an article of faith as well as his covenant with the Nigerian people. It
was also very clear to the people in government, especially in the
administration’s early days, that the president indeed subscribed to the time-
honoured view that society will flourish when it is governed according to law
rather than by the whims of office holders.

Of course, there was initial skepticism about its practicability in a country where
the flouting of court judgements by the executive appeared to be the norm and
not the exception and where the concept of the big man still evoked some
romantic notions. In the preceding administration, for instance, the attorney
general of the federation was more or less the ‘final arbiter’, interpreting court
judgements in the way and manner that suited the government and causing the
same to be enforced to the consternation of Nigerians. Yar’Adua’s pledge at
every opportunity was therefore implicitly a repudiation of that era and a firm
indication that he was not prepared to travel that route. At meetings with
officials, he made it a point of duty to always stress that if he ever gave a
directive that was considered a contravention of any extant laws, he should be
disobeyed.

The first major test of this conviction emerged on June 14, 2007, when the
Supreme Court restored Mr. Peter Obi as governor of Anambra State and
ordered Dr. Andy Uba, who had been sworn in as governor just two weeks
earlier to vacate the Government House. In a unanimous decision of the seven
justices, the apex court concluded that INEC

went ahead to conduct elections into the office of the governor of Anambra State
despite the fact that the matter was pending in court. The court therefore held
that “there being no dispute that Governor Obi took his oath of office on March
17, 2006, his tenure of office shall expire on March 17, 2010.”1

It is instructive to note that this judgement was not about whether or not Andy
Uba was validly elected; it was about whether there should have been any
election in Anambra State in the first place. “The office of the Governor of
Anambra State was not vacant as at the time of the elections, Andy Uba should
immediately vacate the office for Peter Obi to complete his term of office,” the
apex court ordered.

Citing the provision of Section 180 (2) of the 1999 Constitution, the Supreme
Court declared that a governor’s term of office begins to run from the day he
takes the oath of office. Section 180 (1) of the 1999 Constitution reads, “Subject
to the provisions of this Constitution, a person shall hold the office of Governor
of a State until – (2) Subject to the provisions of subsection (1) of this section,
the Governor shall vacate his office at the expiration of a period of four years
commencing from the date when – in the case of a person first elected as
Governor under this constitution – he took the oath of allegiance and oath of
office.”

Ordinarily, one would expect that the police and all the relevant authorities
would simply obey the court order without any prodding. But that was not the
case. In Abuja and in Awka, the Anambra State capital, all the officials
concerned were still waiting for either the ‘body language’ of the president or
perhaps even a clear directive for the ‘status quo to remain’, which was the usual
recourse in the past. In Awka particularly, the chief judge had apparently become
unavailable as Andy Uba’s legal team plotted how to render the Supreme Court
ruling ineffectual.

Less than thirty minutes after the ruling, my phone line barely had any moment
of inactivity as I received endless calls from journalists eager to know what the
position of the president was. The enquiries were not only from the media, there
were also calls from officials whose duty it was to enforce the ruling. I knew I
had to see the president, but before I went to his office I ensured I had the draft
of a press statement where he would order security agencies to enforce the order
to swear in Mr. Peter Obi as Anambra State governor.

When I got to his office, he was obviously unhappy that his party had lost the
state to Obi, an APGA candidate, so he seemed, quite naturally, a bit irritated by
my excitement.

But he also couldn’t understand why I had to make any statement before there
could be compliance with the judgement. I explained the scenario to him, that
people were waiting to see what action he would take. While I was with him, the
security man brought in a note that some leaders of the PDP were around to see
him. He wanted me to leave so he could receive them, but I pleaded with him to
read my statement so I could release it immediately. I wanted to avoid a situation
where the PDP big wigs would misadvise him into taking a wrong decision.
Reluctantly, he read and approved my statement, but not before cancelling the
sentence where he congratulated Obi on his victory. He said it would not be fair
to Uba.

The prompt enforcement of that ruling, which earned the president a huge
commendation across the country, would set the tone for more judicial activism.
A few weeks later, the president ordered the immediate release of the Lagos
State local governments’ funds amounting to 10.8 billion naira
(N10,829,527,300.43 precisely), which had been seized by the previous
administration, bringing to an end a long-drawn legal and political battle that had
pitched the federal government against the Lagos State government.

The controversy had started in April 2004 following the creation of 37 local
government areas by then governor of Lagos State, Bola Tinubu. Riled by what
he considered to be an impudent act, Obasanjo had directed that the funds of
local government councils in Lagos be withheld, to be released only on the
condition that the governor reverted to the original 20 local government councils
in the state. Following this directive, the state had filed a lawsuit against the
federal government at the Supreme Court, urging it to determine the propriety
and legality of the action. In the somewhat controversial ruling that had
followed, the Supreme Court had declared the 37 local council development
areas (LCDAs) created by Tinubu ‘inchoate and inoperable’, since the National
Assembly had not listed them in the constitution. The apex court, however, had
also ruled that the federal government had no right to withhold the funds of the
state.

With both the federal government and Lagos state claiming victory in what had
become a personality clash between Obasanjo and Tinubu (with the former
flexing presidential muscles), a stalemate was imminent. To stave off the
stalemate, some prominent Yoruba citizens had intervened through a committee
of elders led by Prince Bola Ajibola (SAN)2. That effort had culminated in the
LGAs being rechristened Local Council Development Authorities (LCDAs) by
Tinubu. This had brought a temporary truce between the duo and encouraged
Obasanjo to order the release of a first tranche of N10

billion from the entitlements of the 20 local government councils then estimated
at about N21 billion. This rapprochement, however, would not endure, because
the balance was withheld when the Lagos State government insisted on
conducting elections into the 37

LCDAs. This was the situation at the time Yar’Adua assumed office.

Following widespread consultation with legal experts, who held that the decision
to withhold the funds contravened the Supreme Court ruling on the matter, the
president ordered the accountant general of the federation to release the funds to
the Lagos State government. For a man whose ascendancy owed less to his
personal effort than to the sleight of hand wrought by his predecessor, Yar’Adua
was gradually becoming his own man. But given that one of the most
challenging features of the rule of law is that it has no place for the ‘strongman’,
there were also early signs that not many Nigerians appreciated the importance
of the foundation that Yar’Adua was trying to erect. This much became evident
during the controversy that swirled around former Speaker of the House of
Representatives, Mrs. Patricia Olubunmi Etteh.3

Guided by the notion that the rule of law also presupposes respect for the
independence of each arm of government under the doctrine of separation of
powers, the president had stayed out of the election of principal officers in the
National Assembly even when he could have picked whomever he wanted for
the offices. He would rather not make any input, he said, so it was Obasanjo, in
his capacity as the chairman of the PDP Board of Trustees, who worked out the
deal that saw to the emergence of David Mark as Senate president and Etteh as
House Speaker after his party had zoned the offices.

While Mark, an experienced administrator and retired army general, had no

problem rallying the Senate, not many in the House felt comfortable with the
choice of Etteh, given her limited educational background and exposure. Her
political naivety would become very evident when, in constituting the House
committees, she didn’t consider it expedient to take care of the interest of the
power brokers who brought her to office.

These same members, who would later become ‘The Integrity Group’,
eventually pulled the rug from under her feet.

Amid the crisis in the House, following allegations of corruption against Etteh
(on which the media feasted), there were calls on the president to intervene by
asking the Speaker to quit. I also met the president on the issue several times,
and his position remained the same: he would not intervene. One day, he gave
me a lecture I would never forget:

“Look, Segun, it is not always right to follow public opinion in matters like this.
I have read all the reports from the House; I have been briefed by many of the
members, and I have sought opinion from the security agencies, that woman has
committed no crime.

Those after her want her out for other reasons, and I will not join them in
hounding her out. If they have the number, let them go ahead and impeach her.”
While the PDP leadership was backing Etteh, the opposition had drawn the
support of the media, especially given that the allegation involved corruption.
Yet, the David Idoko Panel, set up to investigate the ‘contract scam’, did not
come up with any convincing evidence of corruption against the speaker.4 But
keeping Etteh in office was doing serious damage to the image of the
government, and I aligned with those who wanted her to go. Personally, I had
spoken with her, and I could see that even if she survived that crisis, there were
likely to be more because her attitude just did not seem right for managing such
a huge crowd of people, many of them with exceedingly large egos.

I hosted a few meetings at my residence that comprised ‘dissident’ members,

including Hon. Dimeji Bankole, who was then being propped for the office of
Speaker. All the meetings were brokered by my friend of over two decades, Hon.
Emeka Ihedioha, who would become the Chief Whip in the House after Etteh’s
exit.

Apparently due to the position the president had taken on the matter, all the
members from Katsina in the House threw their weight behind Etteh, and a
section of the media latched on to this to ridicule his commitment to
transparency. Their charge was indeed unsparing: the president was “giving tacit
support to corruption.” In the court of public opinion, Etteh was already guilty as
charged.

On one of the several rowdy sessions in the course of the battle to have her
removed, one of the president’s closest allies, Dr. Aminu Safana (PDP Katsina),
chairman of the Committee on Health, collapsed on the floor of the House while
bidding to prevent Etteh’s removal. He was rushed to the National Hospital,
Abuja, where he was pronounced dead. This tragedy became the game changer,
and I recall meeting Dr. Garba Matazu and other prominent House members
from Katsina on the need to withdraw their support for Etteh, not because she
stole any money, but rather because the crisis would not end until she vacated the
seat. Besides, I reasoned, the controversy was hurting the image of the president
and the administration. Other people also weighed in, and within days, Etteh and
her deputy were forced out.

It was only after the crisis had abated that many Nigerians came to appreciate the
fact that the president allowed the House to resolve the matter on their own
terms. This also reinforced the perception that Yar’Adua was ready to abide by
his words to run a transparent administration that would respect the rule of law.

Unfortunately, all that would change with the appointment of Mr. Michael Kaase
Aondoakaa as attorney general of the federation (AGF) and minister of justice, a
man who took a rather bizarre approach to the rule of law, an approach that was
clearly at variance with the president’s resolve.

Born on June 12, 1962, Aondoakaa graduated from the University of Maiduguri
with a law degree in 1985 and was called to bar in 1986. In 1993, he opened his
own firm, M. K.

Aondoakaa and Company. There were differing tales about his appointment as
AGF, but what was not in doubt is that it had to do with the nature of the election
that brought Yar’Adua to power, which he had conceded was deeply flawed.
Those who had recommended Aondoakaa had apparently known one or two
things about his capacity to get things done, especially with regard to election
matters.

While Yar’Adua openly proclaimed that his administration would be guided by

the rule of law, throughout his tenure, there was a gap between the rhetoric of the
president and the action of government, especially with regard to decisions
emanating from the office of the AGF, who is constitutionally recognized as the
chief law officer of the federation.

Yet Yar’Adua was too clever a man not to know what his AGF was doing, so the
only conclusion I could draw was that he approved some of Aondoakaa’s
actions. That was also the conclusion of most Nigerians.

There were other contentious issues also inherited by Yar’Adua that had to be
resolved early in the life of the administration. One such issue was the
deportation of the Vaswani Brothers, who had sent the president a petition,
which he subsequently forwarded to the AGF, the Ministry of Interior, EFCC
and Customs for their comments. While the Ministry of Interior insisted that
since the deportation was done on the orders of his predecessor it should not be
reviewed, EFCC said their investigations against the Vaswanis had not been
completed before their deportation was effected. The decision of the federal
government to deport them as at the time it did was therefore considered hasty, a
position that had been canvassed by Prince Bola Ajibola, former attorney general
of the federation and retired judge at the International Criminal Court in Hague.
Ajibola had written the president a letter on the issue. In the end, the president
kept faith with the rule of law by directing that the deportation be rescinded so
that the Vaswanis could be allowed a return to the country to answer to whatever
charges were brought against them by the relevant authorities.

In a similar vein, the president also resolved the dispute between the federal
government and Ibeto Cement Company, which had been shut down by the
Obasanjo government on grounds that were considered spurious.
But perhaps the most critical issue was the case of the contract awarded for the
construction of primary health care centres in the 774 local government areas in
the country. It was terminated after a meeting of the National Economic Council
(NEC) on December 9, 2007, on the grounds that the contract was
unconstitutional and the deduction of money from the accounts of the local
governments irregular. This generated innuendoes that the president was taking
actions to slight his predecessor.

A close look at the background to the cancellation revealed some unsavoury

details. A company by the name of Mathan Nigeria Limited had won the contract
to the tune of N37

billion for the construction of the primary health care centres in the 774 local
government areas of the country. On the strength of an approval by the Federal
Executive Council (FEC), money was being deducted from the account of each
local government at the end of every month with a commercial bank as
intermediary for the contractor and ALGON, the principal promoters of this
project. Against the backdrop of allegations by several of the local councils that
the project was being forced on them, the president directed the NEC, chaired by
the VP, with all the governors as members, to examine the matter. The governors
had been opposed to the plan for paying for the health centres, which they saw as
an encroachment on fiscal federalism, so it was easy for NEC to terminate the
project.

Flanked by the governor of Akwa Ibom, Chief Godswill Akpabio, and that of
Kebbi, Alhaji Saidu Dakingari, then CBN governor, Professor Chukwuma
Soludo, who briefed the media after the meeting, said the awards of the contracts
were irregular. The council, as a result, directed that for local government areas
where work had not commenced, the money deducted from their accounts and
being held at Bank PHB and the Central Bank should be returned to them. “The
National Economic Council agreed that the MoU

between ALGON and Mathan be terminated and that the outstanding balance in
the accounts of Bank PHB and the Central Bank that has been deducted already
be returned to the various local governments. Council also directed that there
should be reconciliation between the various local governments where the
projects have commenced, state governments should liaise with the local
governments to ascertain the level of work that has been done and what should
be deducted,” Soludo said.
Under what it termed ‘Cooperative Federalism’, the federal government had
acted as a guarantor for ALGON (a body not recognized by law) on behalf of the
774 local governments in a contract involving a single company. A flat rate of
N48,060,824.13 was then being deducted from the statutory allocation to each of
the local governments from the Federation Account in ten equal monthly
periods. What was being done was an arrangement called Irrevocable Standing
Order (ISO) by which the federal government that manages the federation
account on behalf of the three tiers, was making periodic deductions at source to
pay directly to the bank account of the contractor.

At a meeting earlier convened by the president following representation from the

Governors Forum to express their opposition to the deal, there were arguments
that under the 1999 Constitution as held by the Supreme Court in its 2004
decision on the suit filed by the Lagos State government against the federal
government, no other authority has any power to tamper with allocations due to
the states and local governments.

Incidentally, some people within the same government which approved the
contract also raised issues not only about its legality, but indeed in relation to its
feasibility. This much was evident in a report of the Inter-ministerial Committee
on the project headed by then minister of finance, Mrs. Nenadi Usman. Although
it commended the spirit behind the idea, the committee raised some fundamental
questions. For instance, the committee found it ironic that the governors were
left out in the entire scheme midwifed by ALGON officials and, also, curious
that for the 774 projects across the country, the contracts would be coordinated
by just one consultant! Surprisingly, opposition to the idea by then FCT minister,
Mallam Nasir el-Rufai, was well documented, as he wrote a letter to the Ministry
of Finance seeking a refund of the money deducted from the FCT

account for the project because, as he said, he was building his own health
centres.

Even though the grounds for terminating this contract were spelt out, there were
Nigerians who felt that since it was for health centres, the president should have
allowed it to pass. There were also people who felt that Yar’Adua was just out to
discredit his predecessor.

This was far from being the case, but one issue that would cause public
consternation, especially with the way it was handled, was that of naira re-
denomination. The story began during Obasanjo’s last week in office, when he
signed into law several bills targeted at institutional reforms. One of them, the
CBN Act 2007, was gazetted on June 1, 2007, three days after Yar’Adua
assumed office.

Following the constitution of the Federal Executive Council in July, Yar’Adua

directed the AGF to assess all the Acts of National Assembly, especially the ones
yet to be fully operational, and study them critically. While this was going on,
Soludo addressed the media on the decision by the CBN board to re-denominate
the naira, which he said was in line with the powers granted him by the CBN Act
2007.

The night before his media briefing, he had met with the president, but from
what I was told, there was not much debate about the issue since it was a
decision taken by the CBN

Board acting on its powers. The president had said he was not comfortable with
the decision but also felt he could not overrule the CBN board.

This contrasted with Soludo’s version. He said Yar’Adua expressed no

reservation in his meeting with him. It was an opportunity for Soludo to re-
emphasize the legality of his action when he briefed the Federal Executive
Council on the policy he had earlier announced. He made it clear that he was
merely informing Council members and not seeking any approval since he was
acting in line with the powers purportedly granted him and the apex bank board
by the CBN Act 2007.

The session was nearly ruined by an open disagreement between him and the
then national planning minister, Senator Sanusi Daggash, who queried the
wisdom of such a policy at a time when the government was still trying to find
its bearing. Many ministers also felt that their input should have been sought
before CBN’s decision, given that they would all be held accountable if it failed.

While the president’s concern was about the implications of the plan on the
economy—

he would in fact have preferred robust consultations with critical stakeholders

before the announcement—he had agreed with Soludo at the meeting on the
strength that the CBN
Act had granted Soludo and the board autonomy on monetary policy and on the
grounds that what he did was legal, even if politically incorrect. At the end of the
session, the president mandated the Economic Management Team, led by
finance minister, Dr.

Shamsudeen Usman, to meet with the CBN governor to discuss areas of concern.

The main issue in contention was that under the ‘Strategic Agenda for the Naira’

presented to the media, the CBN would abdicate its monetary responsibility by
ceding such authority to states and local governments, while the CBN had also,
without consultations, set a commencement date of August 1, 2008, for the re-
denomination exercise. Government was also concerned that the CBN
apparently had not given due consideration to the huge cost implications of the
project, whose economic value was doubtful, at a time when there were more
urgent demands on the resources available to the nation.

As it would happen, just two days after the FEC meeting, the AGF discovered
that the CBN Act 2007 does not in fact grant Soludo the powers he claimed with
respect to currency denomination. Section 19 of the act clearly states that the
currency notes and coins issued by the central bank shall be “in such
denominations of the Naira or fractions thereof as shall be approved by the
President on recommendation of the Board; and of such forms and designs and
bear such devices as shall be approved by the President on the recommendation
of the Board.” The section went further to state that even “the standard weights
and composition of coins issued by the Bank and the amount of remedy and
variation shall be determined by the President on the recommendation of the
Board.” What these provisions mean is that only the president could give
approval for naira re-denomination if he was satisfied about its desirability or
necessity. Given his disposition to the idea, it was predictable that he would stop
it. In a statement I issued to explain government position on the exercise, I said
that in the prevailing circumstances, “the president is not convinced of the merits
of the naira re-denomination plan put forward by the CBN without appropriate
regard for the present administration’s insistence on due process and the rule of
law.”

This action drew significant flak, especially when CBN had gleefully announced
that the agenda would bring up the value of the naira to parity with the dollar,
which appealed to public sentiment, even though Soludo had also told the FEC
that there was no guarantee that the agenda could not end up a failure. But at that
point, the real issue for the president was that a strict adherence to the rule of law
left no exemptions or leeway for the arbitrary exercise of power by CBN. That
position would come under strict scrutiny in the prosecution of the fight against
corruption.

Endnotes

1 A unanimous decision given by a seven-man panel of justices presided over by

Justice Iyorgher Katsina-Alu held that the tenure of Dr. Peter Obi on the
platform of the All Progressive Grand Alliance (APGA) was not yet over.

2 Prince Bola Ajibola was Attorney General of the Federation and Justice
Minister under the military regime of General Ibrahim Babangida. Before then,
he had been president of the Nigerian Bar Association. He was later to become a
member of the Permanent Court of Arbitration (The Hague).

3 Four months after she became speaker, Mrs. Etteh and her deputy, Babangida
Nguroje, were accused of authorizing the spending of N628 million for the
renovation of their official residences and the purchase of 12 official cars. This
led to a crisis, as her accusers insisted that she had to go. About eight weeks after
the allegations were made public, Etteh and her deputy resigned from office on
October 30, 2007, although they have remained members of the House.

4 Hon. David Idoko, chairman of the committee that probed the allegation, came
with the findings that the tender was not advertised, no in-house bill of quantities
and drawings were prepared, there was no specific budgetary provision for
renovation and furnishing of the Speaker’s and her deputy’s official quarters in
the 2007 budget, and that the procedure for the contract award by the Body of
Principal Officers on July 12, 2007,

“shows major acts of omission and disregard for laid down procedure.” 2

Corruption and the Ibori Saga

Buoyed by the unprecedented decision to declare his assets in public, Yar’Adua
came to office with a reputation of personal integrity. But within only a matter of
weeks, that image, which had swirled around him like a halo, would be tainted
by the perception that he was leading a government that was protecting the
corrupt. Unfortunately, the president did not appear to see what most Nigerians,
and indeed several of us within the administration, could see very clearly: that
the seeming connivance between his attorney general and justice minister, Mr.
Michael Kaase Aondoakaa, and the former Delta State governor, Chief James
Ibori, was destroying the reputation of the government and also compromising
his own personal integrity.

The curtains on this sordid drama did not drop, however, until the very end, so
it’s not expected that the image it fostered would be salutary. Both the United
States government and the government of the United Kingdom viewed the
Yar’Adua administration through negative lens, essentially on account of its
apparently indulgent treatment of Ibori.

While we may never know how other foreign governments perceived the
Yar’Adua administration in relation to its tolerance for corruption, we didn’t
really need Wikileaks to ascertain the position of the United States, to which the
Ribadu/Ibori saga became a yardstick for measuring the president’s much
vaunted commitment to transparency and accountability. The United States’
view was brought home to the president very clearly in August 2008, when the
foreign affairs minister, Chief Ojo Maduekwe, recounted for him an encounter
between the deputy chief of mission at the Nigerian embassy in Washington,
Ambassador B. G. Wakil and the United States’ deputy assistant secretary of
state, Mr. Todd Moss.

Wakil, who said he was summoned to the US State Department by Moss, had
prepared a detailed report of what transpired at the meeting which, according to
him, “turned out to be a reading of a riot act from the US to Nigeria, centred on
what the US has called an unfair treatment of former EFCC Chairman, Mr Nuhu
Ribadu.” According to Wakil, Moss expressed the displeasure of the US
government at what he described as an obvious witch hunt targeted against
Ribadu. “While the US policy recognizes institutions rather than individuals
therein, the pattern of the recent treatment of Ribadu leaves much to be desired
and, in spite of the camouflaged technical explanations, smacks of political
vendetta against the former chairman,” Moss was quoted to have said.
Moss, according to Wakil, claimed that Yar’Adua had, in a previous meeting
with President George Bush, given assurances that Ribadu would be restored to
his position and that members of his team would also not be affected by any
reforms. He said the US

was therefore seriously disappointed that not only had Ribadu been demoted, but
his working team had been virtually dismantled. This, Moss said, had rendered
all the earlier financial and capacity-building investments the US had made in
EFCC completely meaningless.

Moss told Wakil that the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI), the Department
of Justice and other specialized agencies of the US government had trained,
equipped and motivated the EFCC, but noted that the action of the Nigerian
government had virtually nullified all these US strategies conceived to
strengthen the institution. Wakil explained that the session rounded off with a
veiled threat from Moss, who instructed him (Wakil) to inform his home
government that if Ribadu was arrested, or if there was any evidence of
retaliation, vengeance or any form of vindictive action against him from former
victims of his anti-corruption activities whilst in office, the US would regard
such as “a deliberate attempt to victimize and crucify Ribadu for his successful
anti-corruption war while in office” and would react with measures it deemed
appropriate. Moss hinted at several options open to the US, some of which were
to

• review bilateral engagement with Nigeria in other strategic areas of

cooperation such as the Niger Delta, poverty eradication and contributions to the
success of the seven-point agenda;

• consult with European allies on further multilateral action against Nigeria;

• resuscitate, in consultation with the Justice Department, the process of denying

or revoking visas to certain categories of Nigerian government officials; and

• withhold any official engagements with the incumbent Chairman of EFCC,

Mrs.

Waziri, until her personal sincerity and the competence of the EFCC under her
were proved.

Wakil recalled that the US had made similar representations to voice displeasure
over the government’s decision to send Ribadu to NIPSS, and explained that his
attempts to offer clarifications on the issue of Ribadu as a career, non-political
appointee and the circumstances governing such deployments in Nigeria were
brushed aside by Moss. It was very clear that the US government had drawn its
own conclusions about events in Nigeria.

Maduekwe’s presentation had disturbed the president, who was equally peeved
by the tone of the US intervention on the matter and, quite naturally, believed it
was part of the handiwork of Ribadu, given the perception that he was bent on
tarnishing the image of his administration. This was the dummy sold consistently
by Aondoakaa, who attributed anything negative about the administration both
in the local and international media to Ribadu.

There were also security reports about Ribadu, whose value, though doubtful,
the president considered credible, perhaps on the strength of just one ‘evidence’
found on a computer of a Ribadu acolyte within EFCC that contained several
articles obviously meant for publication with such titles as ‘How Turai is ruling
Nigeria’, ‘Yar’Adua surrenders Nigeria to his wife’, and so on.

Nonetheless, the message from the United States was clear to the president: they
perceived his administration as one shielding the corrupt, even though it was all
due to the antics of the AGF who, for all practical purposes, had become no
more than a personal attorney to the former Delta State governor. Maduekwe
knew he had a job on his hands and hence sought appointment with the US
Secretary of State, Mrs. Hillary Clinton, to explain the Nigerian position.

Even though Maduekwe was himself a Ribadu sympathizer who was unhappy
about the travails of the former EFCC chairman, he felt that Nigeria was not
being treated fairly by the State Department. This was the basis of his
intervention in Washington, and it eventually proved beneficial, because it
stalled the attempt to make public a diplomatic démarche on the Nigerian
situation. The statement, which would have been very damaging had it been
released, reads:

The United States Government [USG] is strongly concerned for the

independence and integrity of the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission
(EFCC) in terms of perception and of the institution’s continued credible
performance.

The United States is concerned that the momentum behind the EFCC’s robust
investigation and prosecution of high profile cases involving corruption and
fraud issues has been curbed significantly this year. Other than one recent arrest,
we have not seen any progress on EFCC prosecutions of over a dozen former
governors and senior officials, some of whom seem to retain sizeable
Government of Nigeria influence.

Consequently, we believe these trends jeopardize not only President Yar’Adua’s

Seven-point agenda for reform but also lead to questions regarding the
credibility of the Government of Nigeria itself. The most recent massive
redeployments of EFCC staff have left a shell of inexperienced replacements at
best in most areas, wasting considerable United States Government and
international training, threatening the EFCC’s institutional integrity, jeopardizing
cooperation efforts. Additionally, with the EFCC leadership having been
completely reassigned, it will take considerable time to build new relationships
and trust with the new EFCC leadership.

Given this situation, the United States is reviewing all of its interactions and
assistance with the EFCC. We are therefore extremely reluctant to consider
additional requests for resources or training until the EFCC can demonstrate
genuine effort or high-profile prosecutions (including prominent ex-governors),
extraditions and the establishment of criminal procedures through credible
timelines and benchmarks. Similarly, we do not believe high-level meetings
between EFCC leadership and USG officials will be constructive until it is clear
that the EFCC is moving in a positive direction and taking deliberate actions
critical to rebuilding the EFCC’s reputation.

The USG and its allies are watching the situation closely, and as appropriate will
consider measures to underscore the seriousness with which we view recent
events. This might include revoking visas of, or imposing travel bans on, corrupt
Nigerian officials, including those from the Niger Delta as legally available.

Despite the temporary truce struck by both governments, the administration’s

handling of the Ibori matter would become a sore issue throughout Yar’Adua’s
tenure, as it became the yardstick for measuring Nigeria’s commitment to the
fight against corruption.

At home too, the president was viewed negatively because of his relationship
with Ibori, whose activities created the impression that he was above the law. We
may never know if there was indeed any deal between the duo, but I suspected
that the president must have made some commitment to the former Delta State
governor that he would protect him. I recall the day Ibori came to my office to
warn me, he said something very instructive:

“Look, Segun, there is nowhere in the world where you help somebody to power
and his reward for you is that you go to jail. It doesn’t happen anywhere, and it
won’t begin with me.”

Given that Obasanjo practically made Yar’Adua president of Nigeria—from

foisting him on the party to running the campaign almost all by himself—I still
cannot put my finger on exactly what role Ibori played in Yar’Adua’s ascension
to power, but he must have done something for him to have enjoyed the access
he had. Nevertheless, given the albatross that the former Delta State governor
had become to the administration’s image, some other leader would have been a
little bit ruthless in handling whatever deal might have been struck, even if it
meant his friend had to pay some price for his infraction.

After all, the president still had the power of prerogative of mercy which could
have been invoked—but only after justice had been served in the court of law.

The whole saga began one week after Aondoakaa assumed office as AGF,
whereupon he wrote a memo to remind the president of the relevant sections of
the constitution and Section 43 of the EFCC Act 2004, which he argued
empowered him to regulate the operations of the EFCC. He requested that all
agencies involved in criminal prosecution should be made to report and initiate
proceedings only with his consent and approval as the attorney general of the
federation. He said his request was impelled by the need to ensure better
coordination among the country’s law enforcement agencies and avoid situations
where multiple criminal prosecutions were undertaken by the EFCC, ICPC and
the Code of Conduct Tribunal in respect of the same alleged offences.

However, the memo was already in the media even before the president had seen
it. The leak was attributed to Ribadu, who had indeed called to intimate me of a
telephone call to him by Ibori, who bragged that he would soon humble him
(Ribadu). He also claimed that Ibori was working hand-in-glove with the AGF;
this was not a charge I could take lightly. When I met the president on the issue,
he dismissed the allegations. He said he had read the media report in question
and showed me the memo from the AGF, which he had yet to treat. “If your
friend (meaning Ribadu) thinks he can intimidate me, he must be joking,” he
said, his tone a mix of anger and jest. But I got the message.

The president told me that he wanted a professional EFCC that would do its job
diligently without pandering to the media or the civil society. He believed
Ribadu was too political and that his actions helped ruin the 2007 general
elections. He argued that only a court of law could pronounce anybody as
corrupt, noting that the EFCC chairman’s actions were antithetical to the rule of
law. To buttress his position, he said he had received several petitions from the
judiciary of several court orders that were flouted by Ribadu. I had already told
him Ribadu and I were very close, so we both knew where we stood on the issue,
though he made me understand that he had nothing personal against the EFCC

chairman but that he simply deplored his methods. He would later tell me other
things that ultimately convinced me that he actually had personal scores to settle
with Ribadu.

Yet, I could see the point in some of the issues raised with regard to the EFCC’s
methods.

Even though only a few days in office, the AGF had made no pretensions about
the fact that he wanted to curtail the EFCC’s powers to prosecute. But many of
his colleagues in the bar thought his position was not tenable and that he was
acting above his powers.

Since the EFCC had presented this memo as targeted at the commission, it was a
battle Aondoakaa could not, conceivably, win. With many lawyers wading into
the controversy, the president requested a copy of a Supreme Court ruling said to
have addressed the issue. The State House counsel, Jalal Arabi, a brilliant lawyer
with unquestionable integrity, had informed the president that whereas the AGF
indeed had powers of oversight over EFCC, ICPC and other such bodies, he did
not have exclusive powers to initiate prosecution. It was the Supreme Court
ruling Jalal cited that the president wanted to see.
When the president realized he had indeed taken the wrong decision on the issue,
he invited Ribadu; ICPC Chairman, Justice Emmanuel Ayoola; Honourary
Adviser on Legal Matters, Dr. Wale Babalakin and Arabi for a meeting, where
he rescinded the decision.

He also told Ribadu and others that they could initiate criminal proceedings
without recourse to the office of the AGF. That was the first reversal of policy in
what the media would later describe as a ‘flip-flop’, but it was the right thing for
the president to do.

With that, however, Ribadu had only just won the battle; he began a war of
attrition against Aondoakaa, who eventually succeeded in hounding him out—
with the connivance of other people, of course.

Incidentally, at Yar’Adua’s accession to power in May 2007, the British

government had concluded that Ibori would stand trial in the United Kingdom.
From the representations made to the office of the AGF and the Foreign
Ministry, there was no mincing words about the fact that they wanted Ibori
extradited to face criminal charges. The complication, however, was that all the
alleged infractions for which they wanted to nail Ibori were committed in
Nigeria with the evidence obtained from the EFCC. On August 30, 2007, the
office of the Director, United Kingdom Fraud Prosecution Service, sent a 31-
page letter to the AGF. It was signed by Crown Prosecutor, David M. Williams.

In seeking Aondoakaa’s assistance on what was code-named Operation Tureen

on James Onanefe Ibori, Christine Ibori-Ibie, Adebimpe Pogoson and Udoamaka
Okoronkwo, the prosecutor thanked the office of the AGF for “the response
which they provided in response to my earlier request dated 23rd August 2006.”
The implication of this was that Aondoakaa’s predecessor, Chief Bayo Ojo,
SAN, had been assisting with regard to the investigation, which the prosecutor
said was meant not only for criminal proceedings, but to enforce a confiscation
order on the numerous properties of Ibori in the United Kingdom and several
other countries across the globe.

The prosecutor explained that in his earlier investigation of Ibori, code-named

Operation Heimdal, he had been given the assets declaration form with the
Nigerian Code of Conduct Bureau where the former Delta State governor
claimed he had no foreign bank account. Yet, only a few weeks in office in 1999,
the prosecutor observed, he had opened two sterling accounts and one dollar
account in the United Kingdom. Ibori, according to the prosecutor, had also been
actively diverting “funds from his state’s funding allocation and laundered the
proceeds through the United Kingdom banking system using other suspects to
assist him.”

The UK investigator claimed also that sundry transactions running into billions
of naira and several millions of British pound sterling involving his special
assistant, Adebimpe Pogoson; his sister, Ibori-Ibie; and friend, Okoronkwo were
carried out on behalf of Ibori.

The prosecutor, in his deposition to the AGF, listed some of the properties
already identified in the United Kingdom as belonging to Ibori. They are Flat 23,
20 Abbey Road, London NW8 9BJ; 7 Westover Hill, London, NW3 7VH, and
42 Great Grand Shaftsbury, Dorset SP 7 8FF. Ibori was also named as the
beneficial owner of Haleway Properties and Boyd Properties, both in Gibraltar
as well as Teleton Quays (BVI). Also listed was Julia Foundation in Panama, a
financial investment company that was allegedly used to launder money across
the globe. Ibori’s sister, Christine, was also said to own three properties in the
UK: 58 Uphill Drive, London NW9 OBX; 76 Woodhill Crescent, Kenton,
Harrow, Middlesex HA OLZ; and 139 Kingfisher Way, London NW10.

Detailing how Ibori allegedly diverted Delta State’s funds using several fronts
(including prominent Nigerians whose names were mentioned) and 32 banks in
Nigeria,1 the prosecutor said the former governor also purchased a Mayback 62
car in May 2005 from London, which was then delivered to him in South Africa
at a cost of 406,598.84 euro.

The vehicle was air-freighted via Frankfurt, Germany, to Johannesburg, South

Africa.

With an account in Switzerland, Ibori also allegedly made a deposit of

$4,700,000 for a Challenger 300 aircraft believed to cost $20 million.

To indicate that they had extensive information at their disposal (all evidently
supplied by Ribadu), the investigators even attached several intercepted e-mails
between some bankers and Adebimpe Pogoson, Ibori’s assistant. In one dated
Wednesday, July 13, 2005, and sent at 10:36 p.m., the banker, a Yoruba lady,
wrote that she had discussed the EFCC issue with Ibori and three other persons
(confidants of the former governor) whose names she mentioned. These people,
she said, had given some tips on dealing with the situation. “At this point, we
have concluded that there is no point trying to hide a connection between the
companies as these people already have most of the information.

Some people seem to be of the impression that we were simply too careless
(strange how people shift the blame when the push comes to shove).” The lady
banker then listed what she considered “the major problems we have in my
opinion from oga [Ibori]/EFCC perspective…,” one of which was that “perhaps
we should have restricted ourselves to paying just cash” rather than cheques for
“places like Oghara and our other private locations. We don’t know how these
people will fare under pressure and I don’t want to complicate things by briefing
everyone.” The prosecutor meticulously detailed several overseas accounts and
companies said to belong to Ibori, the names of the people allegedly fronting for
him and sundry other allegations of how he diverted Delta State money to
commit economic crimes, especially in the United Kingdom. With appendices
totaling more than 500 pages of evidence, the documents attached were
overwhelming in content and volume, and it was easy to see that most of them
emanated from the EFCC. At the end of the letter, the prosecutor sought the
assistance of the AGF to ensure that Detective Constable Peter Clark and
Detective John McDonald of the Metropolitan Police at Wellington House,
Buckingham Palace Road SW1, be permitted to liaise with the competent
Nigerian authorities with regard to the investigation of Ibori.

Aondoakaa neither replied this letter nor acted on it. Not even when there was a
follow-up delegation from the British High Commission in Abuja to remind him
of his obligation. His plan would soon unfold; he seemed to have already set in
motion the machinery to frustrate the trial in London. It started with an
apparently contrived letter dated August 4, 2007, from one Mr. Speechly
Bircham, LP, which was aimed at eliciting a response that would aid the defeat
of the prosecution’s case. Within 48 hours after the letter was written in London,
a reply was already back to the United Kingdom from the office of the AGF. In a
carefully worded letter, Aondoakaa admitted that Ibori was indeed investigated
in connection with his acts while in office as Delta State governor but that there
was no record that he had been charged to court in Nigeria in respect of any
offence. Invariably, the AGF exonerated Ibori of complicity in any criminal
proceedings in Nigeria.

When the letter became public knowledge, the AGF vehemently denied such
correspondence ever emanated from his office. The letter was published
afterwards in the media, but his explanation was just as intriguing: it was an
innocent clarification in response to a request from Ibori’s lawyers, he said.
Instructively, in arguing his case, Ibori’s lawyer relied on the AGF letter and on
that basis the Southwark Crown Court lifted the restraining order against his
assets in October 2007, a verdict that Aondoakaa would celebrate at the time as
‘vindication’ of his position.

This made the UK Director of Public Prosecution, Mr. Ken Macdonald, QC, to
write Aondoakaa a strongly worded letter, part of which read: The Crown
Prosecution Service has conduct of restraint proceedings against Mr.

Ibori ancillary to a criminal investigation being conducted by officers of the

Metropolitan Police in London.

On 2 August 2007, we obtained a restraint order that prohibits Mr. Ibori from
dealing with all his realizable property worldwide so that the property can be
utilized to satisfy any confiscation order that may be made at the end of
proceedings in the event of conviction. The assets referred to in the restraint
order include US$20,075,274 held in escrow by the aircraft manufacturer
Bombadier of Canada.

On 1 October 2007, on the application of Mr. Ibori, a judge at the Southwark

Crown Court in London discharged the restraint order. The main factor behind
the judge’s decision was the length of time the investigation has taken and the
lack of progress towards a decision whether or not to charge Mr. Ibori. I am
disappointed to learn we were not in a position to assure the judge that we had
the full cooperation of the Nigerian authorities and indeed to concede that there
are practical difficulties about getting unimpeded access to evidence obtained by
the EFCC in Nigeria.

We have today given notice to the Crown Court of our intention to appeal the
decision to discharge the restraint order, and we will be making an application to
stay the decision pending determination of the appeal. I understand that on 10

October 2007, the officers of the Metropolitan Police are travelling to Nigeria to
continue their enquiries and collect evidence the EFCC has obtained of offences
committed by Mr. Ibori in Nigeria. The purpose of writing is to seek your
assurances that the requested evidence will be made available for transmission
back to the United Kingdom…as you know, my department has also obtained
restraint orders against Mr. Ibori’s three co-suspects, and we have proceedings
extant and pending against other former governors. The difficulty and lack of
progress in obtaining hard evidence from Nigeria is causing major difficulties in
relation to the court proceedings in the United Kingdom and putting these other
cases in jeopardy.

The Crown Prosecution Service is both committed and determined to work

closely with the international community and Nigeria to combat corruption, and
I look forward to your assurances that we will have Nigeria’s continued
cooperation in this matter.

The AGF did not reply this letter, but fortuitously for Ibori, it was at this point
that Aondoakaa ‘stumbled’ on the fact that Ribadu had not been confirmed for a
second term. Like Mrs. Ifueko Okauru, Chairman of the Federal Inland Revenue
Service (FIRS), Ribadu had been reappointed for a second term of four years by
Obasanjo, but while Okauru’s name was sent to the Senate for confirmation, as
required by Section 11 of the FIRS (Establishment) Act 2007, Ribadu’s name
was not sent to comply with Section 2 of the EFCC (Establishment) Act 2004.
Given that Ribadu, like everyone in his position, needed to be confirmed by the
Senate, this was an omission that would be his Achilles’

heel.

But first, the inspector general of police, Mr. Mike Okiro, came into the picture
by including Ribadu’s name on the list of officers the police was sending for a
course at NIPSS in Kuru, Jos.

I was in Ilorin on Christmas holiday with my family when Ribadu called to

inform me of the directive, which he said he would disregard. As he fumed, I
pleaded with him to calm down. I had to cut short my holiday and return to
Abuja. I believed that such a move would have a serious backlash and make my
job very difficult. I met the president, and he confirmed that he had the memo
but had yet to decide on what he would do, though I could see that he didn’t pay
much attention to my advice on the issue, perhaps because he knew that on
Ribadu, my intervention could not possibly be impartial. He needed to see Okiro
to know why he wanted Ribadu sent to NIPSS, he explained. That, in effect,
meant he had not taken a decision on the issue. I took this message back to
Ribadu, pleading with him not to say anything publicly on the matter as the chief
of staff, Major General Abdullahi Mohammed (rtd.), had also waded in.

This dragged on for another week, giving General Mohammed and me some
more time to try and ensure that the president did not sanction the idea of NIPSS.
But, unknown to us, it was already a done deal. What gave the game away was
the January 7, 2008, memo to the president from Okiro, which confirmed that
the president had indeed given his approval earlier.

Okiro’s memo to the president had begun by saying: “Consequent upon Your
Excellency’s approval of my letter dated 24th December, 2007, on the
nomination of senior police officers as participants for the Senior Executives
Course 30/2008, the affected officers will be warned to hand over to their next in
command by 11th January, 2008. This is to enable them [to] prepare adequately
for the course which commences on 4th February, 2008.”

This directive, according to Okiro, affected the EFCC chairman. He wrote: Since
AIG Nuhu Ribadu was appointed from the Nigeria Police by virtue of Part 1

Section 2 (11) of the EFCC Act, and a vacancy now exists as a result of his
going on course for a period of one year…, there is the dire need for him to hand
over to a successor. In line with the provision of Part 1, Section 4 of the EFCC
Act, which stipulates that “where a vacancy occurs in the membership of the
Commission it shall be filled by the appointment of a successor to hold office for
the remainder of the term for the office of his predecessor so that the successor
shall represent the same interest as his predecessor’, I recommend that AIG
Nuhu Ribadu hands (sic) over to Assistant Commissioner of Police Ibrahim
Lamorde who is the next in command at the Commission meanwhile.

My salvage mission also took me to the IGP to convince him to drop the
decision to send Ribadu to NIPSS, but it was a futile effort. Okiro, like many in
the top hierarchy of the police, had his grouses against Ribadu, who was said to
have been very disrespectful, indeed contemptuous, of him when Mr. Sunday
Ehindero (to whom Ribadu was close) was the inspector general of police. Many
senior police officers were also unhappy about Ribadu’s ‘irregular promotion’
and the way he seemed to disparage the institution of which he was a member
just because he was heading the EFCC. Even those who did not like the
disgraced IGP, Mr. Tafa Balogun, felt that the humiliation he was made to suffer
at the hands of the EFCC was not good for the image of the police. So,
invariably, Ribadu had several powerful foes to contend with, and some of them
were baying for blood.

I believed also that the president was not altogether ignorant about the unfolding
intrigues and that he may have given his tacit approval in the bid to get rid of
Ribadu. While I could not put my finger on a particular reason, a conversation I
once had with him on the former EFCC chairman and the recollections of two
close associates of his convinced me he was not quite comfortable with the idea
of working with Ribadu from the outset.

One day during lunch break during an FEC session, I sat with the president, and
we began to chat. I will never forget that day, because even ministers who never
regarded me began to court my friendship afterwards. Looking back, it is
difficult to explain what happened that day; we must have chatted for close to an
hour and actually delayed resumption of the FEC meeting for about 15 minutes,
still enjoying our conversation, while all the ministers were already back to the
council chambers. It took the intervention of other aides, particularly the
presidential liaison officer (PLO) and the chief security officer (CSO), who felt
irritated that I was taking too much liberty with the president, to put an end to
our informal session.

In the course of our discussion, the president told me of how he was endorsed by
Obasanjo before asking, “Do you know that your friend Nuhu singlehandedly
stopped Dr.

Peter Odili from being my running mate?” he asked rhetorically. “Such was the
power he had over baba (Obasanjo) that whatever he said was law!” I knew a
little bit about the event recounted by the president because I was an outsider
witness. But he presented it in a way that suggested Ribadu probably had a
power of blackmail over Obasanjo. This issue had indeed come up early in the
life of the administration, when one of the governors suggested that Ribadu was
fast becoming another ‘John Edgar Hoover’, the founding director of the
American Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI), believed to have wielded
enormous power through amassing secret files on political leaders by using
illegal methods. From the way the president talked, it was evident he would
heave a big sigh of relief if Ribadu could be removed from EFCC, especially if
there was a legal way to do it, before Ribadu could become too powerful to be
touched. Not a few people in government felt that way.

The president also complained to me about how the EFCC was acting like it was
above the law, recalling an incident where their operatives came to Katsina to
arrest local government chairmen in what he described as a Gestapo-like
operation. The other details, later supplied by close associates, were that once it
became obvious that he (Yar’Adua) had been anointed by Obasanjo as successor,
an incensed Ribadu, who had been rooting for the then FCT minister, Mr. Nasir
el-Rufai, reacted badly. Aside from meeting Obasanjo to express his
disappointment, Ribadu badly managed a later session he had with Yar’Adua, to
put the account mildly. I have heard different versions of the encounter from
several insiders, but the constant factor is that Ribadu dismissed Yar’Adua to his
face, saying that he was unqualified for the office of president. It was an insult
Yar’Adua apparently never forgot. Nor forgave!

So the NIPSS idea was very convenient. Even while Lamorde, EFCC director of
operations, was asked to act, a replacement was soon foisted on the commission
in a manner that made nonsense of the president’s avowed commitment to the
rule of law. But the AGF would rationalize it. Almost as soon as he sent the
name of Farida Waziri to the Senate, and without waiting for her clearance, she
was announced as acting chairman and made to resume. This irked the Senate
members, who ordinarily should have confirmed her appointment. Some feeble
protests were made, but the president got away with it.

Nonetheless, the EFCC’s tragic saga continued.

While still at NIPSS, Ribadu and 139 other senior officers were demoted by the
Police Service Commission on August 5, 2008. Ribadu, particularly, was
demoted two ranks: from Assistant Inspector General of Police to Deputy
Commissioner of Police. Even though 140 officials were involved in what the
Police Service Commission (PSC) described as an exercise meant to restore the
integrity of the force, a barrage of condemnations followed the announcement,
which was seen as being targeted at Ribadu, as most people echoed the
sentiment of the late Chief Gani Fawehinmi2, who described the demotion of the
former EFCC chairman as ‘absolutely bizarre’ and a punishment for honesty.

The public thought that the presidency was behind the exercise, and even when
the president told me he had nothing to do with it, I also had my doubts. What I
knew at the time, though, was that several officers within the Villa, including
Hamza Nafada, the president’s ADC as Katsina governor, who had become the
special assistant on domestic affairs, were also affected in the exercise.

I spoke to Comfort Obi, respected journalist and member of the Police Service
Commission (PSC), and she explained that reversing the promotion of Ribadu,
and 139

other police officers, was the proper thing to do and that it was done to correct
the illegalities of the past. She assured me that they were not in anyway guided
by any quarters. This was the position canvassed by the PSC chairman, Mr.
Parry Osayande, when he appeared before the Senate. A retired deputy inspector
general of police, Osayande argued that they acted properly and in accordance
with the law. “The truth of the matter is that due process was not followed, a
situation where you, a junior officer, would jump over 2,000 superior officers
and be promoted above your seniors is dangerous for the system,” he said.

The secretary to the Commission, Alhaji Garba Buwai, gave a detailed

background of the events leading to the demotion of the 140 officers: “On 16th
and 30th October 2006, the former IGP submitted memorandum to the
Commission for consideration of: five DCP to CP; seven ACP to DCP; four CSP
to SP and one ASP to CSP. The former Commission during its 48th Ordinary
Meeting of 16th November 2006, following submission from Appointment and
Promotion Committee, deliberated on the Special Promotion and rejected the
recommendation.” Buwai alleged that Ehindero, in his capacity as inspector
general of police, then subsequently took advantage of the vacuum created by
the expiration of the tenure of the preceding members of the PSC to carry out the
promotion of the officers ‘through the back door’, a decision that he said
contravened provisions of the 1999 Constitution. He added that when Ehindero’s
tenure was coming to an end, he also announced the promotion of officers
through signals that he sent to their various formations.

According to the PSC Secretary, “on 18th December, 2006 after the tenure of the
Commission expired, the former IGP sent a signal conveying the President’s
[Chief Olusegun Obasanjo’s] approval of the promotion of the officers earlier
rejected by the Commission to the rank of Commissioner of Police. The request
by the Commission to get a copy of Mr. President’s approval was not submitted
to the Commission.” Defending the demotion of Ribadu and others, Osayande,
who was accompanied to the Senate by five members of the Commission, said
that even if it had been the president who had approved the elevations, it would
still have been reversed because the establishing act vested the powers of
promotion of police officers on the PSC only. Mr.

Ogbonnaya Onovo (then a DIG), who represented the IGP Okiro (whom he
would later succeed), said that the Commission reversed the illegality in order
not to destroy the entire police force: “The tenets of democracy are all about
transparency and openness in governance. In my over 30 years of service in the
police—since I joined the police as a cadet officer (ASP)—promotion has
always been a matter of seniority and merit. The moment you join, you know
your mates and your seniors. Every officer knows when he is due for promotion
and his seniors.”

Onovo said arbitrary promotion, as was done in the Ribadu case,3 could only
breed indiscipline and bad blood within the system because “once an officer is
skipped in promotion, he becomes demoralized. It is a very painful thing to
watch your junior become your boss. It must be noted that the role of the PSC is
well defined, and the Commission has done the right thing by correcting some of
the illegalities carried out in order not to destroy the police force.”

Onovo’s position was supported by the Commissioner of Police

(Administration), Mr.

Felix Ogbaudu, in the course of a deposition before the House of

Representatives. Stating that Ribadu was promoted first from the post of Deputy
Commissioner to Commissioner of Police and then Assistant Inspector General
of Police (AIG) all within one year, Ogbaudu explained that such unprecedented
career progression was unhelpful for morale in the police. Ogbaudu particularly
wondered why Ribadu, who had joined the Nigeria Police about 10 years after
he (Ogbaudu) was enlisted, should now become his boss. This same Ribadu, he
argued, had served under him (Ogbaudu) as Chief Superintendent at a time when
he (Ogbaudu) had already become a Commissioner of Police.

Whereas it could be conceded that the PSC had sufficiently credible grounds for
the action they took on the 140 officers, most observers believed there was
absence of good faith with regard to the travails of Ribadu—a view that would
be given credence on graduation day at NIPSS. Security agents, acting on the
orders of the AGF, who was at the graduation without invitation, attempted to
drag the former EFCC boss out of the venue of an event where the VP was
present as the head of the institution.
Once alerted by journalists about what was going on at Kuru, I called a senior
NIPSS

official, who explained how Aondoakaa was threatening him on Ribadu, using
the name of the president. The official told me that the issue of Ribadu had given
NIPSS problems, as they were subjected to pressure not to address Ribadu as
AIG but DCP. The NIPSS

authorities, however, argued that the letter from the police, who had sent Ribadu
for the course, addressed him as AIG, and they had not been informed of any
change in his official title. However, following pressure from the AGF, the
institute had to print another set of brochures that listed Ribadu as a ‘Deputy
Commissioner of Police’. All these efforts still did not satisfy Aondoakaa, who
argued that Ribadu should not graduate, since his rank fell short of the minimum
cadre for a course meant for Commissioners of Police and above.

I narrated all these to the president, who later met with the VP under whose
purview NIPSS was and a face-saving decision was reached for Ribadu to be
given his certificate.

But the damage had already been done: a rash of lawsuits to challenge his
demotion ensued before Ribadu eventually fled the country for the United States.
He also began to collaborate with the British authorities on how to bring Ibori to
justice as he filed a personal deposition against the former Delta State governor.
The interesting point to note is that being always one step ahead of his foes,
Ribadu anticipated every move Ibori and the AGF were making and always
reached the media first with his version of events.

Sadly, it was the president who suffered all the collateral damage.

Back at home, Aondoakaa also continued to defend Ibori. On September 10,

2009, he addressed the media and said the EFCC had already cleared Ibori over
the sale of the state’s shares to V-Mobile4 around 2007, but he was silent on the
allegation that the Delta State government offered its 820 million units of shares
in Oceanic International Plc to Ascot Offshore Nigeria Limited to secure a N44
billion loan from Intercontinental Bank Plc in 2007. Aondoakaa, who spoke with
newsmen in his office in Abuja, deliberately muddled up different issues to
achieve a predetermined end. He also attacked Ribadu, whom he alleged was
working against Yar’Adua’s administration from abroad by giving false
information to the British government about the situation in Nigeria. He added
that the revelation about the clearance of Ibori emerged following a request from
the British government for more information about the deal.

Not more than an hour after this curious press briefing, where the AGF
exonerated Ibori, I got a call from a senior official at the presidency who
informed me that at the time Aondoakaa was briefing the media, Ibori was
actually in his office and must have instigated the statement. When I asked if I
could quote him before the president, the official gave his go-ahead.

My conversation with the president was rather unpleasant because I didn’t mince
words about my feeling and frustrations on the whole sordid drama, especially
the influence Ibori had on the AGF, and by implication, on the administration.

Later that evening, I got another call that the VP wanted to see me, so I went to
meet him at his residence. I was surprised when Jonathan asked me whether I
was giving the right advice to the president on the Ibori matter since the image
of my boss was involved. He said the matter was bringing the government to
ridicule both at home and abroad, especially the way the AGF was handling it.
He particularly mentioned the case of the ministers of health who were removed
from office for charges that were not as serious as the ones being perpetrated by
the AGF. I told the VP all that I had done on the issue but asked why he himself
had not intervened. He merely shrugged his shoulders, an indication that he had
probably done so and no action was taken or that he considered his intervention
unnecessary. I nevertheless pleaded with him to also speak to the president about
it.

I felt disturbed by my discussion with the VP, especially because many people in
government felt the way he did: they could not understand why the AGF was
allowed to act as Ibori’s lawyer and defender. I knew I could not go back to the
president on the same issue I had discussed with him earlier and on which I was
now sounding almost like a broken gramophone, so I decided it was better I
write him an informal note, which I then enclosed with the newspaper summary
the next morning. Dated September 12, 2009, the note read:

I hesitate to send Your Excellency this note, but my conscience will not allow
me to stay silent since I made a commitment to serve you in all honesty. Last
week, I inaugurated the Information Management Committee comprising the
Information Directors/Press Secretaries in all ministries and MDAs as we chart
the way forward on managing the public perception for the government.

One unfortunate issue that came up from most members was how the office of
the Attorney General has become Mr. James Ibori’s public relations outfit. The
AGF media intervention on the case in London is now the focus of attention
globally with many people, including our own government officials, worried
about how the fate of one man has become the sole responsibility of the Justice
Minister.

Yesterday evening, the VP invited me to ask whether I have advised you on the
implications of the London matter with regards to the negative image it would
bring to the administration, home and abroad, and I said he should discuss the
matter with you himself. He even cited the case of the two Health Ministers who
were removed from office for a matter he considered less embarrassing than this
for the government.

While the president never discussed the issue with me, it was also becoming
very clear that he might have decided to put some distance between himself and
his controversial AGF. There were also hints that Aondoakaa could be moved to
another ministry in a minor cabinet reshuffle. What gave credibility to this
speculation was that two weeks before the president travelled to Saudi Arabia in
November 2009, he asked the labour minister, Mr. Tokunbo Kayode, to deliver
his paper at the Judges Conference although Aondoakaa was in the country. It
was also evident that Aondoakaa, who felt very agitated that he was bypassed by
the president, was also losing his grip over the EFCC, whose chairperson, Mrs.
Farida Waziri, denounced him by stating that contrary to what he said, Ibori had
not been exonerated and that the letter that the AGF had read to the media had
no bearing on the V-Mobile case.

The embattled former governor of Delta State would, however, also fight back.5
In a public statement on his travails, Ibori said it was because he didn’t facilitate
the elevation of Ribadu to the position of the IGP; he also said that the former
EFCC chairman also sought his support in the bid to oust Yar’Adua from power:
Nuhu Ribadu must be a serial liar to attempt to deny that he approached me to
help unseat the present President. This is one of his numerous ongoing attempts
to recruit both local and international friends to undermine President Yar’Adua’s
administration. The persons he approached, including me, are still alive, and
they have given testimonies to security agencies. Ribadu even contacted a high-
ranking member of Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) with
complaints that a ‘sick Yar’Adua’ should not be allowed to remain in office and
also wanted a serving judge and member of the electoral panel to convince the
team of INEC

officials to concur with his evil plot that the ballot papers were not serially
numbered—to damage Yar’Adua’s defence. And he did this with some of his
foreign friends who, to date, still wish President Yar’Adua dead.

Ribadu, according to Ibori, “should wait for the persecution by him and his
London Metropolitan Police friends of my associates to break open in a full trial.
Then I will enclose copious documentary evidence to substantiate every claim I
have made. The opportunistic and brazen-faced Ribadu is nothing but a
fraudulent ‘anti-corruption Czar’

who operated with instruments of blackmail…he should shut up and stop

boasting about having been Nigeria’s anti-corruption Czar. He compromised
himself, politicizing his office, and teamed up with politicians to distribute funds
to influence National Assembly members in the failed third-term tenure
elongation gambit. He was a politician, not anti-corruption fighter.”

The former EFCC boss is, however, not a man who would allow such allegations
to go unchallenged, wondering how he could have sought “the assistance of a
convicted felon for the highest police position in the country? If I wanted to be
IG, he would be the last person I would consider to help me.” He added that it
was the past of the former Delta State governor that was haunting him and that
while Ibori could bribe his way in Nigeria to secure public appointment for
people of questionable character who would make it their pre-occupation to
shield him from prosecution, his nemesis would ultimately catch up with him in
the United Kingdom.

With the movement of the Ibori saga from Nigeria to Dubai and now to the
United Kingdom, it will be interesting to see the exchange between Ribadu and
the former Delta State governor when the duo finally meet in a London court.
But the saga very much tainted the image of the Yar’Adua administration, which
inherited, but never quite got involved in, high profile international cases of
corruption such as the Halliburton scam; the Willbros bribery saga and the
Siemens scandal.6 But there is nobody to blame but the late president himself.

I cannot forget the experience of December 30, 2007, when I walked into the
president’s residence, where I met him at the dining table with a few of his
friends. I was carrying the draft of a statement that I wanted him to approve to
enable me to douse the outrage generated by the controversy over the attempt to
send Ribadu to NIPSS that was still raging.

Knowing why I had come, since he was already aware of my concerns, he asked
me to sit down and eat. As we ate, he said, “Look, Segun, let me tell you a story.
Four days ago, I was sitting on this same table when CNN came with the
breaking news of the assassination of the prime minister of Pakistan, Mrs.
Benazir Bhutto. Throughout that day, that was the only story they relayed. By
the next day, they had started reporting other news, even though the Bhutto story
remained the most prominent. By yesterday, the intensity of the reportage of the
Bhutto affair had decreased and now if you watch the screen you will see that
CNN is gradually moving on to other issues. I am sure that very soon, your
friends in the media will forget about this Ribadu matter that is worrying you so
much. It doesn’t bother me because I know it will soon blow over.”
Unfortunately, the Ribadu saga never really blew over, as it inflicted devastating
damage to the reputation of President Yar’Adua, whose personal inclination was
against the corrupt. I have read the allegations contained in the US cables
published by Wikileaks against certain individuals, including his wife. But
despite that, Yar’Adua was a simple man with rather simple needs, and I still
believe he was not a man to be involved in crooked deals. A few examples will
validate my conviction.

I recall the pressure put on him not to declare his assets publicly on the grounds
that doing that would compel others to do so against the letter and spirit of the
law. Yet, he did. I also knew about his ambivalence towards wealth and his
disdain for all forms of materialism. As president, he lived a Spartan lifestyle
devoid of any form of personal pleasure, and one got the impression that he
knew, or perhaps feared, that he might not live long. That probably accounted for
why he was very spiritual. But given that corruption has over the years been
Nigeria’s elite vice, passion is easily inflamed when the people are led to believe
that a government’s anti-corruption campaign is no more than a ruse. With the
way the Ibori matter was handled, it was easy to come to that conclusion, yet
here was a president who went public to declare his unwavering support for the
removal of the immunity clause from our constitution.

With emphasis on laying out regulations and procedures that encourage due
process and respect for the institutions that deal with anti-corruption, Yar’Adua’s
motivation was to nudge Nigeria into an era of preventive anti-corruption. “We
now have a situation in which people award contracts without caring whether
they have enough money to complete the project, and because of this, there are
lots of abandoned projects all over the country, in fact some going into billions
of dollars. This is the kind of disrespect for established regulations and
procedures that feeds corruption,” he said at the World Economic Forum in
Davos, while speaking to a group of investors.

Yar’Adua, it must be noted, stopped the practice of ‘warehousing money’ at the

end of the year, which was the practice before he assumed office. Rather, he
insisted that all unspent money at the end of a budget cycle should be returned to
the treasury. It was the attempt to flout this directive that led to the ouster of two
ministers and 11 senior officials in the Ministry of Health, as well as the arrest of
some members of the National Assembly Committee on Health. It was also his
insistence on due process that led to the exposure of the fraud at the Rural
Electrification Agency, which culminated in the arrest of senior officials and
some lawmakers.

Cognizant of the fact that the resources in the hands of the federal government
far outweigh those of the entire 36 states and the 774 local governments put
together, the president believed that it was charitable to begin the fight against
corruption at that level, so that by plugging the requisite loopholes at the federal
level, it would be easier to lead by example. For him, plugging loopholes meant
allowing officials of the Bureau of Public Procurement (BPP) to be rigorous in
their oversight functions, all in the bid to enthrone a regime of transparency and
accountability. That accounted for the enormous powers wielded by the director
general of the bureau, Engineer Emeka Eze; any project that did not secure his
certification was as good as dead.

It is on record that Yar’Adua instituted the policy of e-payment, which became

effective January 1, 2009, for the settlement of all federal government
obligations. There has been some resistance, but with faithful implementation, it
will drastically reduce corruption in a nation where politicians’ preferred method
of payment for under-the-table deals is cash.

With e-payment, banks are now instructed to make direct payments to the
accounts of employees, consultants and other service providers so that these
payments can be easily tracked. With e-payment, contractors now get their
payments directly into their accounts, and banks are under obligation not to open
corporate accounts for companies not registered by the Corporate Affairs
Commission or companies without a tax identification number. This not only
enhances the audit trail, it eliminates cash for online transactions and reduces
interactions between officers responsible for payments and the beneficiaries.

At the federal level, corruption is now so much easier to track, if the anti-
corruption agencies are alive to their responsibilities.

Of course, it’s also worth noting that Yar’Adua helped to sanitize the banks by
putting the weight of his office behind the Central Bank reform, which saw to
the removal and subsequent trial of some chief executives of banks, even when
his family had substantial interest in one of the affected banks. Perhaps in years
to come, the enduring legacy of Yar’Adua will be in the legislation he
superintended in the fight against graft with the bill that he sent to the National
Assembly in his last few months in office.

On April 8, 2009, he brought an executive memo to the Federal Executive

Council (FEC) for the approval of a draft bill for the introduction of a non
conviction-based asset forfeiture system in Nigeria, as well as the establishment
of a regulatory framework for the control and management of assets both before
and after confiscation. This initiative is aimed at strengthening the capacity of
the government to recover assets that are proceeds of corruption and to assist in
putting pressure on countries where stolen assets are located to return such assets
to the state of origin. It is also the mechanism by which, in the absence of
criminal proceedings, the proceeds of criminal activity could be confiscated so
as to deprive a person of ill-gotten wealth.

Once passed, asset forfeiture would not be thwarted by immunities or inability to

extradite a suspect who is beyond reach, while also allowing asset recovery
where, in the event of the death or absence of the suspect(s), confiscation and
return of property involved would not otherwise be possible. It will also allow
for confiscation where an individual has been tried before a criminal court but
acquitted, perhaps through a questionable verdict or because the evidence,
although probative, fell short of the criminal standard of proof.

Yar’Adua envisaged a comprehensive and institutional approach to fighting

corruption, but, unfortunately, this was exploited by some unscrupulous officials
who had scant regard for the law. However, as the man at whose desk the buck
stopped, he must accept responsibility—and Nigerians indeed hold him
accountable—for everything that happened on his watch.

Endnotes

1 There were 85 banks in Nigeria before the 2004 consolidation policy which
ultimately reduced them to 25.

2 Chief Fawehinmi, SAN, Nigeria’s respected human rights crusader and lawyer,
was one of the staunchest supporters of Ribadu. Chief Fawehinmi died of cancer
in 2009 at age 71.

3 Ribadu was promoted first from the post of Deputy Commissioner to

Commissioner of Police and then Assistant Inspector General of Police (AIG)
within one year by former President Chief Olusegun Obasanjo.

4 The alleged illegal trading in V-Mobile shares involved three former

governors, Chief James Ibori of Delta State, Senator Bola Tinubu of Lagos State
and Obong Victor Attah of Akwa Ibom State.

5 At a press conference in Lagos in September 2009, the former governor of

Delta State accused Ribadu of acting as a tool to former President Obasanjo
because he (Ibori) refused to support the failed third term bid and for
championing the move to get the federal government to pay oil producing states
13 per cent derivation fund which he argued dated back to 1999.

6 Siemens and Wilbros were alleged to have bribed some Nigerian officials in
order to secure telecommunications and oil service contracts in Nigeria while
Halliburton officials confessed that they paid about $180m in bribe to top public
officials, also to secure a juicy oil contract; all before Yar’Adua came to power.


The Oily Affairs

President Yar’Adua’s convictions in relation to the oil and gas industry were not
in doubt from his first day in office: a holistic review of the governing structure
of the sector was necessary for it to truly serve the interest of the people. Indeed,
he made no pretenses about his commitment to that, and he often viewed Brazil’s
Petrobas1 as a model to which the nation should aspire. It was for that reason he
had taken keen interest in the Petroleum Industry Bill (PIB), conceived to
harness opportunities and address the challenges in the oil and gas sector. The
bill’s aim is to ensure that Nigeria derives maximum benefit, directly and
indirectly, across oil and gas value chains by opening up horizons for wider
participation of stakeholders and entrenching transparency.

Not everyone shared the president’s enthusiasm. The current operators in Nigeria
especially never hid their opposition to the PIB, because it introduces a number
of changes to the existing fiscal system governing oil and gas operation in the
country.

Some of the key changes include the fact that all companies engaged in upstream
petroleum operation would be required to pay Company Income Tax. The bill’s
other creation is the Nigerian Hydrocarbon Tax (NHT), which is a simplified
version of Petroleum Profit Tax. When implemented, these would provide for a
higher government take for deep offshore fields and marginally higher
government take for onshore and shallow waters.

The PIB also introduces a modern acreage management system with strict
relinquishment guidelines that would provide a platform for new investors, both
local and foreign, to enlist and contribute to the growth of the industry.
Companies currently operating in Nigeria would be required to give back certain
acreages from existing oil prospecting licenses and oil mining leases, except
with regard to acreages with production activities, or acreages that will be
developed in the near future. The intention was to prevent companies from
sitting on acreages that would have otherwise been available to new investors.
Yet the oil companies, long accustomed to certain ways of doing business in
Nigeria, would rather that the status quo remain.

It was against this background that a crucial meeting between Shell International
and the government was held in the first week of March 2008. It was
inconceivable that the company would be comfortable with a law that seeks to
subject it to the same system of rents, royalties and taxes as every other company
operating in Nigeria. The visiting CEO, Mr. Jeroen van der Veer, outlined the
company’s apprehensions about the bill, but the president’s calm reassurance
was that Shell’s interest would always be considered in all the actions taken by
Nigeria to reform the oil and gas sector, given the long history shared by the
company and the country. Nonetheless, he explained that the legal and
governance structures that had been designed since the 1970s had become
inadequate for the needs of the Nigerian oil and gas industry.

The reform commenced under President Olusegun Obasanjo in 2000 with the
inauguration of the Oil and Gas Sector Implementation Committee (OGIC) by
Atiku Abubakar, who was then vice president, in his capacity as Chairman of the
National Council on Privatization (NCP). The committee was chaired by Dr.
Rilwanu Lukman, who was special adviser on petroleum at the time. The Bureau
of Public Enterprises (BPE) served as the OGIC secretariat and the then director
general, Mr. Nasir el-Rufai nominated most of the members, which included
Prof. Yinka Omorogbe, who would later play a crucial role on the issue. In 2007,
Yar’Adua brought back Lukman as presidential adviser on petroleum, essentially
because of the PIB.

Although Obasanjo had conceived OGIC, it was one area in which his successor
literarily hit the ground running. It all began on Saturday, August 11, 2007, when
the president inaugurated a committee headed by Lukman2, whom he had
appointed honorary special adviser, Energy and Strategic Matters and chairman
of the OGIC Reform Implementation Committee. His directive to them was brief
but quite challenging: review the OGIC

report and come up with a workable document within one week. In

reconstituting OGIC, Lukman also brought in three original members—Donu
Kogbara, Dr. M. M. Ibrahim, and Omorogbe, who headed the sub-committee
that drafted the bill.

About two weeks later, Lukman made a presentation that addressed four critical
areas: required legislation, funding and privatization, gas linkage with power
supply, and the role of the three tiers of government. The presentation harped on
the need to transform the Nigerian National Petroleum Corporation (NNPC)
from a huge amorphous cost centre with conflicting roles in policy, regulation,
commercial operations into a full-fledged international, integrated commercial
oil and gas corporation driven by revenue generation and profit objectives.

After extensive deliberation, the president directed that the committee’s report be
presented to the Federal Executive Council (FEC), and this was done on
Wednesday, August 29, 2007. Endorsed by the council, the report was eventually
sent to the National Assembly as ‘The Petroleum Industry Bill’ for their
consideration and enactment into law.

The president scrupulously explained all these processes to the Shell team before
seeking the cooperation of the company, arguing that it could be a win-win
situation for both Shell and Nigeria. But this optimism, even from what
transpired at the meeting, seemed to be a tall order, given that Shell had its own
ideas on how it believes Nigeria’s oil and gas industry should be run. Besides,
Shell had found relating with Yar’Adua rather difficult for two reasons: he had
expressed his displeasure with the company for its reluctance to make gas
available for electricity generation in the country and was also concerned about
Shell’s disrespect for constituted authority, as the company had developed the
habit of bypassing the NNPC to the presidency, a tendency the president wanted
to stop. For this reason, he always referred Shell to NNPC or invited NNPC

whenever Shell management attempted to meet him, and the company didn’t like
this.

The session, however, ended on a convivial note since the president assured the
visiting delegation that the reforms were not targeted at any of the multinational
oil companies.

With the meeting over, one of the company’s officials asked for my e-mail
address. He said Shell was holding an Investors Relations Presentation in
London on March 17 and that he wanted me to clear what the CEO intended to
say about their Nigerian operations.

A few days later, Shell indeed sent me the three paragraphs on Nigeria, which I
considered a fair representation of what transpired at the meeting, and I gave my
go-ahead. And that was what Jeroen van der Veer read in London.3
This rapprochement was rather short-lived, as the president, two months later,
directed the NNPC to take steps to recover outstanding payments of about two
billion US dollars due to the federal government from Shell and Exxon Mobil on
the Production Sharing Contracts (PSCs) for the Bonga and Erha oilfields. This
directive was based on the recommendations of the committee he had
established to verify the claims in a petition that alleged that revenue
opportunities had been lost to the nation in the implementation of the PSCs for
the two deep-offshore oil fields, which account for about 20 per cent of the
country’s total oil production. The following represents a breakdown of this
directive:

• The total sum of $1.496 billion accruable to NNPC, based on the proper
application of the PSC’s capital allowance, should be recovered. This sum was
made up of $850 million from Bonga and $646.3 million from Erha.

• The sum of $414.6 million accruable to NNPC and to government from Bonga
gas sales and as tax revenue from the gas sales be recovered.

• All future government gas sales agreements should account for natural gas
liquids (NGLs) to ensure that the government derives maximum economic
benefit from them and that this position be adopted in the renegotiation of all
existing PSC agreements that are due for renegotiation.

The gale of reform was not about to abate. President Yar’Adua further directed
that the Federal Inland Revenue Service (FIRS) should re-examine the company
income tax payments due from Shell Nigeria Exploration and Production
Company (SNEPCO) and Esso Exploration and Production Nigeria Limited
(EEPNL) on the operation of the two oilfields.

To the multinational oil companies, these decisions were akin to a declaration of

war, and it was evident they would fight back. But the president’s actions were
taken in good faith as a close look at their underlining premise will reveal:
critical to these decisions was that Bonga (Oil Mining Lease [OML] 118)—
which begun operations in November 2005—

and Erha (OML 133)—which commenced operations in March 2006—represent

Nigeria’s first major deep offshore developments and both fields are governed by
1993
PSCs. The license for Bonga is operated on behalf of the NNPC by SNEPCO
and that for Erha is operated by EEPNL.

The determination of crude oil allocation and entitlements from the fields by the
contractors (Shell and ExxonMobil) and NNPC had been faced with unresolved
issues since production commenced; this was brought to the president’s attention
when he assumed office. Contractors and NNPC, according to the brief given
him, had held different positions on the treatment of investment tax credit (ITC),
cost consolidation, timing of capital allowance and applicable royalty rates.
These factors, plus a combination of several other lapses therefore informed the
president’s directive that both Bonga and Erha be reviewed.

It was this situation that inspired establishing the committee headed by the
special adviser on petroleum matters, Dr. Emmanuel Egbogah, with the mandate
to ascertain the operations of the fields and determine if there were revenue
opportunities that might have been lost by government. Other members were
drawn from the Ministry of Finance, National Planning Commission and the
Department of Petroleum Resources (DPR). The CBN governor, accountant
general of the federation, the group managing director of NNPC, and the Federal
Inland Revenue Service chairman were also on the committee.

The committee was directed to determine the volumes of crude oil and gas that
was produced on both fields within a trial marketing period (TMP) of six months
and thereafter compare the side agreement clauses (if any) used for marketing
the crude oil. It was also required to ascertain the basis for establishing an
escrow account independent of the federation account, and why access to this
account was exclusively retained by Shell and ExxonMobil. Finally, the
committee was to identify the revenue stream and how the money was being
banked and distributed among the partners.

Based on the data received and subsequent analysis, the committee’s submission
was that a total revenue of $11.342 billion was accruable to federal government
and NNPC since the commencement of production from both Bonga and Erha
fields. After examining all the figures for royalty and tax as well as the benefit
from investment tax credit (ITC) used to offset tax obligation, the committee
concluded that there was a gap of $1.911 billion made up of $1.496 billion
(capital allowance), $288.5 million for Bonga gas sales to NLNG and $126.2
million as tax revenue on sale of Bonga gas. This represented the recoverable
sum from both Shell and ExxonMobil.
The president’s directives, however, left the oil companies unsettled and fuelled
the suspicion that with such a disposition, the idea behind the PIB could not be
in their interest. So, they began to plot strategies that would frustrate the bill.
When Mr. Rich Kruger, President of ExxonMobil, led an eight-man delegation to
the State House about three months after a similar visit by his Shell counterpart,
the president re-echoed his commitment to the oil companies: “I assure you that
as we reform the national oil company, we will take into account the mutual
interests of the international oil companies and the federal government. The
reforms meant to restructure our national economy will be a win-win situation
for Nigeria and the oil companies.” President Yar’Adua said Nigeria had enjoyed
a long relationship with the companies, adding, “We will ensure mutual
consultation, so that we can transform our national oil company without
upsetting the relationship we have with our partners.” At both his public and
private meetings, the president took a conciliatory path as he pleaded for the
support of the oil companies with regard to the reforms of the industry.

Yet, as revelations from some secret cables from the United States embassy in
Nigeria published by Wikileaks show,4 it is obvious that the oil companies, Shell
particularly, were out to ensure that the PIB was not passed and if passed at all,
would be a version that would not in anyway advance the interest of the Nigerian
stakeholders.

In one of the leaked cables written by former US ambassador to Nigeria, Dr.

Robin Sanders, Shell’s regional executive vice-president for Africa, Ann
Pickard, was quoted to have said the international oil companies (IOC) were
quite concerned about the ‘very flawed’ new petroleum sector energy bill.

On October 20, 2009, Deputy Chief of Mission, Dundas McCullough wrote:

Pickard said the GON [government of Nigeria] wanted the National Assembly to
pass the [PIB] by November 17 in order for the GON to be able to announce it at
the upcoming CWC Gulf of Guinea Conference in London November 17-19.
She said that if the House passes the PIB in the coming weeks, “We need to
move quickly” to obtain any necessary changes before it becomes law.
Fortunately, she added: “We are working with the House and the House appears
to want to work with us.” She continued, saying that if the Senate passed the
PIB, “We aren’t worried.” Unfortunately, she explained, “We think the Senate
will pass a bad bill,” but it wouldn’t really matter. She added that she would be
at the Nigerian House and Senate later that day and would let the embassy know
if there were any unexpected developments.


The Ambassador asked if Shell had had engagements with the GON outside the
National Assembly, such as with the Ministry of Finance and the Central Bank
of Nigeria. Pickard said, “We are meeting with them at all levels.” She noted that
an IMF team headed by Charles McPherson was in Abuja to look at the PIB and
that Shell would be meeting with them as well. In contrast, she said, “We are
worried about the World Bank’s political agenda, and it is not clear what their
agenda is.” She said the World Bank was working on how to make the IJVs
[International Joint Ventures] ‘bankable’ so that they would be able to go to
international and domestic banks for financing.

One fact that must, however, be conceded is that Pickard was consistent in her
opposition to the PIB, which she publicly described as “a cumbersome document
that lacks insight into the very basics of our industry,” at a public lecture in
Abuja in February 2010. This view had then been countered by petroleum
minister, Dr. Rilwan Lukman who said, “Let’s wait and see. Very soon we [will]
know who is wrong.” Incidentally, renowned energy consultant, Pedro van
Meurs, had at the same forum described Shell’s opposition to the fiscal
provisions of the PIB as one induced essentially by profit. “There is no truth in
the allegation that [the] PIB fiscal system is the harshest in the world or that it
will halt investment. I have been advising governments all over the world for
over 40 years, and I know that this is a battle whereby the oil company will try to
get out of the parliament the highest possible share. So they make loud noise so
maybe somebody out there might be listening to them,” argued Meurs, who
happens to be Dutch.5

Shell, however, began to feel the heat when the NNPC Group general manager,
Public Affairs Division, Dr. Levi Ajuonuma, accused the company of being “at
the forefront of a renewed attempt to scuttle the planned passage of the
Petroleum Industry Bill, which is currently before the National Assembly.”

Egbogah would stir the hornet’s nest when, in a media interview, he made
specific allegations about attempts to compromise the lawmakers: “The oil
companies are taking the senators to Ghana to feed them, going to Labour people
to bribe them and saying that this reform is going to kill you and all that
nonsense.” Arguing that the oil companies had been milking Nigeria for 50 years
and that they wanted to continue to do so, Egbogah added, “But we know our
roles, and we know what to do and how to do it. They are not to educate us on
how to do that. We will take our destiny in our hands and Nigerians will begin to
see the benefits. It will not happen today, it will take some time, but everyone
will realize we are doing this for ourselves.6”

Legislators were outraged by this allegation, with some actually accusing the
presidency of attempts to blackmail them. There was also a resolution for
Egbogah to be invited to substantiate the claim. Even though the special adviser
apologized, explaining that he never meant to impugn the integrity of the
Senators and that he had used the word ‘lobby’

and not ‘bribe’, the chairman of the Senate Committee on Information and
Media, Senator Ayogu Eze (PDP, Enugu North), confirmed that some members
were indeed sponsored on a trip to Ghana without the knowledge of the Senate
leadership: I need to say clearly that we have found out, unfortunately and
regrettably, that there was an attempt by some private sector organizations to
lobby members of the National Assembly on the bill that is before the National
Assembly. We found out today that some members of the National Assembly did
go to Ghana, and we are also not very happy with the development because
Section 21 of our Standing Rules specifies categorically that before you can
travel abroad for whatever reason, you must write to the leadership of the
Senate, stating the purpose, stating the duration of your stay and stating the
address where you are going to stay.

The committee or the individuals that are involved never wrote to the leadership,
never informed us; so, we are completely in the dark about the people who made
the trip, and we are not happy about that, and we have referred the matter, based
on the motion brought by a member, to the Committee on Ethics and Public
Petition.

Eze assured Nigerians that there would be a public hearing on the matter and that
if any senator was found wanting, there would be consequences. Though Eze did
not mention the names of senators who made the trip to Ghana, the chairman of
the Senate Committee on Petroleum (Upstream), Senator Lee Maeba, who was
not part of the trip, gave a blunt summary of events: “When they returned from
Ghana, I discussed with distinguished Senator Amange, but I have not received
official brief from those who went to Ghana. Senator Amange is even lamenting
as to why he went there because there were even issues of estacode not paid to
them and a lot of other issues which made them to return a day before they were
supposed to return.”

The said seminar, attended by eleven senators and representatives of Labour, was
sponsored by the Oil Producers Trade Session (OPTS) then chaired by Mr. Basil
Omiyi, former country chairman of Shell. If the Senate ever conducted any
investigation, the public is yet to be informed of the findings, but the oil
companies stepped up their onslaught to frustrate the passage of the PIB, which
remains with the lawmakers almost three years after it was submitted.

There were other issues that were never quite resolved under Yar’Adua. For
instance, the appointments, by the president, of Mohammed Barkindo as NNPC
Group managing director and Omorogbe as secretary and legal adviser were at
the instance of Lukman and principally because of the reform. But the moment
they got to NNPC, Barkindo and Omorogbe could not agree on the content of
the PIB, especially after the former was believed to have redrafted the bill in
such a manner as to give tremendous power to NNPC while blunting the roles of
the new institutions to be created, in clear contravention of the stated objectives
of the reforms. This led to a multiplicity of bills, and Omorogbe sent a protest
letter to Lukman, while Ajumogobia also raised the issue.

Notwithstanding, the scaremongering tactics adopted by the IOCs have obscured

from many Nigerians the real benefits of the PIB, which is designed to unleash
the capacity of the nation in the oil and gas sector while one of the multiplier
effects of its implementation would be employment generation. Again, with the
prospect of stopping cash call payments to the IOCs and raising money from
international finance markets to fund joint venture projects, the president
believed that would also deepen our capital market, where no oil company is as
yet being quoted. Passage of the PIB (as originally conceived) would also ensure
that with the gas sector that is just being developed, the nation does not commit
the same mistake it made with crude oil.

But beyond all these was a decision to free resources for the social sector. “Part
of the reasons why we are restructuring our oil sector is to free the resources that
we pay the oil companies under joint venture agreements for critical areas like
power, education and health,” the president said at a meeting with
representatives of the organized private sector in Abuja in November 2007.
While the IOCs continued to make overt and coverts moves to subvert the
passage of the PIB, they also took keen interest in the surreptitious moves by the
Russian and Chinese governments to make a dramatic entry into the Nigerian oil
and gas industry: a deliberate bogey Yar’Adua encouraged to get the IOCs to
show more sensitivity to Nigeria’s national interest.

It was at the margin of the 33rd G8 summit in Germany7 in June 2007 that the
then Russian president, Mr. Vladimir Putin, had a brief chat with Yar’Adua. He
bluntly told the president that Nigerian officials were denying a level playing
field to Gazprom8, which was having difficulties gaining entrance into the
nation’s oil and gas industry.

Putin told the president he had information that Nigerian government officials, in
collaboration with Shell, were deliberately making it impossible for Russian and
Chinese IOCs to operate in the country. This was a serious allegation that could
not be taken lightly.

Upon return from the summit, the president directed Tanimu to monitor and
provide him with feedback on NNPC’s proposed partnership with Gazprom until
appropriate protocols were signed. He detailed Egbogah with the responsibility
of assessing the Chinese interest. The president felt that Nigeria needed the
competition between the pre-existing IOCs, of which Shell was the primus inter
pares, and the Chinese and Russian IOCs then prospecting Nigeria. His reasons
were that if the new global players were allowed to participate in fresh bid
rounds, especially on long term leases held by Shell that were about to expire,
the IOC’s would be compelled to up their bids. While he never contemplated
replacing western IOCs with Russian and Chinese competitors, he believed that
the new entrants could be used as a bait to extract value and concessions from
the reluctant western IOCs on the many fronts on which he thought they could
do better for the nation.

The story of the Chinese interest in the oil and gas sector began in November
2007 when a Chinese consortium, led by CNOOC Africa Ltd. made a proposal
to the president, expressing its desire to acquire a large number of oil and gas
assets estimated to contain six billion barrels of oil reserves. With a proposed
offer of $50 billion in what they described as ‘alternative funding for
infrastructural development in Nigeria’, it was very difficult to resist.

To the president, who was intent on bridging Nigeria’s infrastructural gap, this
was a huge sum that could help, especially in developing the gas sector, which
held huge prospect for the power and the transport sectors. It was, however, not
until he returned from his state visit to China in February 2008 that he directed
Lukman to explore the idea proposed by the Chinese consortium.

Lukman would later constitute a committee to examine the Chinese proposal

when he assumed the office of petroleum minister. That committee was chaired
by Egbogah.

Other members included Dr. Mohammed Ibrahim, from the office of the minister
of petroleum; Dr. Tim Okon from the office of the GMD of NNPC; Eng. M. K.
Amate, director of Planning and Statistics, office of the permanent secretary,
Department of Petroleum Resources; and Mr. A. J. Ibikunle of the Department of
Petroleum Resources.

Others were Mr. Victor Briggs, National Petroleum Investment Services

(NAPIMS), and Mrs. Grace Taiga, legal director, Ministry of Petroleum
Resources.

The mandate of the committee, as spelt out by Lukman, included confirming and
ascertaining the availability of uncommitted reserves between two to three
billion barrels and undertaking negotiations with the Chinese consortium made
up of CNOOC Africa Ltd., Sinohydro Corporation and China State Construction
Company over possible sale.

They were also to determine the appropriate legal and commercial framework
for this transaction if it was found to be worthy of consideration. In the first
proposal made to government by the Sunrise Consortium chairman, Mr. Lap Yen
Young, the company was ready to pay $25 billion for the six billion oil reserves
after which it would further invest another $25 billion “in the execution of
economically viable infrastructural projects in Nigeria.”

Some of the projects identified by the company included the Mambilla and
Zungeru hydropower projects; 300,000 barrel-per-day export refinery in Lagos;
100,000 barrel-per-day refinery in Calabar and Katsina; construction of an
800,000 metric ton-per-day compound fertilizer in Sokoto; concession and
construction of five super highways across the country to include Abuja to Kano,
Lagos to Badagry; and coastal highways from Calabar to Lagos and Maiduguri
to Kebbi.

They also proposed the execution of the Nigerian gas master plan with $3 billion
provision for gas gathering as well as the Lagos-Kano rail project. These were
enticing propositions to the president.

The identified oil fields were OML 67, 68, and 70, for which they offered farm-
in fees of $5 per barrel for 3 billion barrels; $2 per barrel for 49 percent interest
in OML 11 and 13

and $3 per barrel for 49 percent in OML 71, 72, 74, 77, 79, 83, 85, 86, 88, 90,
91, 95, 116, 118, 127, 133, 140, and 326. At a time when the oil companies were
already kicking against the PIB, it was evident they took a lot of interest in the
negotiations with the Chinese consortium, especially with regard to the
availability of the identified fields, some of which were then under litigation.

The first task undertaken by the government was to ascertain the volume of oil
and gas in the reserves under consideration. The NNPC data and records
revealed that they contained about 11.562 billion barrels of oil and 1.082 billion
barrels of condensate, which meant that the offer made by the Chinese
consortium would then make it technically an offer of $1.8 per barrel of oil
equivalent. Of course, the Chinese negotiators kept dangling the carrot of their
“investible funds” in infrastructural projects, which, given the situation in the
country, was rather tempting. But with negotiations in the hands of technical
people and not politicians, the Chinese did not make any headway in that
direction as the Egbogah committee decided on examining the offer using
market benchmarks.

To the government, the absurdity of this proposition is self-evident: Whereas the

consortium calculated the volumes in the oil fields it was bidding for as six
billion barrels of reserves, it was obvious that they deliberately left out gas and
condensate in their analysis. The major factor cited by the Chinese consortium
for their valuation was the element of risk associated with the transaction given
the prevailing volatility of the Niger Delta. But the government was of the view
that the reward far outweighed the risk.

Even while tempted by the offer of developing critical infrastructure—one of the

main items in Yar’Adua’s seven-point agenda—the considered wisdom within
government was that the Chinese offer was far too low, and from the outset,
Lukman was dismissive of their proposal. But the president wanted it explored
to its limits. On three different occasions, the Chinese indeed improved on their
offer, but they were nonetheless rejected because the negotiating team was
directed that there be no trade-offs on infrastructure and downstream
commitments.

Four offers later from the Chinese consortium, the answer remained the same: no
deal.

The government now made a counter offer shaped by the fact that prevailing
market conditions around the world indicated that major resource holders were
not selling equity barrels. The reasoning was that at a time when the government
was working towards Incorporated Joint Ventures under the PIB, the implication
of selling equity barrels would be that they could confer the full potential
reserves in a block without being constrained by price. This, it was felt, would
not be in the interest of Nigeria. After weighing the Chinese offer against the
price per barrel being paid by other operators in some OMLs, the government
came to the conclusion that, even with all the enticing promises about investible
funds, the Chinese proposition was out of the question.

Interestingly, while these negotiations were ongoing, it was obvious that the
local promoters of the Chinese deal did not want to leave matters in the hands of
the professionals. Political lobbyists of different hues were deployed to meet
with the president on the need to allow the transaction to work. There was also
pressure on Lukman; minister of state for petroleum, Mr. Odein Ajumogobia;
and Egbogah. The carrot was always the ‘investible funds for infrastructure’,
especially in refineries, since Labour had made the building of local refineries a
precondition for supporting the deregulation of the downstream sector of the
petroleum industry.

There were several other approaches made to the president by politicians and top
government officials who spoke of a possible ‘political donation’ running into
hundreds of millions of dollars. I could not, however, ascertain whether these
emissaries were working at the behest of the consortium or whether they were
just political undertakers who were working alone, but there was enormous
pressure on the president to take the negotiation away from the technocrats and
domicile it in the hands of a team comprising

‘trusted’ politicians and officials, including those known to have the president’s
ears. He rebuffed all the entreaties.

There is no doubt that the president was interested in working with the Chinese
because of the pledged investment in infrastructure, yet he believed that given
the technical intricacies of the oil industry, the negotiations were better handled
by professionals. He was also not interested in any under-the-table party
‘donation’ that would compromise him and effectively shortchange the nation.

Given that Lukman had from the outset been somewhat disinterested, he drove a
hard bargain, and with the president refusing to take the negotiation away from
his ministry, the Chinese offer looked every inch a doomed venture. By
September 2009, the federal government had concluded that it was better to
renew the lease agreements with the previous operators who were then requested
to make certain payments. With that, it became obvious to the Chinese that they
were losing out and, eager to turn the situation around, they decided to give the
deal another shot.

Unfortunately, by the time they came round to making a fresh offer to the
government, the president was already on his sick bed in Saudi Arabia. The last
offer from the Chinese was for 30 per cent equity interest in the NNPC-MPN
(Mobil Producing Nigeria) Joint Venture, with a bid of $4.85 billion, since MPN
had paid $600 million for 30 percent and NNPC was expected to pay $900
million for 40 percent. They also offered a bid for 30

percent equity interest in the NNPC-SPDC Joint Venture, for which they were
prepared to pay $US14.715 billion, with SPDC holding 30 percent and NNPC 40
percent. The last was for 30 percent equity interest in the NNPC-CNL (Chevron
Nigerial Limited) Joint Venture, for which they offered $2.25 billion, with CNL
holding 30 percent and NNPC

40 percent. For the uncommitted OML 139, they offered $125 million.

In addition to these proposed cash payments, they also offered to finance 50 per
cent of the cash call cost for exploration and production on behalf of NNPC in
the joint venture; finance 70 per cent ($8 billion) of the cost of the construction
of two new 300,000-barrel-per-day refineries in Lagos and Akwa Ibom on behalf
of NNPC and finance 70 per cent ($7 billion) of the cost of constructing
4000MW and 1000MW of hydropower in Mambilla and Zungeru.
Even if there were merits in these proposals, the Chinese had left it too late since
by then the president was in a Saudi Arabia hospital battling for his life. The
likely outcome of that offer in the event that the Chinese had made them much
earlier can only now be a matter for conjecture. But what was never in doubt was
that if the offer was right, the president was ready to do a deal with the Chinese,
even though this had political implications.

The United States government did not hide its displeasure about the possibility
of the involvement of the Chinese in the Nigerian oil industry. Coming after a
series of meetings with the Russian gas company, Gazprom, there was a feeling
that Nigeria ‘was going the wrong road’.

At an international session, a member of the United States Congress had

accosted the foreign affairs minister, Chief Ojo Maduekwe, asking in typical
American fashion, “Hey, why are you guys tending towards China?”

Maduekwe replied rather jocularly, “To make America jealous.” Laughing, the
congressman replied, “You bet it is working!” In spite of the foregoing hearty
exchange, the fact about all the dealings with China, which never really worked
out—either in the oil and gas industry or in the transport sector—remained that
the president had not acted with the intent to rile America or, for that matter, to
provoke diplomatic jealousy. He was also committed to the passage and
subsequent implementation of the PIB notwithstanding the opposition from the
IOCs.

What was important to President Yar’Adua was not so much how other countries
felt about the choices Nigeria was making as it was about whether those choices
were in the country’s interest.

Endnotes

1 Founded in 1953, Petrobras is regarded as the largest company in South

America by revenue and market capitalization with output of more than 2
million barrels of oil equivalent per day. The company also owns oil refineries
and oil tankers and is a world leader in development of advanced technology
from deep-water and ultra-deep water oil production.

2 Dr Rilwan Lukman held several ministerial positions (Mines and Power,

Petroleum) under the military regime of General Ibrahim Babangida in the
eighties and early nineties before becoming the secretary general of the
Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries (OPEC) from 1 January 1995 to
31 December 2000. After initially serving as honorary adviser on energy,
Lukman was eventually appointed minister of petroleum resources by Yar’Adua.

3 The Shell CEO remark on Nigeria at the Investors Forum in London:

“Regarding Nigeria, I’m pleased that after a sustained difficult security period,
we are seeing an improvement wherever there is concerted federal and state
attention. Of course, the implications for our people and assets are my prime
concern. But as a result, we are also regaining some shut-in production. When I
met the President 10 days ago, we moved closer to establishing some sustainable
funding solutions—and agreed [on] the basic principles and terms which we
hope will unlock some of the key projects that have been suspended for the last
year. This is also important for restarting suspended projects that harness gas
going to flare. The President told me he is committed to ending continuous
flaring but recognized that more detailed work has to be done by government
with the industry to agree [on] a practical timetable and deadline recognizing
current industry realities. I’m delighted that the President has given his personal
backing to this approach and re-confirms our commitment to work with
government on this important issue.” 4 In November 2010, Wikileaks began
publishing 251,287 leaked United States embassy cables, which provide insight
into how American diplomats see officials in their host countries and one of such
from Nigeria details the activities of Shell in Nigeria’s domestic affairs as
captured by American embassy officials.

5 Meurs is a national of The Netherlands, the home country of Shell.

6 Egbogah spoke to a Punch correspondent at an oil and gas conference in

Houston, Texas, and the interview was published by the newspaper on
November 17, 2009.

7 The 33rd G8 summit to which President Yar’Adua, along with four other
African leaders, was invited took place at Kempinski Grand Hotel,
Heiligendamm, Germany.

8 Gazprom is the Russian state oil and gas company. It is regarded as the largest
extractor of natural gas in the world.


The Niger Delta Amnesty Deal

Resolving the Niger Delta problem was a cardinal part of President Yar’Adua’s
seven-point agenda. It was a challenge that the president had devoted
considerable time contemplating, so it wasn’t long before he came up with what,
essentially, were his convictions about turning the grim situation around. There
were, for instance, two issues peculiar to the region that he felt could only be
tackled together: the challenge of development following decades of neglect and
the burgeoning rate of criminality characterized by the spate of kidnappings and
violence.

The trend had an even greater significance when viewed against the background
that most of the federal government contractors mobilized to sites in the region
had abandoned their projects, and the cost of initiating new ones (which also
stood the risk of being abandoned) was thrice what the original cost would have
been. Under that atmosphere, going forward required meaningful dialogue with
all the stakeholders.

The president had promised to hold a Niger Delta summit within his first 100
days in office; the intention was to use the session to achieve two goals: to
emphasize his and the federal government’s commitment to a new path that
would address both the developmental and environmental challenges, and also to
secure the firm commitment of other stakeholders in the Niger Delta.

As a prelude to the summit, the president set up two committees. The first one,
which he personally headed, engaged the governors from the region to examine
the 15-year Niger Delta Development Master Plan as developed by Niger Delta
Development Commission (NDDC), with the aim of working out details of the
implementation plan and timelines.

The task of the second committee, headed by the VP, was to collate all previous
attempts and reports; engage all the stakeholders, including the militants and
elders in the region; work out the modalities for the conference and establish the
parameters for the discourse.
To kickstart the process, the VP visited the creeks, held meetings with militant
leaders and other stakeholders while the president met with the Niger Delta
governors to share with them his thoughts on the way forward. As he had
envisioned, the region could be transformed through a faithful implementation of
the Niger Delta Development Master Plan if all the stakeholders agreed to
collaborate through the adoption of a three-pronged approach: Acceptance by the
oil-producing states to use their 13 per cent derivation fund for capital projects
only; additional injection of development funds by the federal government for
critical infrastructure and full implementation of the NDDC Act in relation, but
not limited, to funding.

The president made it clear from the outset that he preferred a new outlook that
downplayed constitutional issues in favour of well thought-out processes in
which the idea of a summit was one part of the entire inventory. He was
convinced that the peaceful resolution of the Niger Delta crisis could only be a
process and not an event and that it should transcend the familiar route of
endless debate on ‘resource control’. To him, it was better that concrete steps
were taken towards the development of the region.

The meeting was attended by all the governors and the NDDC managing
director, Mr.

Timi Alaibe, who took participants through a PowerPoint presentation of the

NDDC

master plan, which they all accepted as a realistic platform capable of

transforming the region if there was faithful implementation.

Violence in the region, however, continued unabated, and a few days after the
meeting, the president was informed of the arrest in Angola of Mr. Henry Okah,
believed to be the leader of the Movement for the Emancipation of the Niger
Delta (MEND). At the time of his arrest, Okah was already on the security
agencies’ wanted list following his alleged involvement in massive theft of arms
and ammunitions from the Nigerian Army, whose officers were eager to
apprehend him.

Okah had been implicated by the report of the Board of Inquiry convened by
then chief of army staff, the late Lt. Gen Luka Yusuf, to investigate the huge
theft of arms at 1 Base Ordnance Depot, in Kaduna (1 BODK). The report had
detailed how arms and ammunitions belonging to the Nigerian Army were sold
to some Niger Delta militants, with the name of Henry Okah and that of his
brother, Charles, featuring prominently.

The investigation was itself spawned by allegations that an arms syndicate,

which involved some officers of the Nigerian Army, soldiers and civilian
collaborators, had been breaking into the arms sheds in 1 BODK, the Ordnance
Sub Depot (OSD) in Jaji and the Ordnance Field Park (OFP) in Calabar to steal
weapons. With several officers arrested, the investigating team discovered that
the syndicate actually began operations in 1999 with the delivery of nine rifles of
different makes to Henry Okah’s younger brother, Sunny Bowei Okah. The
supplier was the son of a retired major whose last unit before retirement was 1
BODK, where he was quartermaster. This retired major was the conduit for the
initial set of weapons sold to people who were stoking the Niger Delta crisis.

In the report presented to Yar’Adua, the army said the extent of the theft was so
staggering and the crime so well organized that the investigating team could
hardly determine the exact amount of arms removed due to deliberate false
accounting and destruction of stock cards by the perpetrators. But the army chief
noted that the arms and ammunition removed included GPMGs, Sterling SMG,
Bren LNG, AK 47 rifles, Uzis, FNs, 3G, Cetme, M12 She Berettas, grenades,
rocket launchers, and several fragmentation jackets. Instructively, he said all the
new UMGs, as well as the used but serviceable GPMGs, RPG 7 and AK 47
rifles were stolen.

Three former governors of Niger Delta states were named as those who provided
money to the militants and Mr. Henry Okah for the purchase of the weapons in
2002. “The procurement of the weapons was linked to the mentioned governors’
preparation for the 2003 re-election campaign,” the army report said.

The major, earlier identified as kingpin of the shady deals, confessed to starting
the business in 2000 with Bowei Okah, who paid an amount considered
“significantly out of proportion with the value of the empty magazine” he was
supplied, apparently to lure the major in. That ploy worked remarkably. After
that, the major started delivering arms, at first using the boot of his car, to Okah.
As he became emboldened and more prosperous, the major started transporting
the stolen arms in a Toyota Dyna half truck. By 2004, he had graduated to using
Gully–Suckers (sewage trucks), which had the capacity to carry about 1,200
weapons, to cart away the arms. The major and his accomplices also introduced
a seedy system that entailed daubing the body of the truck with human waste to
ward off security men who might want to examine it out of curiosity or
suspicion.

With Okah as the sole customer, the report concluded that “some of the soldiers
involved in the theft of weapons actually escorted the stolen arms in uniform to
their destination in Niger Delta.”

The investigation also revealed that all the arms that were exchanged for billions
of naira during the 2005 cash-for-arms deal with the Niger Delta militants in one
particular state in the region were stolen from the Nigerian Army. “Henry Okah
was the main source of the over 2000 G3 rifles, 600 AK 47s and about 40
GPMGs and 2 rocket launchers that were returned to the River State government
for this exercise. In fact, Sonnie Bowei Okah admitted that he moved 1,800 G3
rifles from the OSD for this exchange….The presidency, the SSS and the
military have been seriously infiltrated by the militants of Niger Delta. This is a
fact gathered from Sunny Bowei Okah and other civilian suspects....”

With this report, the security agencies mounted pressure on Yar’Adua to move
for the extradition of Okah to Nigeria so he could face charges, especially since
his military accomplices were already being court-martialled with Brigadier
Gen. Bala Usara presiding over the prosecution for which some men and officers
of the army would later bag life sentences.1 But because Nigeria had no
extradition treaty with Angola, this became a problem.

On November 18, 2007, an opportunity was presented in the course of a bilateral

meeting between Yar’Adua and President José Eduardo dos Santos of Angola at
the margin of the 3rd OPEC Conference in Saudi Arabia. Quite naturally, the
issue of Okah came up, and the Angolan president listed a litany of allegations
against those he described as

‘criminals operating from the Nigerian Delta creeks’, whom he said were
infiltrating his country and carrying out arms deals. He mentioned Henry Okah
as the leader of this group. When Yar’Adua informed Santos that Nigeria also
needed Okah to come home to face charges, he made a commitment that the two
countries could collaborate through their respective offices of the attorney
general and justice minister.
Okah’s name echoed again at the margin of the African Union Summit in Addis
Ababa, Ethiopia, two months later in January 2008, when the president of
Equatorial Guinea, Mr.

Teodoro Obiang Nguema Mbasogo, also recounted how Niger Delta militants
had become a menace to his country. He narrated a story of two incidents where
they had stormed Malabo in speed boats, and the only name he could mention in
connection with these incidents was that of Henry Okah. Apparently afraid that
the incursion of Niger Delta militants could spell doom for his dictatorship2,
Mbasogo, whose family controls the nation’s petrodollars, said he had been
making overtures to the Angolan authorities to have Okah brought to his country
to face criminal prosecution.

At that point, Yar’Adua knew he had to intensify efforts on the Okah matter with
the national security adviser (NSA), Major General Sarki Mouktah (rtd.),
directed to represent the federal government in the negotiations with the
Angolan authorities.

Following a series of meetings in Luanda by the NSA and his team, Okah was
repatriated to Nigeria on February 10, 2008, and handed over to the military for
safe custody.

After a few weeks in detention, a 62-count charge of treason, terrorism,

kidnapping, illegal importation of arms and ammunition, illegal trafficking in
arms and ammunition, illegal possession and storage of prohibited goods,
management of unlawful society, incitement of soldiers to commit traitorous
acts, and so on were proffered against Okah.

He was charged before a federal high court sitting in Jos, Plateau State.

The first drama in the trial, however, began when his lawyer, human rights
attorney, Mr.

Femi Falana, requested Justice Stephen Ada to take his hands off the Okah case
on the strength of the controversial ruling by the court of appeal in Kaduna,
which quashed the corruption trial of Chief James Ibori, former governor of
Delta State before a federal high court in Kaduna.

That decision had set a template for a series of controversial actions at the centre
of which was the AGF. The kernel of the matter was that the court of appeal had
ruled that since there were no elements of crime committed by Ibori in Kaduna,
the federal high court located in the city did not have the jurisdiction to try him
and thus asked the chief judge of the federal high court to reassign Ibori’s case to
the Benin division.

It was after this judgement that a special court was created in Asaba, the Delta
State capital, with a predictable outcome. But this played into the hands of
Falana, who applied to the chief judge of the federal high court to advise the
judge in Okah’s case to return his file for proper reassignment to where Okah
allegedly committed the numerous crimes listed against him by the federal
government. The location, according to Falana, should be Yenegoa division of
Bayelsa State.

Although Falana’s plea was not granted, it nonetheless caused the trial judge to
excuse himself. Citing the need to avoid ‘bias’ in the trial, Justice Ada explained
that the Court of Appeal’s contention in Ibori’s case, which the federal
government did not appeal, meant that since Okah did not commit any of the 62
charges brought against him within the Jos division, he could not be tried there
either.

In recusing himself from the case, Justice Ada further stated that public
perception would ridicule the integrity of the court since the attorney general of
the federation, Michael Aondoakaa, was already accused of manipulating the
jurisdiction of the court in earlier pleadings by Okah’s lawyers.

The case was reassigned to Justice Liman following the withdrawal of Justice
Adah.

After extensive consultations with senior lawyers, the attorney general decided
to withdraw 59 of the 62-count charge. The offences of conspiracy, treason and
treasonable felony, which the government felt could be prosecuted in any part of
Nigeria, were to be pursued to conclusion. While welcoming the withdrawal of
most of the charges, Falana raised another objection on the ground that the case
was statute barred.

While relying on section 243 of the Criminal Procedure Act, Falana argued that
since the treason charge was not filed within three years, his client could not be
tried under the circumstances. This effectively stalled Okah’s trial, and after
some weeks, there were claims by MEND that he had been killed in detention.
This led to an escalation of violence in the Niger Delta, despite assurances from
the government that Okah was “alive and in safe custody.”

Notwithstanding, efforts were nonetheless being made towards the convocation

of the Niger Delta Summit. The VP was coordinating this, and Professor Ibrahim
Gambari had already been nominated as chairman of the steering committee of
the Niger Delta Stakeholders’ Summit. This choice did not go down well with
several people in the Niger Delta and the civil society. There were recollections
that Gambari was Nigeria’s permanent representative to the United Nations
when Ken Saro-Wiwa was hanged and that he had rationalized the action of the
then military government. With the media and civil society opposed to
Gambari’s involvement, the summit had already run into a storm even before it
commenced.

Apart from this, there were some simmering internal problems. There was a mild
drama on the day the VP presented his report. Gambari was in the country to
deliver a message from the UN secretary general to the president, and the VP
asked Gambari to join the meeting.

The PowerPoint presentation was done by an aide to the VP, Sullivan

Akachukwu, but as he delved into the problem in the Niger Delta and made
government commitments with regard to constitutional issues, the president
shouted, “Are you a member of MEND?

This is a MEND report. You must be a member of MEND.” Obviously flustered,

Akachukwu explained his home state was Anambra and not the Niger Delta. To
this, the president screamed again, “Then you must be working for MEND.” The
president’s anger was rather uncharacteristic. He was deeply upset with
Akachukwu, and I had to intervene on his behalf. “I know Akachukwu very
well, Sir. He is not from Niger Delta, but he is well respected by most of the
stakeholders in the region and understands the issues.” Akachukwu would later
thank me for my intervention, but the NSA took off from where the president left
it in attacking the report.

To compound the situation, in bringing an expert opinion into the discussion,

Gambari said the presentation could only be one of the working documents that
would be examined along with others. He dissected the reports with a conclusion
that was evidently not too favourable to the VP, who later shifted his position on
the choice of Gambari for the job.
With Labour also lending its voice against the choice of Gambari, and the
personality of the summit’s chair threatening to overshadow the real issues, I
suggested to Mr. Tunji Lardner3 that it was better for Gambari to throw in the
towel, because I didn’t see how he could continue in the face of relentless
opposition from several quarters, most of which were central to the resolution of
the crisis in the region.

When I discussed this with the president on July 6, 2008, in Hokkaido, Japan,
where we were attending the Summit of the Group of Eight Industrialized
Nations (G-8), he rebuffed my suggestion that he should consider replacing
Gambari with someone else.

His argument was that a leader should not always wither in the face of dissent,
especially when convinced of the rightness of his action. He said that I was
aware that at his meeting with Ban Ki-moon in Davos earlier that year, he had
requested for Gambari’s secondment along with some UN staff members. The
Niger Delta crisis, according to the president, was not, as being appropriated, ‘a
Niger Delta issue’. It was rather a national challenge with serious national
security implications. From his tone, he saw the issue of Gambari as a personal
challenge, so I didn’t argue further.

There was, however, no doubt about his commitment to resolving the issue,
since he used every international forum to campaign for support both in dealing
with the developmental challenge and also in rooting out the criminal aspect. At
the G-8 summit, he held separate talks with the Japanese prime minister, Mr.
Yasuo Fukuda, and the president of the World Bank, Mr. Robert B. Zoellick on
the need for the international community to take urgent action to clamp down on
the illicit trade in stolen crude oil which, he argued, ought to be treated globally
in the same manner as stolen diamonds. “I appeal to you and through you to all
other G-8 leaders to support my new proposal, which I will also discuss with the
UN secretary general at my meeting with him, that stolen crude should be treated
like stolen diamonds because they both generate blood money. Like what is now
known as ‘blood diamonds’, stolen crude also aids corruption and violence and
can provoke war,” the president told the Japanese prime minister.

The president had been dealing with the international aspect of the Niger Delta
crisis, especially with regard to the activities of some Ukrainian criminal cartels.
Even though Ukraine does not manufacture small arms, it is internationally
reputed for illicit deals in such weapons, essentially because of the way the
country managed the huge stockpiles of arms inherited from the former Soviet
Union. By the time Yar’Adua came to office, there was evidence that the Niger
Delta region had become one of the prime destinations for the Ukrainian
criminal networks. For instance, sometime early in 2008, there was a security
report to the president that a ship carrying arms meant for the Niger Delta had
been spotted around some ports in Spain. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs was
alerted, and the Spanish embassy in Nigeria was brought into the picture. The
ship was eventually intercepted by the Spanish authorities, so it never reached its
Niger Delta destination, but that would not be the first or last such expedition.

On our return from Japan, we found that the outrage that had trailed the
appointment of Gambari still lingered. The VP had also withdrawn his support at
that point because, as he told me when I met with him on the issue, under the
prevailing circumstances, it would be difficult for Gambari to midwife the Niger
Delta summit.

I personally had to intervene by sending a mail to nudge Gambari to turn down

the offer, especially when I saw that the president had taken the issue personally.
What riled the president was the ethnic slant being given the choice of Gambari
when the compelling argument for the choice had been that the summit needed a
professional who had experience in such matters.

It was amid this acrimonious situation that Gambari wrote the president to notify
him of his intention to turn down the offer. Once that dust settled, the VP came
up with the Niger Delta Technical Committee, which was eventually chaired by
Mr. Ledum Mitee.

Although he did not voice his opinion publicly, the president was deeply hurt
about the way Gambari was forced out of the Niger Delta summit on ethnic
grounds.

He also believed the idea of the Niger Delta Summit had been defeated with the
composition of a technical committee comprising only people from the region.
His idea of a Niger Delta Summit was a pan-Nigerian one in which the neglect
of the region would be discussed by representatives drawn from all over the
country and across a wide spectrum of stakeholders so that the decisions taken
could enjoy national acceptance. To him, it was simply not about Niger Delta
indigenes holding discussions amongst themselves, which was what the Niger
Delta Technical Committee had become.
Another issue that the president found unacceptable was that the appointing
authority of a committee set up by the government could ask members to pick
their own chairman. For these reasons, Yar’Adua was very ambivalent from the
outset about the technical committee, which was inaugurated by the VP on
September 8, 2008, with the following terms of reference:

• to collate, review and distil the various reports, suggestions and

recommendations on the Niger Delta from the Willinks Commission Report
(1958) to the present and give a summary of the recommendations necessary for
government action;

• to appraise the summary recommendations and present a detailed short-,

medium-, and long-term suggestion for the challenges in the Niger Delta; and

• to make and present to government any other recommendations that will help
the federal government achieve sustainable development, peace, human and
environmental security in the Niger Delta.

At the end of their sessions, the committee recommended, among other things,
the immediate increase of the allocation accruing from oil and gas revenues to
the Niger Delta to 25 per cent (i.e., an additional 12 per cent) within a
framework in which the additional funds are dedicated largely to new
infrastructure and sustainable development of the region. They also
recommended that within six months steps should be taken that will support a
disarming process for those involved in militancy with a view to an eventual
negotiated release of Henry Okah. The federal government was also urged to
create credible conditions for amnesty by setting up a Demobilisation,
Disarmament and Rehabilitation Commission with a negotiated undertaking by
militant groups to stop all kidnappings, hostage taking and attacks on oil
installations.

Even while the president may not have agreed with the principle behind the
committee, he saw merits in some of its proposals. In fact, the only areas he
queried were those that required legislations or constitutional amendments. But
he believed that if a successful amnesty deal could be struck that would
culminate in the militants laying down their arms and paving the way for an
enduring peace in the Niger Delta, then the constitutional areas may be open for
discussion at a later date. It was at this point that the idea of amnesty for Niger
Delta militants began to crystalize.

The initial preparations were done by the NSA who co-opted the service chiefs
into the committee as they worked out the plans and logistics towards the entire
process. Since the NSA thought that the criminal dimension to the Niger Delta
crisis would make the amnesty unworkable, he also fashioned out a Plan B in the
event that the amnesty failed.

He made it very clear from the outset that Henry Okah’s case had an
unquestionable criminal motive with serious implications for national security
and should therefore not be part of the amnesty deal. Adopting a similar
position, the armed forces also believed that Tompolo, whom the JTF had
declared wanted, also had to account for 13 of their officers and men.

These were the initial misgivings that the president had to resolve, because it
was very clear that if Okah and Tompolo were excluded, then the amnesty would
be dead on arrival. But I also understood the dilemma. With the information at
his disposal concerning the charges against the duo, the president needed to have
some confidence-building sessions with the service chiefs who eventually
budged on the issue of amnesty for Tompolo. What made the situation even
more complicated with regard to Henry Okah was that the president himself had
made a commitment to the presidents of Angola and Equatorial Guinea that he
was bringing Okah home for trial. But for the amnesty process not to be derailed,
a compromise had to be reached: Okah would benefit.

But then there was no guarantee that Okah would buy the idea. Since the case
against him had already been adjourned for ruling, the government reviewed the
matter and decided to withdraw the charge, provided he would agree to assist in
restoring peace to the Niger Delta. His lawyer, Falana, was contacted, and he
agreed to persuade Okah to cooperate with the government once there was a
serious commitment to address the issues that led to his agitation. At his request,
the federal government provided a plane that took him to Jos to consult with his
client, who agreed to the deal. It was at this stage that the criminal cases against
Okah and all other militants were amnestied and subsequently dismissed.

Since the amnesty was more a political than a military process, some of us
(presidential aides) felt it was better for the president to take the chairmanship
away from the NSA, a northerner, in order to prevent a repeat of a scenario
similar to the Gambari controversy.

Besides, we argued, it was better to have a southerner as the public face of the
amnesty.

The president found the advice convincing, so he appointed Godwin Abbe, who
had just been moved to the Ministry of Defence from the Ministry of Interior.

A retired major general and indigene of Niger Delta (Edo State) who had also
been military governor of old Rivers State (now Rivers and Bayelsa), Abbe
came to the job with an impeccable pedigree. He was to work with the chief of
defence staff, Air Marshall Paul Dike, a fine officer who also had the advantage
of coming from the Niger Delta. Both Abbe and Dike worked night and day to
prepare all the papers and map out the logistics for the amnesty process and the
necessary rehabilitation efforts. By the end of May, they were ready. In fact, the
initial plan was for the president to proclaim the amnesty on May 29, 2009, to
coincide with the second year anniversary of his government.

A few days before May 29, however, the president said he needed the support of
the Council of State, which comprises the president, VP and past heads of
government, governors and former chief justices. The session was held on June
25, and it lasted for over two hours. It was attended by Obasanjo, Gen. Yakubu
Gowon, Alhaji Shehu Shagari and Chief Ernest Shonekan. General Ibrahim
Babangida, who was then in the United States, nursing his late wife, Maryam,
could not attend. General Abdulsalami Abubakar was also absent because he
was on diplomatic assignment to Niger Republic at the instance of the president.
General Muhammadu Buhari stayed away without any excuse.

Thirty-two governors and three deputy governors (from Ekiti, Rivers and Cross
River states) attended the meeting, where Obasanjo said that the amnesty offer
was one of several gambles in the bid to resolve the Niger Delta crisis. He
recalled all the efforts he had made to proffer solutions, which didn’t work at the
end of the day, warning that it was better to hope for the best and prepare for the
worst, an advice the president took very seriously. Other leaders offered
suggestions and advice, but at the end, they all endorsed the amnesty deal.

Briefing State House correspondents after the meeting, Governors Timipre Sylva
(Bayelsa) Ikedi Ohakim (Imo) and Ali Modu Sherriff (Borno) disclosed that the
approval followed exhaustive deliberation and commendation for Yar’Adua in
adopting the approach. Sylva particularly noted that the amnesty was for those
whose angst was premised on issues, adding that genuine militants had
expressed willingness to accept the amnesty. After the window on the grace
period is shut, he warned, the government would consider any other violent
agitator a criminal.

Replying to a question on the attack on a Shell facility that had occurred the
previous day, the governor said he was not aware, but added, “We are talking
about two different groups here. We are talking about people who probably have
genuine issues and some criminals, and the essence of the amnesty is actually to
distinguish between the criminal elements and those who have genuine issues.
Those who are going to take advantage of the amnesty are only those who have
issues and who, of course, merit to be granted amnesty, so that at the end of the
time stipulated for the amnesty, every other person becomes a criminal.”

Two hours after the Council of State meeting, the president proclaimed amnesty
for repentant militants in the Niger Delta who unconditionally surrendered their
equipment, arms and ammunition and also renounced militancy . This, he
declared, would extend to all persons, including those being prosecuted for
offences associated with militant activities.

Citing Section 175 of the constitution of the Federal Republic of Nigeria, the
president, who said the militants and their leaders had until October 4, 2009, to
renounce militancy, declared, “I hereby grant amnesty and unconditional pardon
to all persons who have directly or indirectly participated in the commission of
offences associated with militant activities in the Niger Delta.”

But the pardon, he added, would take effect only upon the surrender and handing
over of all equipment, weapons, arms and ammunition and execution of the
“renunciation of militancy forms specified in the schedule hereto, by the affected
persons at the nearest collection centre established for the purpose of
government in each of the Niger Delta states.”

The proclamation elicited cautious optimism at the early stage, as General Abbe
made it very clear that government would not pay anybody who surrendered
arms. This came against the backdrop of campaigns that some militant leaders
were willing to embrace the deal if they were paid for the arms surrendered. The
president had resolved that the only
“payment” that would be made to any militant who surrendered was that he or
she would not be prosecuted for whatever crimes he might have committed in
the course of the

‘struggle’.

The seeming indifference was shattered, however, when 65 ex-militants

surrendered over 10,204 rounds of ammunitions, over 50 AK 47 rifles, and four
other rifles. On hand to receive them were Azubuko Udah, assistant inspector
general of police (AIG) zone 6; Timiebi Koripamo-Agari, media coordinator of
the Presidential Amnesty Implementation Committee; and Bala Hassan, Rivers
State commissioner of police.

The first group, led by Solomon Ndigbera, alias Osama Bin Laden, arrived at the
Government Girls Secondary School, Ogoloma in Okrika in a police Unimock
truck, while the second group, led by Wisdom Okorosa, erstwhile second in
command to Asari Dokubo, leader of the Niger Delta Peoples Volunteer Force
(NDPVF), arrived in two coaster buses, all carrying arms.

But as the momentum gathered, the six Niger Delta governors took a step that
nearly derailed the amnesty programme. After a meeting in Asaba, Delta State,
on July 23, under the aegis of the South-South Governors’ Forum, they
addressed the media, opposing the reported movement of the proposed
University of Petroleum from Effurun, Delta State, to Kaduna State. They also
accused the minister of petroleum resources, Dr.

Rilwanu Lukman (who incidentally hails from Kaduna State) as having a

sentiment that ran contrary to the interest of the Niger Delta people. Claiming
that the federal government did not have any concrete post-amnesty plan on the
ground, the governors threatened to withdraw from the process.

This was a political bombshell, which suited those opposed to the amnesty idea,
and the president felt very disturbed, but following my extensive discussions
with four of the governors, during which I was able to glean four grievances that
inspired their action, I reported my findings to the president.

The principal secretary, Edevbie, advised on the need to schedule a meeting with
them immediately, but the president was not disposed to the idea, arguing that
the governors had done their worst. We didn’t relent; we kept pushing. An
outline of the governors’
grievance includes the reported movement of the proposed University of
Petroleum in Effurum in Delta State to Kaduna; lack of a concrete post-amnesty
plan; the anti-Niger Delta posture of Lukman; and the alleged withdrawal of the
original Petroleum Industry Bill (PIB) by the NNPC and substitution with a new
one that removed five percent royalty to host community and 25 percent to the
states.

Lukman’s statement was indeed provocative, but the fact of the matter was that
the Federal Executive Council never took any decision for the relocation of the
Petroleum University from Effurum in Delta State to Kaduna. No such thing
happened. The memo taken on May 25, 2009, was for the award of contracts for
the National College of Petroleum Studies, Kaduna, which was established in
1995 by the NNPC “for the training of higher level technical and senior
management personnel who are transiting to general management level within
the corporation.”

The memo stated further, “The Petroleum Technology Development Fund

(PTDF), as an agency of government created for capacity building in the Oil and
Gas industry, was mandated through [a] letter of 2nd January, 2002, to take over
and establish a National College of Petroleum Studies in Kaduna, which will
serve the entire Oil and Gas industry and when established will be at par with
similar institutions in the world. Following the mandate given to PTDF, the Fund
commissioned a Joint Technical Committee with NNPC, which assessed the
present situation of the College and made recommendations for the way
forward.”

This decision actually predated Yar’Adua’s government. A programme of action

approved by Obasanjo on April 15, 2002, was for the upgrade of the Petroleum
Training Institute (PTI), Effurum; reactivation of the College of Petroleum
Studies, Kaduna; establishment of offshore Technology Development Centres;
upgrade of the curricula and facilities in universities and polytechnics relevant to
the PTDF mandate; capacity building and skill acquisition programmes; and the
endowment of petroleum technology related chairs in selected universities.

What some experts in the industry were canvassing was that the mandate of the
PTI in Effurun should remain because the interest of Niger Delta people would
be better served that way. Their position was that the objective of PTI is defeated
as long as technicians in the oil industry were still being brought from countries
like the Philippines, given that the institute was established to train low and
middle level officials in the industry.

From my interactions with the governors, it was very clear that what irked them
most was the way and manner Lukman had spoken to the media. Although I had
read a few extracts of what was reported, I went on to request for the tape, which
one of my staff then transcribed. After reading it, I knew the president had to
speak with the minister, because he was indeed provocative. I also printed the
full transcript of the minister’s comments.

Incidentally, I had been compelled to discuss the issue of Lukman’s choice of

words with the president several times in the past. In fact, the minister of state
for petroleum, Mr.

Odein Ajumogobia, once complained to me that Lukman always referred to

Niger Delta people as ‘those rascals’ even in his presence. This I had reported to
the president, who said he would caution the minister. I am not sure he did.

Lukman said in the interview under reference that Yar’Adua had since reversed
the decision taken by Obasanjo to upgrade the PTI Effurum to a university
status, arguing that it was unnecessary. This in itself was a complete
misrepresentation of Yar’Adua’s position, and was only worsened by the manner
in which Lukman spoke. He said, “Look, look, don’t give us that. Everybody
wants to obtain a university upgrade, it does not happen that way. The people
who run the economy of a country are not necessarily people with degrees from
universities. This is why we give emphasis to the PTI to train the people that we
need. The oil industries are suffering because we don’t have the right manpower,
and here you are talking about converting an institute which has been set up
precisely to train people that we need into a university that will train people that
we don’t need. I studied at the Federal College of Science and Technology in
London. It is the biggest training ground for mining and petroleum engineers, yet
there is not a drop of oil in London. So the question of the location of the
institution is not necessarily a coincidence with where oil resources are….”

Pragmatism prevailed eventually; the president met with the governors in what
started as a stormy affair. He almost walked out before he was persuaded to stay.
He expressed anger that chief executives of states would issue a sensitive
statement based on incorrect information, especially when they had the access to
clarify from him the correct position.
The meeting, however, ended on a convivial note as the governors resolved to
fully back the amnesty process. But the ugly side of the internal politics in Niger
Delta continued to play out in ways that were affecting the amnesty deals, and I
was to become a victim.

Earlier, on April 9, 2009, Yar’Adua, on the recommendation of the vice

president, dissolved the Board of the NDDC, and as a result, the managing
director, Mr. Timi Alaibe, lost his job. But because Alaibe was a prominent
person within the Niger Delta equation, the president appointed him an honorary
special adviser with a mandate to act as his representative on the amnesty issue.
While this was a strategic move designed to help in the coordination of the
amnesty process, it was not well received by the governor of Bayelsa, who
apparently saw Alaibe as a potential future gubernatorial opponent, who should
not be given any visible role.4

When the governor therefore came to my office on August 6, 2009, to inform me

that he would be leading some 32 repentant militant leaders, including the leader
of the Bayelsa faction of MEND, Ebikabowei Victor Ben (popularly known as
Boyloaf) to the presidential villa the next day, I was not enthusiastic. As he
sought my cooperation to make it a big media event, I told him I was not aware
of the event, because the president had not told me about it. (I was, of course,
aware, but the information I got was an unsettling one, and I had decided to meet
the president later that night to discuss the issue with him.)

When the governor saw that I appeared hostile towards him, he sought the
intervention of Edevbie, who called to find out what my misgivings were. What
the governor didn’t know was that I had information that Boyloaf was coming to
the villa not only to embrace the amnesty deal, but also to use the occasion to
discredit Alaibe, who would be described as the person funding militancy in the
Niger Delta.

I had no illusion that the accusation was for any altruistic cause other than the
fact of the political rivalry between Sylva and Alaibe. I believed that such an
open declaration would not help the amnesty process, but as it would happen, I
couldn’t see the president that night. It turned out to be fortuitous.

Early the next morning, I was roused by a call from Alaibe, who said The Sun
newspaper had published an interview with Boyloaf where he alleged that he
(Alaibe) was the one funding militancy. I immediately went online, downloaded
the story, wrote a memo to the president and rushed to the villa to give one of the
stewards to dispatch to his room, so he would read before coming down. Within
one hour, the president summoned a meeting of the VP, the NSA, General Abbe,
myself and Alaibe.

By that time, the governor, Boyloaf and other militant leaders had arrived at the
Banquet Hall in preparation for the ceremony scheduled for 10 a.m. At the
meeting, the president presented copies of the newspaper report that I had earlier
given him and said that in view of the implications of allowing such divisive
tendencies to be made manifest at the early stage of the process, he could no
longer receive the militants. He instructed Abbe to meet with the governor and
militants to inform them that he would meet with them after the disarmament
exercise.

Abbe asked me to accompany him to see the group, and I made a mistake of
acceding to the request. Before we got to the Banquet Hall, someone had alerted
the governor that the president had changed his mind about receiving the
militants and that I was the brain behind the decision. The moment the governor
sighted me, he charged at me. It took the intervention of the NSA and the DG of
SSS to separate the two of us.
There was pandemonium, and with Sylva arguing that if the militants went back,
he would not be held responsible for the consequences, the NSA, the defence
minister, and the DG of SSS had to go back to the president. Again, the president
sent for the VP, and the governor was invited for another round of meeting. This
time, I was excluded. It was at the second meeting that an agreement was
reached that the group would be received by the president. The governor was,
however, told to warn them against making any allegations against Alaibe.

President Yar’Adua received the militants after a three-hour delay, and noted
during the event that it was disheartening to see that such young, energetic,
intelligent Nigerians were spending their lives in the creeks, noting that it was
high time they were rehabilitated to live normal lives and have the same
opportunity as other people in the country. He said he proclaimed amnesty to
create an environment for peace and security in the Niger Delta states barring
which development would not be possible. “We have reached a situation, as you
know, where even contractors are afraid to take contracts and execute works in
the Niger Delta states. Throughout the world, peace, stability and security are
necessary conditions for development and prosperity, but we need this peace a
lot in the Niger Delta states,” he said.

In his response, Boyloaf remarked that they would take the president’s words as
a bond but added that if the promises were not kept, the consequences would be
catastrophic for the nation. “You are all aware of how we got to where we are
today in the Niger Delta.

Our people are hungry and dying, our infrastructure [is] in a deplorable state, our
communities have no water and light, while oil spillage and gas flaring have
become the order of the day. Yet, this is the same region that produces over 90
per cent of our national income; how then do we fold our arms and see the future
of our generations yet unborn crumble before our eyes?”

Following the visit by Boyloaf and his group, other militant leaders decided to
surrender their arms to embrace the amnesty. The first major breakthrough came
on August 13, 2009, when Soboma George, leader of the Iceland Group ,
accepted amnesty and surrendered his arms at the Rivers State office of the
Department of State Security Service (SSS), Port Harcourt. With about 400 of
his men, the weapons surrendered included several AK 47s, G3s, LARs, K2s,
Pump Actions, MGs, and assorted bullets.
Following on his example, other leaders, along with their fighters, came on
board and embraced the amnesty, turning in their arms.

One fact became evident through the arms surrender: all the militant camps were
regimented in nature, as they were actually run like military garrisons. The
‘soldiers’

were also paid monthly salaries ranging from N20,000 to N80,000 each.
Instructively, the leaders of all the groups had the title of either ‘commander’ or
‘general’, with their subordinates given lower military ranks depending on their
importance to the organization. The Seashore Freedom Fighters, however, had
two ‘generals’, with John Seibakumo as leader and Nabena Young as the
‘defence minister’.

The Gawei group operating from Obotobo in Delta State equally embraced the
amnesty along with the ‘men and officers’ of the ’12 Fighting Battalions’. Ditto
Tamunegiyeiofori Proby, aka Egbele and Ferdinand Amaibi, aka Busta Rhyme .
The group hitherto led by the late Daddy Ken (who had died in police detention)
operating from Odi in Bayelsa also decided to surrender, even though they
sought the intervention of the amnesty committee to secure the release of some
of their men then still in detention. The leader of the group called ‘Ugbeberi
Islanders’ in the Bayelsa creeks, was initially reluctant to embrace the amnesty,
claiming 40 of his men were wounded by JTF. But after meeting with Alaibe and
assurances of safety were given, he agreed to the deal.

The list of militant bigwigs who disarmed and embraced the amnesty
programme was further swelled by Kile Selky Torughedi, aka Young Shall Grow
. A prominent figure within MEND, Torughedi has a benevolent streak: he ran a
sort of NGO, whose projects comprised a primary school where no tuition was
paid, scholarship for indigent students and concessional grants to women. With
top guns like him leading his men to embrace the amnesty, next came Tompolo
and then Ateke Tom, and finally, Farah Dagogo, as the MEND operational
commanders surrendered one after the other.

Alaibe’s intervention was critical to the success of the amnesty programme

because he knew most of the militant leaders, and they respected him. But
notwithstanding the initial enthusiasm of the militants, doubts persisted about the
actual intention and sincerity of the government. Ateke Tom was particularly
uncomfortable that the amnesty notwithstanding, the governor of Rivers State,
Mr. Rotimi Amaechi, had placed a prize on his head, so he needed the assurance
of the president that he would be safe if he turned in his weapons.

At a meeting between the duo and the president, Amaechi recounted all the
atrocities he said Ateke Tom had committed in Rivers State. The governor,
however, concluded that if he (Ateke Tom) could assure the president that he
would not go back to his old ways, there would be no problem. The meeting
ended on a good note, and Ateke Tom, who came with his lawyer felt he could
accept the amnesty deal.

Amaechi’s tough stance had, however, contributed to the success of the amnesty,
because he opposed the idea from the beginning on grounds that the issue was
more of criminality than agitation, because, according to him, the real struggle
for ‘resource control’ had been hijacked. For that reason, he aligned with the JTF
to go after those who had made an industry of kidnapping for ransom. Again, as
he argued, it was illegal to grant amnesty without conviction and pardon can
only be granted to those who have legally been tried and found guilty. This led to
a series of meetings at the end of which the solicitor general of the federation
came up with the position that amnesty could indeed be granted without
conviction citing the case of the late American President Richard Nixon, who
was pardoned by his successor, President Gerald Ford, without standing trial
over the Watergate scandal that had led to his ouster from office.

Since the president had decided he would personally handle the amnesty issue,
he held several private meetings with leaders of the various camps in which he
assured them that anytime they wanted to see him, all they had to do was call his
ADC, and within 24 hours he would schedule an appointment. He was true to his
word, because at short notices, he had audiences with Tompolo and others, and
this helped as confidence-building measures.

When there was contention on the shape and size of the rehabilitation and
reintegration efforts that the government was providing and the militants wanted
to be certain that they would become truly and gainfully engaged once they left
the creeks, the president called an enlarged meeting of government and leaders
of the militants. The roll call included the coordinator of the Millennium
Development Goals (MDG); the group managing director of NNPC; executive
secretary of the PTDF; director general of the National Directorate of
Employment (NDE); director general of the Bureau for Public Procurement; and
the minister of finance. They became a standing committee with a mandate to
provide the necessary logistics for the resolution of the crisis.

While there were fears among the militant leaders that the actual struggle to
draw national and global attention to the plight of the deprived oil-bearing
communities could be undermined once they turned in their weapons, the
president was convinced that a lasting solution could be found. His optimism
was buoyed by the fact that the GMD of NNPC gave him daily reports of oil
sales, which pointed to the fact that with the amnesty, oil earnings had
substantially increased. So, even from an economic point of view, as the
president argued, it made sense to resolve the crisis. With this situation, the
president continued his informal meetings with selected leaders of militant
groups in Aso Rock to assure them that he was both committed to the amnesty
process and to the development of Niger Delta once there was peace.

To assuage the anxiety of the militant leaders about the JTF, the military was
directed to free several militants and their supporters who were in their custody.
On this score, Alaibe aided the release of the detained militants arrested in
connection with the killing of JTF troops on March 13, 2009, at Gbaramatu, the
ancestral home of Mr. Government Ekpemupolo, popularly known as Tompolo,
where he also domiciled his dreaded Camp Five. In the operation by the
militants, some foreigners were also kidnapped and several vessels destroyed.
Initially, the JTF had argued that the arrest of the men and their confessional
statements aided the recovery of the military’s lost weapons concealed in certain
locations, as well as the burial site of the soldiers killed.

Nonetheless, the JTF commander indicated that he was authorizing the release of
the militants in compliance with the president’s amnesty declaration.

The JTF also released four men who were arrested and detained in connection
with the armed attack on Agip Flow Station in Tibidaba on December 25, 2008.
The JTF

commander informed the committee that during the arrest of these militants,
several arms and ammunitions were recovered from them. These include
GPMGs, AK 47 rifles, locally made single barrel guns, AK 47 empty magazines
and 7.62mm (Special). Again, the JTF commander emphasized that he accepted
to release them only in full compliance with the dictates of the amnesty offer.

The main challenge, however, remained the reintegration and rehabilitation

efforts; there was apprehension that nothing had been done substantially to
convince the militants that the government was capable of truly rehabilitating
thousands of youths who were willing to give up militancy and return to normal
life.

There was also the concern raised by Henry Okah that amnesty should not be
seen as an abdication of the Niger Delta cause. Following his release, Okah had
travelled to South Africa, but he returned for a meeting with the president on
October 20, 2009. He was brought in by THISDAY chairman, Mr. Nduka
Obaigbena, who brokered the session.

After speaking passionately about what he considered the injustice of the

Nigerian state against the Niger Delta region, Okah said he was ready to accept
the amnesty on the condition that the president was willing to address the issues.
He also said that as a first condition, the president needed to meet with the
MEND ‘Aaron Team’ of negotiators at his earliest convenience.

After the meeting with the president, Okah, Obaigbena, and I went to the house
of the ADC where we now held another session. I personally assured Okah that
whatever message he wanted to pass across to the president could be sent
through me, and we exchanged contacts. With that, we became friends to an
extent that anytime he was in Abuja, I would host him to dinner, and when I also
went to South Africa for the World Cup in June 2010 (a few weeks after I left
office), he hosted me to a reception in his house.

The peace brought about by the amnesty was, however, still fragile because
fundamental issues remained unresolved. In his first meeting with the militant
leaders as a group on October 9, 2009, Yar’Adua decided to put his cards on the
table as to the direction he was headed. Amid calls for the government to
increase the allocation to Niger Delta, the president came prepared to argue that
the people who needed empowerment were oil producing communities.

Before the session, he had directed the minister of state for finance, Mr. Remi
Babalola, to prepare for him a comparative analysis of revenue allocations from
the federation account to the geopolitical zones of the country for the period
between June 1999 and December 2008.

Babalola’s report had stated that following the 2002 Supreme Court decision on
the onshore/ offshore dichotomy in the country, resource allocation to the Niger
Delta had taken a sharp rise. Before this ruling, allocation to the region was put
at 26.82 per cent, but with the ruling, that proportion had risen to 38 per cent of
the total allocations received by all the states in the federation.

For instance, in 2008, the allocation to Akwa Ibom state alone was N204.5
billion, which was more than the allocations of N176.2 billion to the five states
in the South East5 and more than the N198.4 billion allocated to the six states in
the North East6 while the six states in the North Central zone7 of the country
also got N197.2 billion for the same year under review.

With a tabulation of what each state of the federation received on a yearly basis
from 1999 to 2008, it was evident that much resources had gone to the Niger
Delta in the last one decade. What the president meant to achieve with the
statistics (and he was successful) was to prove that giving more money to the
states under a new revenue sharing formula would not offer a practical solution.
What he proposed was to fashion out measures that would take care of the oil-
producing communities without necessarily resorting to the long process of
amending the constitution.

His proposal was to give communities that are either hosts of or affected by oil
and gas activities a stake in the ownership of the petroleum assets through
payments of dividends similar to landowner royalty. The idea was to establish a
trust fund for these communities that host vital assets in the oil and gas industry,
such as wells, flowlines, pipelines, flowstations, gas plants and processing
facilities, terminals, and tank farms. Fund managers were expected to be
appointed to advise and manage these trust funds on behalf of the communities,
but the funds are distinct from the 13 per cent derivation currently being paid to
oil-producing states and from the Niger Delta development levy.

This position, however, contrasted with that of the governors, who were
canvassing for increasing the percentage for the derivation fund accruable to the
Niger Delta states. The president did not subscribe to their idea. His argument
was that the 13 per cent derivation fund was actually meant for the development
of the oil communities and should not be for overhead and part of normal
allocations as states were treating the money. In reeling out the statistics of the
trillions of naira that had been allocated to Niger Delta since 1999

to the militant leaders, the president succeeded in arousing their awareness that
so much had been committed to the region without a commensurate result in the
welfare of the people. But there were still many contending issues yet
unresolved.

On Saturday, November 14, 2009, Okah was at the villa with his ‘Aaron Team’

comprising Farah Dagogo; Admiral Okhai Akhigbe (rtd.); General Luke Aprezi
(rtd.); Mr. Amagbe Kentebe; and Nobel laureate, Professor Wole Soyinka, who
said he was attending merely as an observer. The meeting dwelt on the same old
issues, but again, the president gave his assurances about his commitment
towards resolving the Niger Delta problem.

Two days later, on November 16, he called a meeting where Egbogah came for
his presentation of the idea of equity matrix for the Niger Delta. Convinced that
enduring peace in the Niger Delta remained crucial to any efforts towards the
development of Nigeria’s oil and gas sector, the president believed that whatever
the cost of the post-amnesty process, the end would ultimately justify the means.
For that reason, he put everything on the line for it to succeed. His plan was that
before his scheduled two-day visit to Rivers State on November 28 and 29, 2009
the details of a concrete agenda for Niger Delta would have been finalized for
him to announce. He was also to hold a Town Hall Forum with stakeholders
from Niger Delta. As it turned out, by November 23, his health had deteriorated
to the point that he had to be flown to Saudi Arabia. The rest, as they say, is now
history.

Endnotes
1 An army major and five other ranks were sentenced to life imprisonment in
August 2008 for stealing and selling arms to MEND by a military tribunal.
Among those sentenced were Major Suleiman Alabi Akubo, Sergeant Matthias
Peter, Lance Corporal Alexander Davou, Lance Corporal Moses Nwaigwe,
Lance Corporal Nnamdi Anene and Private Caleb Bawa.

2 Teodoro Obiang Nguema Mbasogo deposed Francisco Macías in August 1979

in a bloody military coup d’état and subsequently executed his predecessor by
firing squad after a trial. Even though he declared that his government would
make a fresh start from Macías’ brutal and repressive regime, his 32-year
dictatorship has been equally brutal.
3 Respected Nigerian journalist Mr. Tunji Lardner happens to be a friend of Prof.

Gambari and was therefore serving as link man and also provided critical input
into the amnesty agenda.

4 Alaibe had since 1999 been seeking the Bayelsa gubernatorial ticket of PDP,
and in 2007, he was seen as a formidable contender against then incumbent
governor Goodluck Jonathan, for whom he was persuaded to withdraw at the last
minute. When Jonathan was eventually picked as the running mate to
presidential candidate Umaru Yar’Adua, Alaibe had been technically
disqualified from the race, but he had always wanted to be Bayelsa governor.
This much Silva knew and would therefore not want to concede any space to his
opponent.

5 The South East states are Abia, Anambra, Ebonyi, Enugu, and Imo.

6 The six North East states are Adamawa, Bauchi, Borno, Gombe, Taraba, and
Yobe.

7 North Central states are Kwara, Plateau, Benue, Niger, Kogi, and Nasarawa.

Banking Reform and Allied Matters

The impact of the global financial crisis grew in intensity as 2008 drew to a
close, and that was a cause of anxiety for most governments. It was in this
context that former governor of the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN), Professor
Chukwuma Soludo, appeared before the Federal Executive Council (FEC) in
early February 2009 to brief members on the implications of the global
meltdown for the Nigerian economy. His presentation dwelt on the causes of the
crisis; the impact on national economies; global and country responses; and
threats, opportunities and the road ahead for the nation.

With regard to its impact on the Nigerian economy, Soludo said the crisis had led
to the collapse of commodity prices, especially oil. He said further that it had
caused revenue to shrink, adding that declining capital inflows into the economy,
de-accumulation of foreign reserves and pressure on the exchange rate were also
apparent fallouts of the crisis. Some other negative features he identified as
arising from the crisis included limited foreign trade finances for banks (some,
according to him, faced the dire possibility of credit lines drying up), capital
meltdown and divestment by foreign banks.

To tackle these challenges, Soludo listed a number of measures already taken by

CBN

and afterwards gave a highlight of his forecast and prospects, one of which was
that the

“growth rate of GDP between 7-9 percent is still possible despite the economic
crisis.” He concluded by stating in categorical terms that “Nigeria won’t
experience economic recession.” To lend credence to this claim, Soludo quoted
Merrill Lynch as ranking Nigeria “among ten least vulnerable economies in the
world.” Although Soludo highlighted several threats, which included pressure on
foreign reserves and exchange rates, fiscal burden and the threat of abandoned
projects, possibility of reduced confidence in the business environment, political
pressure to spend the ‘excess crude’, he nonetheless did not see any prospect for
gloom. Rather, he saw opportunities for the nation. His optimism was built on
the conviction that while Nigeria was not insulated from the global economic
crisis, it was better prepared for it than in 1982 when the crash of crude oil price
pushed the nation to near bankruptcy. Some of the reasons he gave included the
role of Nigerian banks, which he argued accounts for over 90 percent of the
financial system’s assets, apart from dominating the stock market, which he
dubbed “the engine of the economy for the near term, which must be guarded.”
Are the banks under threat? Soludo asked rhetorically, and in response replied,
“Not significantly!” He said with about N2.7 trillion as at September 2008, their
cumulative exposure to capital market was below N900 billion. “Even if you
wipe off all of them, capital adequacy ratio is still higher than most countries.”
While Soludo conceded that the rate of profitability could reduce, he argued that
the interbank market was active, just as banking lending activities were still high
and the aggregate credit to private sector growing ‘too high’, according to the
World Bank.

Not everyone in the Federal Executive Council shared Soludo’s optimism. Many
members indeed raised doubts about the CBN report on Nigerian banks, but he
asked for evidence to the contrary. Despite the skepticism, the CBN governor
gave a good account of himself and left FEC members with no doubt that as far
as the banks were concerned, his prognosis was unassailable. It was then just
about three months to the expiration of his first term as governor, with
expectations that it would be renewed for another term of four years. The threat
to his aspiration at that period, however, emanated mainly from the state
governors, most of whom remained unconvinced that the banks were as sound as
the CBN governor presented.

There were also many within the organized private sector whose perception was
somewhat scornful: to them, Soludo was either not aware of the situation in the
banks or he was deliberately putting a sheen on their malaise. Incidentally, the
president unwittingly provided a platform for the expression of these misgivings.

In January 2009, Yar’Adua inaugurated a presidential steering committee, which

he personally chaired, with a mandate to assess the impact of the global
economic crisis on Nigeria with particular reference to the nation’s annual
budget, financial and commodity markets. The goal was for the committee to
recommend appropriate macro-economic policy responses to stimulate the
economy and identify more practical measures aimed at bolstering the
confidence of investors and increasing production in the real sector. The
committee was also to examine other related issues such as unemployment,
poverty alleviation, food availability, and how to ensure a sustainable debt
position. The committee was also supposed to make recommendations on any
other issues or actions that may be required.

Members of the Presidential Steering Committee included four governors:

Babatunde Fashola of Lagos State, Isa Yuguda of Bauchi State, Adams
Oshiomhole of Edo State and Bukola Saraki of Kwara State, as well as the
ministers of finance, national planning, and petroleum. Its members also
included the chief economic adviser to the president, Mr.

Tanimu Yakubu Kurfi; the president of the National Economic Summit Group,
Mazi Sam Ohuabunwa; Mr. Bismark Rewane, an economist; Mr. Tony Elumelu,
representing the Bankers’ Committee; Alhaji Aliko Dangote, representing
Nigerian industrialists; and CBN governor, Soludo. Quite naturally, I attended all
the sessions, which held at the villa.

In the early days of the committee, the state of banks was an issue that
dominated discussion, and I recall that both Yuguda and Saraki often accused
Soludo of prevaricating with regard to the true state of the banks. Being former
bankers, the two governors obviously had some insider knowledge about what
was going on within the financial sector, but Soludo always countered by asking
them to give him proof, which they never did. From the interactions, however, it
was obvious the duo knew a lot, because even with innuendoes and conjectures,
they were able to convey the impression that there were problems within some
specific banks.

Usman, who, until his appointment, first as finance minister and later as national
planning minister, was one of Soludo’s deputies at CBN, also held cynical views
of the state of the banks. The exchanges between Usman and Soludo were
usually very interesting as the latter was wont to say, “As if you were not with us
until recently.” What was obvious from the interactions within the committee
was that almost half of the members would not endorse a renewal of Soludo’s
tenure as CBN governor if they had anything to do with it. And these were
people with access to the president.

But evidently, Soludo also had a strong fan base. Nearly all the people close to
the president—from aides to family members and his personal friends—were
rooting for the renewal of his mandate and each for different reasons. I know that
Edevbie, himself an economist, had written a brilliant memo to argue for the
retention of Soludo on grounds that the economy was too fragile to absorb any
market upheaval that could arise as a result of bringing in a new CBN governor
at that point in time. Friends of the president like Alhaji Dahiru Mangal, were
also die-hard backers of Soludo. Somehow, the handlers of the CBN governor
must have also reached the First Lady, who by then was also rooting for Soludo.
But with Yuguda, son-in-law to the president, opposed to Soludo’s aspiration, I
knew such support could not possibly endure.

Meanwhile, I did not pretend about the fact that I was also backing Soludo. I had
my reasons: I felt that his regime of consolidation helped significantly to
institutionalize banking in Nigeria and that due to the exigency of market
stability, there was need for continuity. Right from my days at THISDAY, I never
pretended about my support for Soludo’s efforts at CBN. Besides, I also believed
that the Igbo people were not well represented in the top echelons of government
due, essentially, to the PDP zoning arrangement, which offered the region the
position of party chairman!

I have a lot of Igbo friends and often heard their complaints, which I could
identify with: in comparison with other ethnic nationalities, there was no
equitable representation for persons of Igbo origin in the Yar’Adua government.
That would explain my critical intervention in the appointment of Mr. Ogbonaya
Onovo as inspector general of police and Dr. Bernard-Shaw Nwadialo as acting
customs boss in 2009.1 Beyond the emotional satisfaction and sense of
belonging it may confer, equity in appointments and opportunities in a plural
society such as ours has always been a necessity for national cohesion and
development. It is even enshrined in the constitution under the provision of
federal character. I therefore believed that even if only by virtue of being an Igbo
man, Soludo deserved to be retained. And when I saw moves to suggest that he
might not, I confronted the president in a manner that could have cost me my job
if he were not so broadminded.

It was May 28, 2009, and the position of CBN governor was still vacant after all
the lobbies. So, I waited to see the president the moment we got to the office. I
asked: “Sir, I can see that you don’t want to extend Soludo’s tenure because the
media is awash with stories that you are resolved to give the position to a
northerner….” I could see that the president was angered by my remark. But
there was no bitter retort; rather, he told me to sit down. He waited a while
before saying, “Segun, I am very disappointed in you. By now I thought you
would have known me enough not to think like that of me. Contrary to what you
think, this CBN appointment has become the most difficult decision for me to
make. Let me tell you my dilemma: Everyday, people come here to tell me that
the picture of the banks that Soludo has been painting for me is not the correct
one. While I also have my fears about the banks, nobody has been able to give
me any concrete evidence to prove Soludo wrong. Now the challenge is, if I
approve for him a second term and it turns out these fears are correct, how do
you think I would feel?

On the other hand, it will also be unfair to deny him second term on the basis of
speculations that may turn out not to be true. That is why I am yet to make up
my mind as to what to do.”

The president explained to me that a situation where journalists were openly

speculating about the health of our banking industry, where depositors and
creditors were doubtful of the safety of their savings, and where the public was
becoming distrustful of CBN figures on the banks could not be in the interest of
our banking industry.

I spent considerable time with the president that morning after I had apologized
for my comments, which he said he appreciated. I asked him about Sanusi
Lamido Sanusi, whose name had been widely speculated in the media, and he
told me that the then First Bank of Nigeria (FBN) managing director was indeed
under consideration along with a few other people, but added that he had yet to
make up his mind about whether or not to renew Soludo’s mandate. Surprisingly,
as I got up to depart, the president asked me,

“This Sanusi guy, I have met him but never heard of him before, do you know
him?” I confirmed that I knew Sanusi by reputation and that if at the end he
settled for him, it was a choice that would be assessed on merit because Sanusi
was well respected by the media and civil society for his public interventions. I
left him feeling that he must have made up his mind on Sanusi, but by the next
day, when Soludo’s term expired, there was still no new CBN governor.

It was not until the morning of June 1 that the letter nominating Sanusi as CBN
governor was sent to Senate president, Senator David Mark. In the letter, the
president also requested the Senate to confirm the renewal, for a second term, of
the appointment of Mr.

Babatunde Lemo as deputy governor of the Central Bank of Nigeria.

As it would turn out, the president was particularly impressed with Sanusi’s
performance in the Senate in the course of his screening, which was relayed live
on television. The moment I entered his office, he said, “I watched some of the
exchanges between Sanusi and the senators, and I was impressed. I think the guy
is brilliant, but I have also been told about his integrity. I hope I made the right
choice.” Sensing that he was indirectly seeking some sort of validation for his
action, I assured him Sanusi was a good choice.

Despite not having renewed Soludo’s mandate, the president still met with him
and also wrote him a nice letter of commendation.

However, as Sanusi resumed at CBN, his first mandate from the president was to
examine the state of the banks, to ensure that all was well and that the fears
being expressed in certain quarters were unfounded. As it turned out, the fears
indeed were not unfounded. As a former bank CEO with vast experience in risk
management, Sanusi knew what to look for in the banks. After studying internal
memos, various reports and correspondences, and also interviewing regulators,
bankers, business persons, government officials and other stakeholders, he
became convinced that some of the banks were, figuratively speaking, on life
support.

Sanusi’s review of activities in the Expanded Discount Window (EDW)

particularly revealed some unsavoury details: some banks were almost
permanently locked in as borrowers and were most often unable to repay their
obligations. When CBN decided to temporarily shut the EDW to these banks,
they, in desperation, turned to banks like UBA, which had excess liquidity, but
such funds were lent at very high premium rates. Four banks were in this dire
strait. A fifth one was also a frequent borrower on the EDW.

While these banks were not the only beneficiaries of the EDW, the persistence
and frequency of their demand, by Sanusi’s reckoning, could only be a
manifestation of a deeper malaise, which CBN identified as a probable source of
financial instability.

In unraveling what exactly was going on in some of these banks, Sanusi gave
clues to the CBN examiners with regard to the areas to look for and the
questions for which they should seek answers. By the time their assignment was
concluded, the preliminary report was just a validation of what he had always
suspected: five of the ten banks whose books were examined were in serious
trouble.

Following these revelations, Sanusi prepared a report with clear options as to

what needed to be done, but he remained mindful of the political terrain within
which he was operating. When he briefed the president on his findings, he said
there were only two options open to him: either to send the report to the NDIC or
bail out the distressed banks and deal with those who put them in that state. He,
however, said he preferred the second option but without the support of the
president, there was no way he could carry it through.

While Yar’Adua immediately gave his approval for Sanusi to go after the
bankers, the CBN governor warned of the likely consequences: “Mr. President,
these are powerful people, and some of them are your friends. If we start this
process, we cannot stop, and they will put pressure on you.”

To this Yar’Adua replied, “Sanusi, I give you my word, I will not interfere in
your work.” The report on the activities of five of the ten banks that were first
examined was damning: several abuses had been committed in the name of
banking, with depositors’

funds taken to speculate in the stock market and manipulate share prices while
loans were given out without any expectation that they would be repaid. With
scant regard for corporate governance, some bank executives had even set up
Special Purpose Vehicles to lend money to themselves and cronies for stock
price manipulation and to sustain their flashy lifestyles. The level of malfeasance
was so much that the borderline between depositors money and their personal
wealth seemed non-existent to some promoters of the banks.

One bank executive took money from the till to purchase private jets, which
were then registered in the name of a son, another banker used depositors’ funds
to purchase 80

percent of the bank’s IPO, paying N25 per share when the shares were trading at
N11 on the Nigerian Stock Exchange, and these shares later collapsed to under
N3. The CEO of yet another bank controlled over 35 percent of the bank through
a crooked deal in which customer deposits were being borrowed. The pertinent
question therefore was, how could all this have escaped Soludo?

Among the documents Sanusi met at CBN, copies of which he handed to the
president, were an internal report as far back as December 2007 warning Soludo
that banks were trading in their own shares and sitting on bubble capital with
risks to the financial system; a letter written to Soludo by the NDIC managing
director, Mr. Ganiyu Ogunleye, in 2008

after a meeting between NDIC and the Security and Exchange Commission
(SEC), which proposed that a technical team be sent by CBN to examine the
books of the banks and assess possible threats with regard to capital market
exposures and a letter from the finance minister, Shamsudeen Usman in 2008
following up on the NDIC letter. Sanusi said he met no record at CBN to suggest
that any concrete action was taken.

Having secured the approval of the president, Sanusi decided to wield the big
stick by sacking the CEOs of five banks: Erastus Akingbola (Intercontinental
Bank); Okey Nwosu (Finbank); Sebastian Adigwe (Afribank); Mrs. Cecelia Ibru
(Oceanic Bank); and Bartholomew Ebong (Union Bank). But there was a
problem: the president was scheduled to travel to Saudi Arabia on August 14,
2009; this was a trip I had announced ahead of time. The CBN action was
planned in such a way that it would catch the affected CEOs unawares, so there
would be no chance to procure a court injunction to scuttle it. Given that the
president would be away in Saudi Arabia when the policy would be announced,
there was a need for a statement that would indicate that he backed the idea. This
explains why I know so much about what transpired between the president and
the CBN governor on banking reform; essentially because, for strategic reasons,
I was brought into the picture very early.

After my meeting with the CBN governor a week before the action was taken, I
reported back to the president, who gave me approval to work closely with
Sanusi and give whatever support was needed in his name. So, before the
president left for Saudi Arabia, I had his authority to intervene in his name while
he was out of the country. It was the highest demonstration of trust in me by the
president, which I will forever cherish.

The night before the president left for Saudi Arabia, Sanusi met him with the
request that he would need the support of the police, the EFCC and the SSS to
effect the decision. In his presence, the president called the DG of SSS, the
Police IG and the EFCC

chairperson. Without going into specifics, he said the CBN governor was going
to carry out a difficult national assignment, and he wanted them to do whatever
he (Sanusi) asked of them.

With that directive, Sanusi effectively began to wield powers far beyond any
CBN

governor in history. For example, through the SSS, he was able to stop most of
the affected bankers from fleeing the country.

On my part, four days after the president left for Saudi Arabia, I addressed the
media with a statement that he fully endorsed the measures announced by the
CBN governor to sanitize Nigeria’s banking sector and prevent fresh bank
failures with their attendant negative effects on the national economy. I added
that along with stricter supervision and regulation by CBN, the administration
would continue to do whatever was necessary to guarantee the safety of deposits
in Nigerian banks and entrench best corporate practices and better credit
administration processes in the management of domestic banks.

To further assure the public that the measures were taken with his support, I said
the president had directed all law enforcement agencies “to give their fullest
support to efforts by the new management teams of the five banks, which have
received bail-out funds from the CBN to recover the huge loans, the non-
servicing of which placed the banks at risk of distress.”

As expected, a major intervention like this would not go without attempts by

vested interests to fight back through scaremongering, blackmail and even
sabotage as the affected bankers began their plot. The first signal came from the
office of the AGF, without whose consent CBN could not file charges against
them: Aondoakaa chose to side with the affected bankers. Confronted with this
challenge, Sanusi, on August 17, 2009, sent a text message to the ADC in Saudi
Arabia, but he also copied me.

Meant to intimate the president about what was going on, the text message read,
“Good afternoon ADC, I don’t know how to handle this information to the
president, but it’s important for him to know. In everything we have done, we
have acted legally, but I have reliable information that last night, James Ibori and
our AGF Aondoakaa met secretly with Cecilia Ibru, and the AGF is assisting
them on securing an injunction to stop me.

Ibori owes Intercontinental Bank more than 40 billion naira, and when he
accosted me, I told him I am publishing his company’s name. Many people have
called to say Ibori is angry with me, but I told them to ask him to just settle his
obligations. We are ready for the AGF, but if we are prosecuting these people, I
will need the AGF fiat to have my lawyers do it. I am determined to bring
whoever is involved in this massive fraud to book, however highly placed such a
person is. But this is just for the president to know how badly things have gone.”

I spoke to the ADC a few minutes after he had brought the SMS to the attention
of the president, whom he said expressed anger at the AGF over his alleged
action. The president directed the ADC to get in touch immediately with the
solicitor general of the federation to help CBN with the necessary assistance if
the AGF was unwilling to facilitate the prosecution.

When this eventually got to the attention of Aondoakaa, he knew he had bitten
off more than he could chew and quickly retraced his steps. The president also
spoke on the phone with Sanusi to assure him of his full support and said that if
he needed any assistance, he could always reach him through the ADC. Within a
period of four weeks, a whopping sum of N110.8 billion had been recovered.

The AGF was, however, not acting alone; the forces that Sanusi was fighting, a
nebulous group called ‘Corporate Nigeria’, had been involved in the campaign
that had brought Yar’Adua to power. Though the former director general of the
Nigerian Stock Exchange (NSE), Dr. Ndi Okereke-Onyuike, served as the
arrowhead of the group, most of the funds used for the election had been
contributed by bankers. Since this group included the prime financiers of the
election that had brought Yar’Adua to power, it was understandable that the
bankers whose hands were caught in the cookie jar would seek protection in
their hour of need.

By the time the president came back from Saudi Arabia, report on the second
batch, comprising 15 banks, was ready. And Bank PHB, where the president’s
family has considerable interest, was among those to be affected. Mr. Francis
Atuche, the CEO, happened to be very close to some associates of the president,
but that was not the card they would use in selling their anti-CBN reform
agenda; the argument would be that Yar’Adua could not preside over the
liquidation of the bank in which his family had considerable interest!

What these do-gooders did not reckon with, however, was that the president had
some inside knowledge about some of the issues within Bank PHB and could not
have been shocked by CBN’s findings. An incident a few weeks earlier validates
this position: on the way back to the residence from the office, the ADC had
hinted to the president that Atuche wanted to see him. In a changed mood, the
president asked the ADC, “Is he your friend? If he is your friend, you better
warn him. Murtala (Yar’Adua2) has told me of how the guy is messing up the
bank, giving out unsecured loans left, right, and center. In fact, let him come, I
want to see him.”

Sanusi took action on the remaining five banks that fell short of the required
minimum capital: Bank PHB, Equitorial Trust Bank, Unity Bank, Spring Bank,
and Wema Bank.
But shortly after the president returned from Saudi Arabia, Sanusi met and
intimated him that he had no faith in Aondoakaa and that if the AGF handled the
prosecution, the cases could be compromised. He therefore asked the president
to direct the AGF to give the lawyers whom CBN would be appointing the fiat to
prosecute on behalf of the EFCC.

The president gave the directive, which Aondoakaa had no choice but to obey,
and with that, Sanusi brought in Konyin Ajayi, Kola Awodein and A. B.
Mahmoud to prosecute the affected bankers.

In retrospect, I understand the enormous pressure the president endured on the

bank issue, and this pressure came from several quarters, especially given that
promoters of some of the affected banks contributed huge funds to the campaign
that had brought him to power—which in itself was an abuse of their role. But
the president believed the CBN

governor had a responsibility to protect the interest of depositors in the affected

banks and therefore gave Sanusi all the support he needed.

Incidentally, Sanusi was in fact one of the last public officials to see Yar’Adua in
his last week in office before he left for Saudi Arabia on November 23, 2009,
and the CBN

governor recounted the conversation to me after the meeting as I escorted him to

his car.

He said that when he had shown the president the list of the assets owned by one
particular bank CEO, the president had said, “Are these not the same people
attacking you in the media that you have an agenda? Why don’t you publish the
list of their assets for the world to see? You owe it to yourself and the country for
people to see what these people were doing with depositors’ funds.”

Sanusi heeded the advice and caused to be published in newspapers the list of
the assets owned by some of the bankers. Looking back, I have no doubt that the
special examination conducted by CBN assisted in unveiling the problems in
some of the banks, and Sanusi’s action to save and strengthen the affected banks
was proactive and helped in averting what could have been a major systemic
crisis. The president understood this and gave his unwavering support.
Until he left for Saudi Arabia in November 2009, his commitment to the CBN
reform was never in doubt. But following the political upheaval created by his
sickness and prolonged absence from the country, some of the bankers saw an
opportunity to align with the new power brokers in the bid to stage a comeback
based on the cold calculations that if they backed Jonathan, he would reverse the
bank reform agenda.

I was therefore not surprised that a particular banker, who had evidently struck
some rapport with Chief Edwin Clark, soon became a frequent visitor to Akinola
Aguda House.

Aside from channeling money to some ‘civil society’ people fighting the ‘cabal’,
this person also helped to fund the media campaign that denigrated the person of
Yar’Adua in his last days.

At the end, to President Jonathan’s credit, that did not prevent the banker from
getting a jail term and forfeiting to government numerous assets running into
billions of naira.

Endnotes
1 Following the exit of Ehindero as inspector general of police, he had handed
over to Onovo as the next most senior police officer before Mike Okiro was
subsequently appointed as the substantive inspector general of police. When
Okiro was leaving, he bypassed Onovo to nominate an officer from the north as
a successor. The police affairs minister, Dr. Ibrahim Lame, in a memo to the
president to justify why it was the turn of the north to hold the office, also
nominated another northern officer different from the one Okiro was promoting
for the office. Shortly before the president made the decision, I met him to
explain the implication of bypassing Onovo for a second time when his
competence and character were not in question. I said he would be the first
officer from the South East to assume the office, and if he was denied, nobody
would believe it was not because of where he came from. While I didn’t argue
with him when he said Okiro was Igbo, I nonetheless explained that Okiro hails
from Rivers State! He then asked me to get him Onovo’s CV, which the ADC
already had with him. That was how he approved Onovo for the IG post. In the
case of Customs, the AGF had positioned a Tiv woman for the job, but she was
not the most senior; Nwadialo was. Following an approach made to me by my
friend Hon. Emeka Ihedioha, I sent a mail to the finance minister, Dr. Muhtar, on
the implication of bypassing an Igbo man who would also be the first from his
region for the position. I argued further that since he had eight months to
retirement, there was no point denying him the opportunity to reach the pinnacle
of his career. My intervention led to his memo to the president to nominate
Nwadialo.

2 Murtala Yar’Adua, son of the late Major General Yar’Adua, who was then a
director at Habib Bank representing the family’s interest. He was later to be
appointed minister in 2010 by then acting president Goodluck Jonathan shortly
before his uncle (President Yar’Adua) died.

Between Mutallab and Boko Haram

I was spending Christmas in Ilorin, Kwara State, with my family on December

25, 2009, when I received a call that would shatter that celebratory mood. The
caller said I should tune in to CNN, which had breaking news on Nigeria. I
promptly did and glimpsed a rather chilling report: A young Nigerian man had
attempted to blow up a United States Delta airlines flight en route to Detroit
from Amsterdam. As I tried to make sense of this tragic incident, I got another
phone call, this time from the CSO in Saudi Arabia.

It was through him that I knew that the Nigerian involved was Umar Farouk
Abdulmutallab, son of Alhaji Umar Mutallab, who retired as chairman of First
Bank of Nigeria in December 2009 after serving on the board for thirteen years.
Well respected in the Nigerian corporate world, Mutallab had also served in the
Federal Executive Council between 1975 and 1978 first as minister for economic
development and reconstruction and later as minister of cooperatives and supply.
It was the son of this prominent Nigerian whom I know personally and for whom
I have tremendous respect that was allegedly involved in terrorism.

Having apparently been fully briefed, the CSO apprised me of some of the
details as we reviewed the implications of the tragic incident at a time when the
president was out of the country. We both agreed it was necessary for the VP to
be kept up to date on the incident and that the Nigerian authorities had to be seen
to be on top of the situation.

After speaking with the CSO, I placed a call to the VP, who had been informed
of the development. I explained how exigent it was to have seamless information
management at that point and also informed him that I would be returning to
Abuja the next day. After speaking with him, I called the information and
communication minister, Professor Dora Akunyili, who was in Enugu, to
intimate her of the details I had and the need for us to work closely so we could
manage the fallout.

I barely slept that night as I exchanged calls and text messages with both the
ADC and the CSO in Saudi Arabia. I had no doubt in my mind that the Mutallab
saga was going to change all the calculations surrounding the absence of the
president.

The ADC had informed me that he was in touch with the American ambassador
in Nigeria, Dr. Robin Sanders, whom he said had hinted that it was important for
the president to be available to speak with President Barack Obama at very short
notice.

Although the impression I got in my interactions with Saudi Arabia was that the
president was ready to talk with the US president if the call was made, I would
later learn this was practically impossible at the period. While the president was
still very much conscious, the ailment had badly impaired his speech and made
him hardly audible. You could not possibly put someone in such a state on the
phone to speak with the most powerful man in the world. His handlers in Saudi
Arabia recognized this fact.

I was also worried about my secretary, Rosemary Amaechina. She was travelling
to the United States and had mentioned Delta Airlines, but I never imagined she
would be on the same flight. It turned out she had been on the same flight and
had actually sat three rows away from Abdulmutallab and had watched the
whole ugly drama as it played out.

What a fright the incident must have given her!

Back at home, we were beginning to feel its bitter aftermath. The United States
government had decided to impose stricter measures for US-bound Nigerian
passengers.

In what was no more than a knee-jerk reaction, the Homeland Security

administration immediately included Nigeria as a ‘country of interest’ in the war
against terrorism, while some members of Congress were pushing for Nigeria to
be included in a list of ‘terror-linked’ nations.

It was a development that could not be allowed to stand, especially given that
within 24

hours, preliminary investigation had established that though a Nigerian, Farouk

had actually spent less than 30 minutes in the country before the botched
attempt. He flew into the country on December 24 from Ghana aboard Virgin
Nigeria. His passport was scanned for entry at the immigration point at exactly
20.08pm and was again scanned for departure to Amsterdam at 20.35pm. It also
emerged that some people within the Nigerian security agencies, as well as
officials of the American embassy, had been alerted to the fact that Farouk could
be a potential threat to the US.

The VP convened a meeting of the security agencies on December 26 for full

briefing on the incident and the approach Nigeria should adopt. It was resolved
that the Ministry of Foreign Affairs should proceed with a diplomatic démarche
that it was more productive for the American authorities to collaborate with a
willing Nigerian government to combat terrorism.

Farouk’s father was also invited to meet with the VP, but somehow the meeting
never held though he had sessions with the National Security Adviser and other
top government functionaries. He would later be invited by the US Congress.

It did not take long for the authorities to piece together Farouk’s story; he was
the last of Mutallab’s 16 children by two wives: Aisha and Jidda. Aisha, the
second wife, who hails from Funtua, Katsina State, like her husband, is mother
to Farouk, who was born in 1986.

Farouk’s story reveals a remarkable tapestry. After his primary school, he spent
most of his formative years outside Nigeria; he had his secondary education at
the British International School in Lome, Togo, an elite school that reputedly
admits students from about 40 countries. Upon completion of his secondary
education, Farouk enrolled at the University College, London, in 2005, where he
graduated with a degree in mechanical engineering in 2008. Although Farouk
hardly stayed in Nigeria and would visit only for holidays, family members and
neighbours on the Ahman Pategi Street in the posh Unguwar Sarki area of the
northern city of Kaduna described him as an easy-going fellow who was
passionate about his faith.

After graduation from University College, London, his father sent him to a
university in Dubai, United Arab Emirates, where he was to complete a
postgraduate degree in business administration in January 2009. Farouk
indicated his interest in pursuing a summer course in Arabic in Yemen in July
2009, and his father consented, given his son’s flair for Arabic and since Farouk
had undertaken such a course in Yemen before.

While his father was happy about his son’s zeal and interest in matters pertaining
to faith, he became worried when he refused to return from Yemen, not even
when his elder brother wedded and everybody in the family was expecting him
to come home. This prompted the father to call all the prominent clerics whom
he knew the young Farouk had respect for, so that they could plead with him to
come back home.

One of those scholars whom Farouk’s father believed could speak with him was
Dr.

Ahmad Abubakar Gumi, whose late illustrious father, Sheikh Abubakar

Mahmoud Gumi, founded the Izala movement in Nigeria. Then pursuing a
doctoral degree in Saudi Arabia, Gumi is a respected Islamic scholar whose
views the elder Mutallab believed his son could not discountenance. What he did
not know at the time, however, was that Farouk had been so indoctrinated by Al-
Qaeda in the Peninsula that he already had his opinion of what jihad entailed and
what his own expectations as a believer were.

But the fact that Farouk knew Gumi would create its own problems following
the aborted blow-up because, at the instance of the American authorities, the
scholar was arrested in Saudi Arabia on February 24, 2010. Sheikh Yusuf Sambo
Rigachukun, a prominent Islamic cleric, had to write to the Saudi authorities,
pointing out that Gumi had lived in Saudi Arabia for almost two decades and had
never run afoul of the law. Similarly, Governor Patrick Yakowa of Kaduna State
and the Emir of Zazzau asked President Jonathan to intervene on Gumi’s
detention. The Jamaatul Nasril Islam (JNI) and the Nigerian Supreme Council
for Islamic Affairs (NSCIA) also waded in.

With the pressure on the federal government, and following representation from
Alhaji Mutallab, who knew the circumstances that led to his son’s meeting with
Gumi, Vice President Namadi Sambo had to visit Saudi Arabia on the issue. It
was his intervention with the Saudi authorities that eventually led to Gumi’s
release.

Although he tried to ensure his son received appropriate guidance with regard to
the essence of Islam, Alhaji Mutallab sensed something sinister when, in August
2009, Farouk called to inform him that he was no longer interested in pursuing
his postgraduate degree, and that he would be staying in Yemen to pursue
another course that he would not disclose.

The father became more distraught when Farouk sent a text message a few days
later, informing him that he was severing all contacts with the family and that he
would discard his mobile phone’s SIM card after that message so that attempts to
reach him would be futile. It was after this message that the father decided to
inform his friend and former national security adviser, Lt. General Aliyu
Mohammed Gusau1, about his experience with his son.

First, Gusau alerted one of his protégés in the National Intelligence Agency
(NIA) and subsequently advised Mutallab to formally report at the United States
embassy in Nigeria. The father did, expressing his fears that Farouk was being
radicalized and sought help for him to be located. Nothing, apparently, was done
until Farouk re-appeared on the flight from Amsterdam, which he nearly blew
up, putting Nigeria on the American radar.

Apparently, Nigeria’s listing as a ‘country of interest’ by US Homeland Security

was informed by some unrelated events. The decision was seemingly aided by
the fact that Farouk’s case was coming after a series of incidents involving a
group called Boko Haram, whose activities had been well documented by the
American authorities.

The history of the sect can easily be traced to 2002 with Muhammad Yusuf, a
native of Jakusko in Yobe State, as its spiritual leader and founder. His rise from
relative obscurity to prominence in the Salafi Islamic religious circle
(Wahabites) derived from the fact that he was a close disciple of the late Sheikh
Jaafar Adam. So prominent was Yusuf within the sect that at a time he was
regarded as heir to the pulpit at Muhammadu Ndimi Mosque in Maiduguri,
where Jaafar Adam used to conduct annual tafsir in the month of Ramadan.

With time, however, Yusuf began to introduce some unorthodox beliefs—

including aversion to western education and a call for jihad to oust the secular
status quo—within the Salafi circle. He also began what was considered a
rigorous proselytizing campaign to capture impressionable minds, especially
among the youth who frequented the mosque.

Eventually, he had to part ways with his spiritual leader, Jaafar Adam and was
sent packing from the Ndimi mosque by the mosque committee. He moved to
Daggash mosque, where he continued the same teaching. His daring and
scathing verbal attacks on the government portrayed Yusuf as a fiery and intrepid
cleric and this obviously endeared him to the common people, who began to see
him as a champion of the downtrodden.

Members of the political elite in Maiduguri were, however, taking note, and
Yusuf was considered no more than a nuisance. It was therefore no surprise that
the Daggash mosque committee also expelled him within a short time. That was
when his father-in-law, Baba Fugu, gave Yusuf a piece of land at the Railway
quarters, where he built a mosque and an adjoining house he dubbed ‘markas’,
from where he continued his preaching, drawing followers from the city and
beyond. His initial followership was largely from among secondary school
students and primary school pupils who abandoned their studies on the ground
that western education (‘boko’) was a sin (‘haram’), hence the name Boko
Haram. As he got more followers, his power and influence also grew.

Ultimately, Yusuf and the late Adam became archenemies, spewing verbal
attacks on each other’s views and interpretations of Islamic tenets. Adam was
vociferous in exposing what he described as the folly of Yusuf’s views on
western education and the

‘jihad’ whose advocate he [Yusuf] had become. He also warned against the
indoctrination of impressionable minds.

These opposing views quite naturally degenerated into violence. Twice Yusuf’s
disciples reportedly made failed attempts on Adam’s life in Maiduguri. Yusuf
would later be paid in his own coin when some of his lieutenants also became
more radical, claiming he had become too soft in his approach and thus splitting
from his camp to form a splinter group they named Taliban.

In September 2004, the group launched an armed uprising from a village called
Kanamma in Yobe State on the border with Niger Republic; they had renamed
the village Afghanistan. They attacked police stations, and troops had to be sent
in to restore order after several people had been killed. The soldiers engaged the
group in a two-day battle in which many sect members were killed, some were
captured and others went underground.

This attack caused the group to keep a low profile for a year, but by then the
activities of Yusuf had attracted the attention of security agencies, which on
several occasions arrested and charged him to court. But his lawyers always
managed to secure freedom for him. A few months later, the splinter group re-
emerged and launched attacks on some police stations in Bama and Gwoza in
Borno State, where they killed policemen, including an assistant police
commissioner, carted away guns and ammunition before running into the
Mandara mountains on the border with Cameroon.

The army was sent in, accompanied by helicopters. They engaged the sect
members in a mountainous battle, and in the process, scores of the attackers
were killed while the rest crossed the border into Cameroon. The Nigerian
government alerted the Cameroonian authorities, whose gendarmes succeeded in
arresting five of the militants and handed them over to Nigeria.

Following that encounter, Yusuf felt he had lost committed members of his
group, who were gradually becoming hostile towards him for what they
perceived as his weakness and moderate views. In mid 2005, he made overtures
for reconciliation to the splinter group, and there was some reintegration.

After this, Yusuf rose from a poor preacher to a wealthy cleric living in opulence
and driving SUVs around the city, where he was hailed as a hero for his criticism
of the government and his call for sharia law. His preaching—recorded on CDs
—which he daily doled out, were hot cake in the city and beyond, selling in
thousands.

In April 2007, on the eve of the general elections in the country, some
unidentified men stormed Jaafar Adam’s mosque in Dorayi, a suburb of Kano
city, at dawn and fatally shot him and three other worshipers while he was
leading the morning prayers. The attack was later followed with an invasion of a
mobile police detachment in Panshekara neighbourhood, during which 13
policemen were killed. Soldiers were drafted to the area, and the gunmen
eventually crossed the Challawa River, behind the abandoned water works they
camped in, and fled.

A few days earlier, the gunmen had launched a pre-dawn attack at the Federal
Road Safety Commission (FRSC) office and killed two officers on night duty.
The incident was thought to be a robbery attack until the night of July 26, 2009,
when Yusuf’s men struck again, invading and attacking several police posts and
public buildings in parts of Bauchi, Borno, Kano and Yobe states. At this point,
the president decided that the Boko Haram menace had to be confronted
frontally.

Coming on the eve of his departure for a twice-postponed state visit to Brazil,
there were suggestions that the president should shelve the trip on account of the
lives of policemen that were lost. But he argued that it would be improper to do
so given that the trip had been postponed twice, and besides, he noted, the
security agencies were in control of the situation. Before we departed for the
airport, he met with the NSA and security chiefs as well as the service chiefs to
whom he gave this directive: deploy troops to the area and fish out all the leaders
and members of the extremist sects involved in the attacks. The president further
directed that security be beefed up in all neighbouring states and security
personnel placed on full alert to ensure that the attacks did not spread elsewhere.

He also used informal channels to reach out to emirs and prominent Islamic
leaders in the north to rally support against Boko Haram. I had told State House
correspondents to proceed to the airport ahead of our convoy as I had secured the
commitment of the president to field questions before our departure. At the
session, the president expressed his heartfelt sympathies with the families of the
gallant police men who lost their lives while defending their posts from the
senseless attacks, as well as other innocent victims who may have been caught in
the unjustifiable mayhem. He also reaffirmed his determination to deal
decisively with all those whose misguided beliefs and actions promoted violence
and contempt for the rights of others and undermined national peace, stability,
and security. Indeed, the soldiers deployed to tackle the Boko Haram sect
fulfilled the president’s mandate when they captured its leader, Yusuf, alive with
what was no more than a minor injury on his arm. In the euphoria of the
moment, the army commander of the operation, Col. Ben Ahanoto, allowed his
men to take snapshots of Yusuf with their mobile phone cameras, before they
handed him over to the police.

The story turned awry, however, when a few hours later journalists were shown
the bullet-ridden body of Yusuf, who was said to have died in a shoot-out with
the police.

Meanwhile, Ahanoto had spoken to reporters on record that he had personally

captured Yusuf and handed him over to the chief of police in Maiduguri. He said
Yusuf had a wound on his arm, which had already been treated. The police,
however, insisted that Yusuf had been fatally wounded.

There were reports that the attack on the police station by Boko Haram members
was a response to an earlier attack on the sect members in the course of a funeral
procession.

They were said to have been accosted by the joint police/army task force called
Operation Flush for not wearing helmets while riding motorcycles. In the
altercations that followed, tempers had flared, with policemen allegedly killing
about 17 of the sect members. This was said to have been the genesis of the
crisis, but there were also allegations that the subsequent order for the killing of
Yusuf and Alhaji Buji Foi (a former commissioner for religious affairs in Borno
State) after they had been captured alive was given by certain political leaders in
Borno State. There may not have been any credibility to the allegations, but
Boko Haram members believed it and were out for revenge.

The suspicion of extra-judicial killings, however, spurred a reaction from the

police commissioner of Borno State, Christopher Dega, who said Yusuf “was in
a hideout, and the forces went there, and there was an exchange of fire. In the
course of that confrontation, he sustained his own injury. He was picked up, and
he later couldn’t make it.”

This was different from the first police version, in which Yusuf was said to have
been fatally wounded while trying to escape from custody. This version had
indeed been corroborated by Usman Ciroma, the spokesman to the Borno State
governor, who told the Associated Press: “I saw his body at police headquarters.
I believe he was shot while he was trying to escape.”

Yusuf’s financier, Buji Foi, who had been arrested and driven to the police
headquarters in Maiduguri also died under curious circumstances. Unfortunately,
there are video recordings of Foi’s execution still circulating on cell phones. I
was shown one by a police officer! The same fate befell his father-in-law, Alhaji
Baba Fugu, who also reported at the police station but never came out alive.

Human Rights Watch said that the reports of Yusuf’s killing were extremely
worrying.

“The Nigerian authorities must act immediately to investigate and hold to

account all those responsible for this unlawful killing and any others associated
with the recent violence in northern Nigeria,” said Corinne Dufka, the group’s
senior West Africa researcher. In a statement issued in Geneva, High
Commissioner for Human Rights, Navi Pillay also expressed her concerns. She
called on the Nigerian government to investigate Yusuf’s killing and bring
offenders to justice.

When the BBC published the photograph that showed that Yusuf was alive when
captured by the army, I knew we could no longer keep quiet and that the point
had to be made that extra-judicial execution had no place under the rule of law.
As, I however, waited to see the president, who was in a meeting with the VP, I
made the mistake of openly voicing my concern about what I considered extra-
judicial execution. This did not go down well with the governor of Gombe,
Alhaji Danjuma Goje, who was also waiting to see the president. “Segun, I
sometimes wonder on whose side you really are. This is someone who killed
several policemen and innocent people, and all that concerns you is what some
human rights noisemakers would say,” he charged.

We had a hot exchange on the matter and since he saw the president ahead of
me, I was not surprised when my principal bluntly refused to discuss the matter.
It was a difficult period, because while I worried about the image of the
government, I could also understand the anger of the police, whose men were
brutally killed. Photographs of the murdered officers were so gruesome that it
was not difficult to comprehend the raw emotion that could have led some
people into taking the law into their own hands. Some of these photographs were
handed to the president. While I appreciated his feelings, I also believed jungle
justice, no matter the provocation, cannot be justified by agents of the state. To
compound the situation, someone posted a video stream on YouTube of Yusuf’s
interrogation by the police after he was captured and shortly before he died.

While I dodged all the enquiries about the matter, I was determined that the
president would not remain silent on the issue, and an opportunity came when
President Boni Yayi of Benin Republic visited. At the instance of the president, I
had started a regime of joint briefing between him and any visiting leader. As the
president escorted his guest to the rostrum, I put in his hand a piece of paper. In
it I wrote that I had been reliably informed that the question the correspondents
were interested in was on the Boko Haram killing and that he should be prepared
to respond should it be asked.

Predictably, it was the first question, and the president responded that it would be
investigated, together with all the events that led to it. “Yesterday I directed the
NSA to carry out a post-mortem with the security agencies as a first step, so that
we can have a full report of what happened during the crisis, including how the
leader of Boko Haram was killed as well as the circumstances under which he
was killed.

“Now it is after we get this report that we will determine what actions to take,
whether we need to carry out further investigations into the entire matter,
because it is really a very serious issue. I have been emphasizing since this
administration came into power on our stance on the rule of law, and everybody
in this country and all the officials are clearly aware of the stance and indeed my
personal commitment and firm belief that it is the rule of law that will anchor
good governance and progress in this country.

“When issues like this happen, we do not rush into taking precipitate actions. We
try to investigate to make sure that we get the facts as they happened. So, this is
the action that I took when I came back from Brazil. Yesterday I met with all the
security agencies, and we decided on this course of action.”

The president sounded very convincing. Yet I knew there was no investigation
with regard to how Yusuf had died, and it was unlikely there would be any. The
investigation he had ordered was the usual one on Boko Haram, because, with
regard to Yusuf, the disposition of the security agencies was that two wrongs had
become a right. Since Yusuf and his men had murdered several policemen in
cold blood, they believed that justice was served with his death, regardless of
how it was carried out.

Indeed, as a proof that there was not going to be any investigation, the army
commander who handed Yusuf over to the police was recommended for
dismissal. His offence: allowing the photograph of Yusuf to be taken after
capture! It took the intervention of an aide to the president for the career of Ben
Ahanoto not to be abruptly terminated. The aide argued that dismissing an
officer who was carrying out a lawful order would be grossly unfair, especially
when it came to light that even the interrogation of Yusuf (before he met his
death) was also on the internet.

What was never in doubt was the president’s resolve that the spectre of Boko
Haram had to be completely rooted out. Against the background of a growing
population of idle youths, especially in the northern part of the country, the
president was of the firm conviction that preachers of incendiary messages, like
Yusuf, were a danger to society.

But the circumstances of the Boko Haram leader’s death remain till today a
permanent sore to the image of Yar’Adua’s administration, which had made
respect for the rule of law its cardinal objective.

A Borno State high court would later find the police guilty of unlawfully
executing Yusuf’s in-law, Baba Fugu, and awarded N100 million in damages to
his family.

Babakura Fugu, 40, a schoolteacher and eldest son of the deceased, had sued the
president, Governor Ali Sheriff, and the inspector general of police for his
father’s alleged execution while he was in police custody.

Justice Mohammed Mustapha, in his judgement, also granted the prayer that
Baba Fugu’s corpse be exhumed from ‘wherever it is’ and given to his family for
proper burial, and that the respondents should publicly apologize to the family.
The family had told the court that Baba Fugu’s corpse had been buried along
with other corpses in a mass burial despite their appeal for its release.

I am not aware that the government ever complied with this ruling, given at a
time when the president was battling for life and Jonathan was already acting
president.

Endnotes
1 Lieutenant General Aliyu Mohammed Gusau is a retired army officer who held
the position of NSA from 1999 to 2006 during the Obasanjo presidency. He had
also been appointed chief of army staff by General Babangida shortly before he
left office in August 1993 but was removed by General Abacha shortly after. He
would later be appointed the national security adviser by then Acting President
Goodluck Jonathan during the crisis occasioned by President Yar’Adua’s long
medical sojourn in Saudi Arabia.

When Counted Votes Don’t Count

At his inauguration on May 29, 2007, President Yar’Adua took the rather
unusual step of conceding that the elections that had brought him to office ‘had
shortcomings’. As a result, he pledged to reform the nation’s electoral process.
Exactly three months later, he took that promise beyond rhetoric as he
established a 22-member electoral reform committee to examine and identify
lapses and inadequacies that have stifled the yearning for free and fair elections
in Nigeria.

The mandate of the committee, headed by former chief justice of the federation,
Justice Muhammed Uwais, included a review of Nigeria’s history with general
elections and identification of factors that militate against their credibility.1

On January 16, 2008, five months after inaugurating the committee, the
president held a consultative meeting on electoral process in Nigeria with all the
state governors, the leadership of political parties that won elections in one or
more states in the 2007

elections, the leadership of the National Assembly, and the heads of various
security agencies. He opened the discussion by acknowledging that the history of
elections in Nigeria had been that of controversies, adding that the responsibility
for all the failures lay mostly with the political actors. “No matter the
legislations, no matter the efforts we put at electoral reforms, unless we the
political leaders change our attitude towards election, we will continue to have
problems.”

After his brief remarks, all the journalists were excused because, as he said, he
wanted a frank and open discussion. Even when that had been done, he looked in
my direction rather apprehensively, as if he considered me to be one of the
reporters he had only moments ago excused. The import of that became glaring
when he began to speak again.

“Now that journalists have left and all of us are politicians, we should be able to
speak the truth,” he began. “If we will be honest with ourselves, we all know
how we rig elections in this country. We compromise the security agencies, we
pay the electoral officials and party agents while on the eve of the election we
merely distribute logistics all designed to buy the votes….”

For about twenty minutes, the president spoke candidly about the methods
usually adopted to manipulate elections, stopping occasionally to ask rhetorically
whether his observations were false. Nobody controverted him, and so he
concluded by telling the participants that collectively, they could lay a new
foundation for democracy in the country if the political elite had the will.

That candid declaration by the president achieved its aim as it emboldened

others to speak frankly. It was a most enlightening session that revealed quite
clearly that the average Nigerian politician would rather not leave matters in the
hands of the electorate on polling day. The meeting, which commenced at 11
a.m., eventually ended at 5:30 p.m.

with the constitution of four committees under the coordination of the VP. One
of the committees’ tasks was to examine the role of security agencies in the
course of elections and why murder and arson perpetrated on polling day were
usually treated as ‘electoral violence’, with nobody ever successfully prosecuted
for such heinous crimes.

The session also agreed on the composition of bi-partisan committees whose

recommendations were expected to shape the agenda for the next meeting,
which, as it would turn out, never held. In fact, that would be the first and last of
such meetings. The Uwais Committee, however, continued its work, and after
sitting for one year, during which they received hundreds of memoranda and
conducted several public hearings across the country, came up with extensive—
and rather radical—recommendations in their report, which was made public.
Some of the recommendations included

• establishing a new, truly independent, non-partisan and impartial INEC
composed mainly of representatives of professional groups who are nominated
through the National Judicial Council;

• abolishing the state independent electoral commissions and resident electoral

commissions so that INEC handles all elections in the country;

• establishing a political parties registration and regulatory commission to,

among other things, register political parties, monitor their organization and
operations, and arrange for the annual auditing of their accounts;

• establishing an electoral offences commission to investigate electoral offences

and prosecute offenders;

• establishing a constituency delimitation commission to handle the creation and

periodic review of electoral constituencies; and

• stipulating the time limit for disposing of election petitions, that is, four months
for election tribunals to deliver judgement and two months for the conclusion of
all appeals.

The committee also recommended the use of electronic voting machines for
future elections; stipulation of additional conditions to be met by any political
association seeking registration as a political party; and the introduction of
independent candidature in all elections. Equally recommended was the injection
of a dose of proportional representation into the current ‘first-past-the-post’
electoral system, in order to promote greater inclusiveness and minimize both
pre-and post-election tension; holding all elections on a fixed date, at least six
months before the expiration of the term of incumbents, to allow adequate time
for election petitions and appeals to be concluded before swearing anyone in;
and staggering elections such that National and State Assembly elections hold
two years after presidential and governorship elections.

On January 16, 2009, the president appointed a committee to produce a draft

white paper on the report for the Federal Executive Council (FEC), which
eventually held three consecutive sessions spanning several hours, during which
it agreed that the funding of INEC would be a first-line charge on the
consolidated revenue fund of the federation.
The goal was to ensure that its financial and administrative independence was
guaranteed.

The FEC also accepted the recommendation that politicians convicted of

violence during elections, in addition to any other punishment, should be barred
from holding public office for 10 years. Indeed, all the other recommendations
by the committee were accepted except the following:

• Injecting a dose of proportional representation into the current ‘first-past-the-

post’

electoral system, in order to promote greater inclusiveness and minimize both

pre-and post-election tension.

• Holding all elections on a fixed date, at least six months before the expiration
of the term of incumbents, to allow adequate time for election petitions and
appeals to be concluded before swearing anyone in.

• Staggering of elections such that National and State Assembly elections hold
two years after presidential and gubernatorial elections.

• Shifting the burden of proof from the petitioners to INEC to show that disputed
elections were indeed free and fair and complied with the provisions of the
Electoral Act 2006. (This last recommendation was against the cardinal
principles of law, which provides that whoever asserts must prove.)

The most contentious, however, was the recommendation that INEC members
should be nominated by members of the NJC. This had been a thorny issue
within the white paper drafting committee, and Mr. Hakeem Baba-Ahmed, a
permanent secretary in the SGF

office and a former INEC secretary, had argued with the AGF over this
provision, which he considered cardinal to the Uwais report.

Given his experience and exposure, Baba-Ahmed’s view could not be taken
lightly, but Aondoakaa would argue on the point of law that in the presidential
system of government, the power to appoint or nominate could not be taken
away from the president. He would adopt a similar premise when he intervened
at a heated FEC session during which some members had taken the issues
personally, as if it was the integrity of Yar’Adua that was being questioned. So,
the discussion became, unfortunately, an emotional one.

Justice Uwais, who was invited to the FEC session argued forcefully that if that
aspect of the report was removed, Nigerians would not believe the government
was serious about electoral reform. He said that almost all the memoranda that
the committee received canvassed the position that the choice of electoral
officials should be made by the NJC

and that it had been the main issue at the public hearings they had held.

From the tone of the discussion, I could immediately discern that Justice Uwais
would feel let down if the clause was removed, so shortly before the last FEC
session on the report, I tried an intervention. As members were seated in the
council chambers, I asked Uwais whether he was disposed to the idea of a
meeting with the president before the session began. I suggested that it would be
helpful if he could personally express his misgivings and offer some advice.
When he said he wouldn’t mind, I rushed to the residence and met the president
at the study examining some papers as he sipped his tea, preparatory to leaving
for the FEC session. I pleaded with him to tarry a while to have a private
audience with Uwais, and when he agreed, I went back to the council chambers
and brought Uwais to meet the president. The duo met for about 15 minutes, but
it didn’t appear as if it achieved any meaningful result.

With the handling of the Uwais report by the FEC, the public felt betrayed, with
the consensus being that there would be no free and fair election in Nigeria until
the appointment of the INEC chairman was insulated from the president. For
him to therefore retain the power to nominate the chairman and INEC members
conveyed to critics the impression that he was not serious about electoral reform,
especially at a time when Prof.

Maurice Iwu was being singularly held responsible for the problems associated
with the 2007 general elections in the country. This in itself was a simplistic
reading of events.

While it is agreed that the 2007 elections were deeply flawed, it is necessary to
put it in context. The problem with the elections began when, following his
failed third-term bid, Obasanjo decided to scuttle Vice President Atiku
Abubakar’s ambition to succeed him by setting up an extra-constitutional body
to examine allegations of corruption against aspirants seeking public office at
both the federal and state level, based on EFCC reports.

It was on the basis of Atiku’s indictment alongside others by this committee that
an

‘EFCC advisory’ was forwarded to INEC to ban certain office seekers, including
the former VP. While many of these candidates were eventually excluded from
the election (a development that would later set the stage for further confusion in
the polity), Atiku sought legal redress, and the Supreme Court quashed the ban
on him on the eve of the presidential election. With ballot papers already printed
without his name, another set was ordered, with all the attendant logistical
problems that INEC could not handle. So from the outset, the 2007 elections
were doomed to fail.

Nothing captures what happened at the polls better than the report of the
European Union (EU) Election Observation Mission, led by Max van den Berg:
“The elections were marred by very poor organization; lack of essential
transparency; widespread and procedural irregularities; substantial evidence of
fraud; widespread voter disenfranchisement; lack of equal conditions for
political parties and candidates; and numerous incidents of violence.”

In several respects, the laws guiding the elections were flagrantly violated, and
the preceding conduct of the PDP primaries at all levels further exacerbated the
problems. In several states, names of nominated candidates were substituted with
either those they defeated or candidates of rival parties, who were then co-opted
to fly the PDP banner even against their own rule, which stipulated a minimum
period of membership for any contender. That set the stage for the electoral fraud
perpetrated all over the nation and the subsequent judicial interventions that in
themselves politicized the courts.

While Yar’Adua, then outgoing two-term governor of Katsina State, played no

substantial role in the elections that brought him to office as president, he was a
beneficiary of the flawed process and therefore inherited the challenges
associated with it. But in retaining the power to appoint INEC officials rather
than handing such responsibilities to the National Judicial Commission as
prescribed by the Uwais Committee, the president created disaffection between
the public and himself.

The matter did not, however, end there. On the day he presented the FEC’s
conclusions on the Uwais Report to the Council of State, the president said all
the recommendations were up for debate. Unfortunately, the Council of State did
not even show as much enthusiasm as the FEC, because, notwithstanding the
pleas of Governor Adams Oshiomhole, its members rejected outright the
inclusion of nominees from Labour, media, civil society, youth and women into
the INEC Board. They also rejected the abolition of the state independent
electoral commissions, which would have empowered INEC to conduct all
elections in the country, including the local government polls.

In contrast, FEC debates were indeed interesting and exhaustive. For instance,
the recommendation of the Uwais committee was that elections should hold six
months before inauguration in order that all petitions could logically be
unravelled before swearing in. The FEC reasoned that to conduct elections six
months before swearing in implies that for six months there would be two
authorities in one state or local government or even at the federal level. Such,
members argued, was a recipe for anarchy.

A counter proposal to impose a time-limit of three months for the conclusion of

all petitions was also suggested. But this was considered impracticable. Uwais
had attended both the FEC as well as the Council of State meeting to guide
discussion. Justice Belgore, also a former chief justice of the federation, was also
present at the Council of State meeting. The president asked Uwais what he
thought was the reason electoral matters could not be settled within three months
since they were all concluded within that period during the Second Republic.
The response was that what obtained during the Second Republic was a military
aberration that could hardly apply in a democracy. From the exchanges, there
was no guarantee that even the six months being proposed would suffice. This
pessimism then inspired new thinking: if justice would be enthroned by allowing
the aggrieved to seek redress without the constraints of time, then so be it.

The contentious issue, however, remained the appointment of the INEC board.
Aside from the doctrine of separation of powers on which the FEC based its
decision, it was the considered view of the Council of State that the judiciary
should be insulated from politics. The argument was that since the reasons
adduced for the electoral fiasco in most states across the federation were
attributed to INEC, whose officials were in most cases reprimanded by the
tribunals, then the impartiality of the judiciary would not be guaranteed if it was
involved in the appointment of INEC officials. Citing the examples of Edo,
Ondo, and a few other states where results were upturned, with the tribunal
expressing strong opinions about the conduct of INEC officials, it was noted that
had the judiciary been involved in the appointment of the officials, it’s
inconceivable that they would have humiliated the same people they helped to
appoint.

Governor Segun Mimiko of Ondo State, who secured victory at the tribunal said
the judiciary would have been defensive of INEC the same way INEC had been
defensive of its elections, inclusive of the most defective ones, if they were part
of the electoral process. At the end, the media and civil society believed the
nation had been shortchanged, particularly, with the president retaining the
power to nominate the members of the INEC board to the Senate.

What made the public to be further suspicious of Yar’Adua’s intention on

electoral reform was the fact that the election that brought him to office was
tainted, yet he managed to secure a controversial legal victory at the Presidential
Election Tribunal. On February 26, 2008, the tribunal, headed by Justice James
Ogebe, gave what many saw as a political judgement when it declared that the
opposition had “established substantially the non-compliance with the electoral
act” in the conduct of the election, yet still ruled that the petitioner “failed to
establish the substantiality (effect) of the non-compliance on the results.”

It was even more curious that Justice Ogebe (who had been nominated to the
Supreme Court) would be absent, with the ruling delivered by Justice John
Afolabi Fabiyi. Not surprisingly, there were allegations that the verdict was
procured, and there were people around the president who actually gave the
impression that they fixed it. Weeks before the ruling, I had intimated the
president that the AGF was spreading word around about the case and creating
the impression that he was going to ensure the president won. I assured the
president that he needed to warn Aondoakaa on the matter, while adding that
even if the election was cancelled, the president would still win.

Many of the principal staff of the president were also worried about
Aondoakaa’s antics and openly expressed their displeasure. Several times during
that period, Aondoakaa and Ibori fondly told those who cared to listen within the
villa that “right now we have two judges for and three against.” Sometimes, it
was “one for and four against” and some other time, it was “all the judges are
against us.”

I always marvelled at how they could possibly know all that, and I wondered
about what they would have been telling the president. I had no doubt in my
mind that all these were to put fear into Yar’Adua and probably make themselves
more relevant in the scheme of things as they were. Did they procure the
judgement? I have had cause to seek clarifications from the president’s lawyer,
Chief Wole Olanipekun (SAN), a respected and very honourable man, who said
he never had dealings with any judge, and if the AGF

was actually saying all that, he was talking nonsense.

Incidentally, Aondoakaa and Ibori continued this numbers game when the case
climaxed at the apex court. I recall that a particular justice (now retired) got to
hear about it, and he booked an appointment with the president. He said he had
heard that Aondoakaa had boasted to some people that he (AGF) fixed the
judgement and he needed to ask the president to bring him (Aondoakaa) for a
meeting where he would have to confirm whom he gave money to. I am not sure
the meeting ever took place.

With the foregoing controversy as a backdrop, the April 2008 gubernatorial re-
run elections in Ekiti State, where the PDP and AC had equal members in the
House of Assembly, was bound to be seen as a real test of the government’s
political will and ability to reform Nigeria’s electoral system. The tribunal ruling
had left the AC leading by about 10,000 votes after results from five local
governments had been cancelled. This gap led to the belief in the media and civil
society that the only way the outcome could be in favour of the temporarily
ousted PDP Governor Olusegun Oni was if the polls were manipulated.

As he did in every other state where there were re-run gubernatorial elections,
the president was in Ekiti to flag off the PDP campaign for Oni. But in the
process, Speaker of the House of Representatives, Hon. Dimeji Bankole, broke
into a song that seemed to suggest the federal government would deploy troops
to prosecute the election. “We will use soldiers (for this election), the other time
we used MOPOL (mobile policemen), we will use soldiers,” Bankole sang to a
thunderous applause from the PDP supporters at the party’s rally in Igede-Ekiti.

Once the Speaker’s allusion to troop deployment had been made, I knew there
would be a media backlash, and not surprisingly, it was the headline news
throughout that day and the next.

Incidentally, other speakers at the campaign also made veiled threats about the
deployment of troops. Launching an attack against former Lagos State governor,
Asiwaju Bola Tinubu (believed to be the backer of Dr. Kayode Fayemi, AC
candidate for the Ekiti re-run polls), Osun State governor, Olagunsoye Oyinlola,
said the PDP would deploy every resource available to it for the Ekiti election to
ensure that Oni emerged victorious.

“We will use the resources at our disposal to ensure that he overcomes.
Whatever support he needs, we will give to him. We shall be victorious. We will
win the election by all means possible.”

It was not unexpected that the AC would dwell on the faux pas in Bankole’s
song about deploying troops. The director of communications for the Kayode
Fayemi campaign organization, Mr. Yemi Adaramodu, set the tone for this: “We
wish to remind the Speaker of the House of Representatives, Dimeji Bankole,
that Ekiti people have never been known to succumb to the threat of armed
soldiers. The ruling clique tried their luck in the act of intimidation with soldiers
and police in the past and got their fingers burnt. It is still the same people that
inhabit the space called Ekiti today and they are more than ready to defend their
votes.”

The party also advised the president to refrain from deploying troops, which, in
their reckoning, was for the ulterior motive of rigging the election for his party.
When we got back to Abuja, I was convinced the presidency had to wade in. I
outlined the implications of bringing the military into partisan politics to the
president, and he assured me that troops would not be deployed. He had already
met with the inspector general of police, Mr. Mike Okiro, and directed him to
increase the strength of the police in Ekiti State with additional squads from five
neighbouring states, he told me.

Since the election was going to be held only in a fraction of Ekiti state, he had
been assured that the police could offer adequate security. I therefore told the
media that troops would not be deployed in the conduct of Ekiti elections but
that security would be adequate to take care of any eventuality. This, of course,
outraged many people within the PDP and the government, as well as some
security chiefs sympathetic to the ruling party, who had already labeled me ‘a
closet AC member’. The same charge was leveled against Remi Babalola after
openly expressing his concerns about the management of the Ekiti election
crisis.

The truth of the matter was that I was neither an AC sympathizer nor opposed to
the re-election of Governor Oni; what I considered paramount was the danger
inherent in unwittingly dragging the military into the conduct of elections in just
a section of one state. I knew the president was opposed to deployment of troops,
yet I had been reliably informed that there was already a plot to send soldiers to
Ekiti on the eve of the election.

Their role, ostensibly, was to keep the peace. I realized too that this was being
done without the knowledge of the president. When this illegal order was
eventually carried out, I rushed to the ADC, in the presence of whom the
president had directed that soldiers were not to be seen on the streets of Ekiti on
the day of election.

He had to speak with the chief of army staff, who was then abroad and had also
not been kept abreast of the situation. Counter orders were then immediately
issued, and the troops were withdrawn immediately.

But the AC had already issued a statement that essentially highlighted the party’s
disappointment on the reported presence of troops in Ekiti State, which it noted
was inconsistent with the earlier assurance by the president that he would not
deploy soldiers to the state. It added that such a development had called to
question the credibility and integrity of the president.

Knowing that the president had not ordered any deployment of troops, this was
not something I could take lightly. I made another statement that troops had not
been—and would not be—deployed for the Ekiti elections. Curiously, the
director of army public relations, Brigadier General Chris Olukolade, had told
the media that the army headquarters was aware of the presence of soldiers in
Ekiti State. “Their going there should not be politicized. It is not about elections.
Their being there is purely for security reasons.”

While some within government queried my motives, the basis for my

intervention was basically due to the fact that I knew the instruction did not
emanate from the president, who, as commander in chief, was the only person
who could authorize the deployment of troops. I also knew those behind the
entire plot, and I suspected that their plot was not motivated by altruism.

Owing to the malicious campaign being launched against me internally, I had to

seek an audience with Governor Oni to reassure him that I was not covertly
working against him, and that I was only doing my job. We met in Abuja, and he
expressed appreciation that I would explain my role, as he had been told tales
about me.

Oni, no doubt, is a very decent man, but the forces involved in the Ekiti elections
really did not care much about him. All the cold calculations were based on PDP
‘stopping Tinubu in the southwest’ and not about the governor securing back his
mandate. While I had no problem with PDP attempting to win the southwest, I
could not possibly stand aloof if the tactics being adopted would call to question
the integrity of the president.

Following the stalemate that dogged the election, these same people would put
the whole blame on me, with the argument that the election was mismanaged
because of my announcement that troops would not be deployed. Without
deference to my position as spokesman for the president, they directed me to
report to SSS headquarters for interrogation on my role in the Ekiti saga.

When I received the letter, the first emotion I felt was rage. I called the CSO to
intimate him about the letter and the fact that I was going to ignore it, warning
that if any attempt was made to arrest me, I would resign, but not quietly. He
came to my office to withdraw the letter, which he said I should ignore, while
pleading with me not to inform the president. On later reflection, I decided I
would honour the SSS invitation, but at a time of my choice.

I went on a Saturday and spent about two hours with the panel investigating the
fallout of the Ekiti election. Of course, I was not surprised that the question the
investigators wanted me to answer was who gave me authority to announce that
soldiers would not be deployed. My response was quite simple: they could go
and find out from the president!

I happen to know most of my interrogators, some since my days as a journalist.

Air Vice Marshall Moses Akinola Akinsanmi, who left the villa a few months
before as commander of the presidential fleet, was also on the panel, so the
session itself was very friendly, and I used the opportunity to extract information
about the Ekiti debacle and what they considered the problem.

I realized that my role became crucial because there had been allegations that
Tinubu had imported some Niger Delta militants and a lot of arms into Ekiti
State and that only soldiers could enforce peace in the election. Even while I was
not aware of this at the time, I still felt that politicizing the deployment of troops
could bring incalculable damage to the image of a president who had promised
electoral reform. Besides, I could not have envisaged that the police would find
it difficult to monitor elections in just a few wards within five local governments
in a small state!

The election itself had featured a major drama, which began when the resident
electoral commissioner (REC), Mrs. Ayoka Adebayo, disappeared midway into
collating the results, and afterwards a letter of resignation purportedly written by
her appeared in the media. She was believed to have rejected some of the results
from Ido Osi Local Government Area, the home base of Governor Segun Oni,
and was allegedly inclined to cancelling the election in tense Oye-Ekiti because
of violence.

In an attempt to rationalize the unfolding event, the INEC chairman, Prof.

Maurice Iwu, said he had been informed “that as a result of the pressure of the
exercise, the REC broke down and took ill, the commission had no choice but to
postpone the remaining election.” With this situation, it was not lost on critical
observers that a government that pledged electoral reform in the country was
finding it difficult to conduct transparent elections in a fraction of a small state.
That displeased the president. But all the briefs he was getting on the botched
polls dwelt on the activities of Tinubu, who was labeled the brain behind the
whole controversy. Media reports were, however, different; but it didn’t seem to
matter, as the perception within government was that Tinubu had the media also
on his side.

With the situation, I advised the president that the wise thing to do would be to
reject Mrs. Adebayo’s resignation and that she be allowed to conclude the
process. Since the insinuation was that there was pressure on her to declare a
false result, what was needed, I reasoned, was for the security agencies to
embolden her to do the right thing. The president agreed to this idea.

In the course of the impasse, the president summoned a security meeting, and
Iwu was invited to brief them. Before this meeting commenced, I had prepared
for the worst, because I knew that some people would still press the charge that I
was to blame for the fiasco. So, when the ADC rushed to my office, I was
surprised when he said: “Oga [the president] said he wants another copy of the
letter from that your Harvard friend you enclosed for him this morning.”
This gave me some comfort that whatever would be said against me at the
meeting would not count after all. Early that morning, I had received a mail from
my friend, Waziri Adio, who was then a Mason Fellow at the Harvard Kennedy
School, and had found his advice very instructive. I printed the mail and put it in
the newspaper reports for the president with a note that he should read it. This
was the letter he was asking me to reprint for him, which I did.

Waziri had written:

Dear Sege, I have to apologise for bothering you on this, but after wrestling with
this Ekiti State saga for a few days, I decided I should share my concerns with
you, even if you can’t do anything about them. I know the situation in Ekiti is
complicated.

Even from afar, I can see that neither party is completely innocent and that the
struggle is beyond the interest of Ekiti people. I can see the struggle for/against
dominance in Yorubaland; I can see dress-rehearsals for 2011; I can see clash of
big and fragile egos.

For all these reasons and more, Ekiti State has become a battle-ground and may
well become a tipping point for something quite ominous, if we allow the
situation to degenerate. But I also see opportunities written all over this: to show
that the talk of electoral reform is sincere; to demonstrate that votes will count in
future elections; to underscore that [the] rule of law is not a mere convenient
rhetoric. More than at any other time, this is the time to show real leadership. Let
the votes be counted and the winner duly declared. Who will listen to you when
you talk about electoral reforms and decent elections when we needlessly bungle
election in just one state? This is not a time for dilly-dallying. It is the time for
clear, forthright and open instructions.

If PDP is losing (I say if), this is the time to be strategic in conceding a battle to
win the war. If this is the case, let the president instruct INEC to do the right
thing, and call Oni to concede and compensate him. If PDP is not losing, then let
this whole process be clear and transparent. It is a tough call. But that is what
leadership is all about. If well handled, I see a huge opportunity for this
administration and Mr. President, as the attendant goodwill can then be spinned
positively.


How the president used the letter at the meeting I have no idea, but the
conclusion at the end was that Mrs. Adebayo should be persuaded to conclude
the election.

Eventually she did by announcing Oni as the winner, but the whole process had
been sullied already, with the image of the government bearing an embarrassing
taint. The result itself did not endure for long, as Fayemi ultimately won at the
court of appeal, but by then, the president had left the scene.

Endnotes
1 An outline of the president’s directive shows that the committee had this
mandate: to make general and specific recommendations that would ensure 1) a
truly independent electoral commission imbued with administrative and financial
autonomy; 2) an electoral process that would enable the conduct of elections to
meet acceptable international standards; 3) legal processes that would ensure that
election disputes are concluded before inauguration of newly elected officials;
and 4) mechanisms to reduce post-election tensions.

Yar’Adua and the World

From the point he was making, I had no doubt the story being recounted by the
permanent secretary for the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Ambassador Joe Keshi,
was directed at me. But the president could not resist laughing about what
transpired at the February 2009 pre-summit meeting of African Union Foreign
Ministers in the Libyan town of Sirte, the birthplace of Libyan president,
Colonel Muammar Gaddafi.
According to Keshi, the council of ministers had just adopted a document on the
incremental approach towards transforming the AU into a continental authority
when Gaddafi sauntered into the meeting with a sheet of paper, which he gave to
the presiding official. He was insistent that the proposals contained therein be
adopted as the official position. This brazen and unprecedented intervention
proved somewhat effective, as some ministers easily acquiesced. Others,
however, disagreed, thus causing a stalemate before the Libyan leader eventually
walked out in a huff.

The next day, when word got to Gaddafi that the agenda adopted by the ministers
was not the one he had dictated, he returned to the meeting venue and this time
insisted that his document be read by the Libyan foreign minister, saying that
was the only document to be presented at the July AU Summit, where he would
preside as chairman. To the consternation of those present, the Libyan official
began to read Gaddafi’s document.

The message in Keshi’s story was actually a sub-text. He was baffled that a
Nigerian journalist who witnessed the drama was more interested in asking him
(Keshi) whether it was true that Nigeria had yet to pay all her dues to the AU! In
Keshi’s story, the president could glimpse the excesses of Gaddafi that he had
lived with for two years.

In terms of foreign affairs, the Yar’Adua years were defined by largely

unflattering tales.

It was a period when Nigeria’s seat in the international arena was mostly empty
due to the illness of the president, which compelled him to travel less. But it was
also an era characterized by the mistrust nursed by the United States over
Nigeria’s apparently fledgling friendship with China and refusal to sanction the
AFRICOM deal. Within the region and the sub-region also, there were events
that defined the period, but none more interesting than the antics of Gaddafi and
the constant plot by the trio of Thabo Mbeki of South Africa, Meles Zenawi of
Ethiopia and Yar’Adua to checkmate him.

Yar’Adua’s predecessor, Obasanjo, had a towering image on the international

arena, where he was very much respected. It was an image that had been
cultivated over three decades and which had its roots in 1979, when he handed
over power as a military leader, and was burnished further from the period he
was a member of the Commonwealth Eminent Persons Group that negotiated
with the apartheid regime in South Africa through to the time he was deemed a
favourite to become the secretary general of the UN. His was therefore no doubt
a big shoe to fill by Yar’Adua, whose induction into African affairs came at the
July 2007 AU Summit in Ghana, five weeks after he assumed office.

That special summit coincided with Ghana’s 50th year anniversary and had a
single-item agenda, Grand Debate on Union Government, a tribute to the
country’s first president, Kwame Nkrumah, who played a leading role in the
formation of the 31-nation Organisation of African Unity (OAU) in 1963.

Fifty years later in Ghana, Alpha Oumar Konare, the AU Chairman, evoked the
memory of Nkrumah as he declared, “The battle for the United States of Africa
is the only one worth fighting for [in] our generation, the only one that can
provide the answers to the thousand-and-one problems faced by the populations
of Africa.” But Konare was not speaking for the continent, he was simply re-
echoing the wish of one man: the Libyan leader, Gaddafi. Donning his usual
sunglasses, a safari suit with silhouettes of Africa emblazoned on it, and
accompanied by his usual retinue of female bodyguards, the ‘Brother Leader’, as
colleagues usually addressed him, arrived in Accra with the sole agenda of
proclaiming into existence the United States of Africa, probably with himself as
life president!

As desirable as the dream was, Yar’Adua and others could see nothing on
ground to make that a reality, and so they voiced their concerns. As far as they
were concerned, a more productive approach for the continent would be to begin
to put in place those building blocks that would ultimately lead to the realization
of the dream. Zenawi put this rather succinctly in his contribution when he said
there were two groups: those who believe you could build a house from the roof
and those, like himself, Presidents Yar’Adua and Mbeki “who believe it’s wiser
to build a house from the foundation.” Accustomed to having his way, the
Libyan leader views any challenge as anathema, and, as at all other meetings he
attended, in Ghana, he often ensured that every other leader was seated before he
made his noisy entry with several aides and cameramen. Then he would choose
when to speak, and whenever he did, he determined for how long. He never
abided by the rules. Besides, he would not stay in a hotel, preferring rather to
camp in a large tent. He also always drove into AU summits in a convoy of no
less than 50 new vehicles, which he usually left behind in the country while
crowds are usually mobilized for him ahead.
These idiosyncrasies were taken to a ridiculous height In Accra. A day before the
summit began, Gaddafi had gone to the University of Ghana, where he roused
the students that

“for Africa, the matter is to be or not to be,” while inciting them against African
leaders who were opposed to the idea. “My vision is to wake up the African
leaders to unify our continent,” he said, describing himself as a ‘soldier for
Africa’.

But at the end, he went home disappointed. In Ghana, he played court to some
African leaders, who were evidently on his payroll. He also sought audience
with Yar’Adua, and, typically, he would rather the Nigerian president come to
meet him in his tent. He was ignored. The president never minced words that he
could not reconcile himself to someone who treated fellow Africans in his
country shabbily yet wanted to lead the continent.

As Libya currently unravels, it’s now easy to understand why Gaddafi would call
for a break-up of Nigeria under Yar’Adua’s watch since his tactic is, and has
always been, to bribe those African leaders he can and destabilize those he
cannot. Yar’Adua belonged to the latter group. Within the continent, by forming
an alliance with Zenawi and Mbeki, the president and others were able to
checkmate their ‘Brother Leader’, who remained a constant irritant nonetheless.

Outside the continent, the first critical challenge Yar’Adua encountered in the
area of diplomacy was in handling the issue of AFRICOM, which essentially
defined the relationship with the United States. The details emerged on
November 19, 2007, at the Council of State meeting, when the president
informed members of moves by the United States Department of Defense to
relocate the military command for Africa (AFRICOM) from its temporary base
in Stuttgart, Germany, to the continent. He said most African leaders were
opposed to the idea, and so was Nigeria. It was really not an issue for debate—it
was merely a matter of information, and he was commended for bringing it to
the notice of the council.

However, in briefing the media after the session, the Kwara State governor, Dr.
Bukola Saraki, announced that Nigeria would not approve the plan to domicile
AFRICOM within the shores of the continent. The US was, to put it mildly, not
pleased, because AFRICOM
was high on the agenda of the issues for which President Bush had invited
President Yar’Adua to the White House, an official visit that was just about three
weeks away.

Instructively, less than a week before the US trip, there was the AU/EU summit
between the AU leaders and their European Union counterparts in Lisbon,
Portugal. At the margin of the summit that ran between December 8 and 9, 2007,
Yar’Adua raised the issue of AFRICOM in his bilateral sessions with President
Thabo Mbeki of South Africa and John Kuffuor of Ghana, who was then the AU
chairman. While the leaders reiterated their resolve to oppose the move to
domicile AFRICOM on the shores of the continent, they were pragmatic enough
to realize that they still needed the logistics, funding and training that the
Americans could provide for the establishment of the AU Standby Force.

During the session with President Bush at the White House, the issue came up
again and the president rather cleverly repeated a position consistent with his
earlier agreement with other African leaders: the continent was ready to partner
with the US on AFRICOM as long as American troops would not be stationed
within the continent. “We shall partner with AFRICOM to assist not only
Nigeria, but also the African continent to actualize its peace and security
initiative, which is an initiative to help standby forces of brigade-size in each of
the regional economic groupings within the African continent,” he said in the
course of the joint media briefing.

The public was outraged, as that statement was interpreted to mean that the
president had reversed himself on the issue. A controversy had been born, so we
had to do damage control. The Hausa service of the Voice of America (VOA)
already had a scheduled interview. In the VOA session, Yar’Adua stressed that
he never gave the approval for the establishment of the US Africa Command
(AFRICOM) in the country.

President Yar’Adua explained that the assistance he sought was with regard to
logistics and training, stressing that at no time did he endorse the use of Africa as
a base for AFRICOM. “What we discussed with (President George) Bush is that
if they have something to do for Africa that has to do with peace and security,
they should contribute.

I told him that we African countries have our own plan to establish a joint
military command in every sub-region (as we) have in economic groupings.
“(America) should assist us, the African countries, with military weapons and
the training of our soldiers. Since they already have the AFRICOM, it is only
through it they should assist us in whatever way they can, especially in relation
to peace. I asked him that they should help those of us African countries in the
oil-rich Gulf of Guinea to establish a joint military command to protect the
territory. They should assist us to establish the military command and help us
with weapons and gadgets to monitor the happenings in the area.

“Therefore, it is a kind of cooperation, not for them to come and establish the
command.

This was what I also said back in Nigeria. I hope it is understood. Those who
reported the matter in the media or [are] making insinuations did not actually
understand what we said; they did not even wait to understand the kernel of the
discussion at the White House.”

President Yar’Adua later held meetings with the secretary of state, Condoleezza
Rice, and the assistant secretary of state for Africa, Jendayi Frazer, as a gesture
of reassurance that Nigeria remains committed to her relationship with the US.
However, by openly repudiating the idea of AFRICOM, Nigeria’s relationship
with the US on Yar’Adua’s watch had started on a very bad note. It was a
relationship that would remain at a less-than-inspiring note throughout his
tenure.

On the contrary, the relationship between Nigeria and China was rather cordial,
even when there was really no substance to it. With Nigeria’s huge population,
which offered them a market and the oil and gas potential, China embarked on a
deliberate strategy to make a friend of the country, and Nigeria reciprocated,
even if only symbolically. This fact obviously caught the attention of the United
States, and the state visit by the president to China in February 2008, which
showed clearly the importance in which China held Nigeria, merely confirmed
the budding Sino-Nigerian relationship.

In his meeting with President Hu, Yar’Adua spelt out the country’s request from
China in the form of massive investments to develop untapped but vast gas
reserves. “We know China can play a vital role here,” he told his host. “I am also
sure you are looking at what role Nigeria can play in providing energy security
for the People’s Republic of China.
We both have strategic interest in the gas. Nigeria needs domestic gas for power
and China needs LNG for your industries. I hope Chinese companies can get
involved in the on-going discussions.”

The president said that the kind of strategic partnership in power and energy as
well as in transport infrastructure that Nigeria was seeking was one that could
easily benefit China.

“My officials and some of our businessmen and bankers in my delegation have
had useful discussions with Chinese investors and [the] Chinese investment
bank, SinoSure, and I will plead that Mr. President put in some words for our
country. The direction we want to go is private-public partnership in which
Chinese investors would partner with their Nigerian counterparts to invest in
these strategic areas and recoup their investments within a certain period. In
Nigeria, we are already putting in place the necessary regulatory framework for
this arrangement.”

On China’s domestic politics, the president assured that “Nigeria is committed to

[the]

one-China policy. China is a very good friend of Nigeria and of Africa, and I
look forward to Mr. President bringing his influence to bear in helping to resolve
some of the problems we have in the continent, especially in Darfur.” The
Chinese president proposed the formation of a Nigeria-China Joint Commission
on trade and investment, the details of which he said could be worked out
through diplomatic channels. He also directed his minister of commerce to
follow up on the discussion with Chinese investors and investment banks. With
regard to Darfur, President Hu said China was ready to partner with the African
Union, United Nations and the Sudanese government to help bring a permanent
solution to the crisis.

Fielding questions from about 300 members of the China Council for the
Promotion of International Trade (CCPIT), Yar’Adua said no investor in Nigeria,
whether foreign or local, would be given preferential treatment over another.
“You asked whether your company would be granted preferential treatment in
Nigeria and my response to that is simple. I believe what you really mean is
whether we do give certain concessions to investors, and the answer is yes. The
concessions we give are on [a] sectoral basis, especially for pioneer businesses.
But we will not grant waivers or concessions to any investor on [a] preferential
basis.”

There was no doubt that the president believed it was in the strategic interest of
Nigeria to have a very cordial relationship with China, a conviction buoyed by
the realization that the country had a lot to offer Nigeria in terms of investment
in critical infrastructure.

There were several attempts along this direction, but at the end, most of the deals
fell through.

The relationship with China suffered a minor strain in 2008. The Anyiam
Osigwe family had invited the Dalai Lama as guest speaker for the annual
lecture that they hold in honour of their late patriarch, and the Chinese
authorities did not want him to be received in Nigeria. When representations to
the foreign affairs minister, Chief Ojo Maduekwe, failed, the Chinese foreign
minister wrote him a letter. Maduekwe’s response was that while Nigeria
remained a friend of China, such friendship does not preclude our country from
having a relationship with other interests. Ultimately, the matter reached the
president, and he sided with Maduekwe on the issue. And with that, the Dalai
Lama was received in Nigeria, to the displeasure of China.

As chairman of ECOWAS, the president had to deal with issues of democracy

and good governance within the sub-region, and he did all within his power to
decisively intervene in Niger Republic, where President Mamadou Tandja,
having amended the constitution, was trying to seek a third term after two terms
in office. He sent emissaries to Tandja, noting that whatever disturbed the peace
and stability of that neighbouring country would also affect Nigeria. He
appointed Gen. Abdulsalami Abubakar as ECOWAS facilitator; this choice was
also endorsed by the African Union.

Even though Tandja remained recalcitrant, at the end he was toppled.

The president indeed demonstrated his administration’s commitment to

democracy with the hard-line posture taken following the 2008 elections in
Zimbabwe that ended in controversy. At the AU 11th ordinary assembly held in
Egypt on July 1, 2008, foreign affairs minister, Ojo Maduekwe, said Nigeria’s
position was that “no African country should be allowed to use the fig leaf of
sovereignty to cover its nakedness on good governance and human rights issues,
including electoral integrity.” Having reviewed the findings of SADC on the
Zimbabwe presidential run-off elections held on June 27, 2008, which reported
politically motivated violence, intimidation and displacement on the part of the
Robert Mugabe regime, Nigeria was “of the view that the prevailing
environment impinged on the credibility of the electoral process, so the election
did not represent the will of the people of Zimbabwe.” According to Maduekwe,
Nigeria would not consider the outcome of the election, adjudged to have been
manipulated by incumbent Prime Minister Robert Mugabe, “as a basis for
moving forward.” Maduekwe also sounded a note of caution on what he
described as the ‘Kenyan contraption’, after a similar situation in Kenya in
which the incumbent refused to yield to the wishes of the people as expressed
with their votes.

Mugabe, quite naturally, felt angered by Nigeria’s remark and openly challenged
Maduekwe that he could not be speaking for Yar’Adua. But the minister’s
position was endorsed by the president.

While his health did not allow him to travel as much as he would have liked, if
there is anything that defined Yar’Adua’s vision of the continent, it was what he
said at the informal chat with African ambassadors in the course of his visit to
Brazil. The president had been received at the airport by all the African
ambassadors in the country, a gesture for which he felt deeply touched. It was
therefore fitting that he would host them to a session before we left for home
again. In the course of the interaction, he expressed his gratitude for what he
described as a show of solidarity and African brotherhood.

Speaking extempore, the president gave an inspiring speech, excerpted below: I

have no doubt in my mind that our continent is fully and ably represented in
Brazil, which is a regional leader in South America. I believe each one of you
represents not only your country but also the entire African continent. For that
reason, all of you must be current with events on the entire African continent
with respect to the interest of not only your country but of all countries in Africa.
I can see that this is evident in the very tradition you have established of meeting
with any African head of state who comes here so that you can discuss with him
and listen to him to give you briefs on the issues concerning the African
continent.

As all of you must be aware, we face similar challenges in Africa, as a result of

comparable historical experiences, which we have gone through in the last
century. You are aware several of our countries had to struggle and fight against
foreign domination in the past, yet half a century after independence, most of us
are still be-devilled by problems concerning peace, security and stability on our
continent. The African peer review mechanism is one of the things we have
evolved as a continent to ensure peace, stability and security. With that, is the
insistence now on constitutional democracy and abhorrence of changes in
government that are unconstitutional and violent in nature.

I think this is a major challenge on our continent today, and in Nigeria we have
been making efforts to put in place a stable political system anchored on free,
fair and acceptable elections. On the African continent over the last half a
century, we have had political instability and rapid change of governments
through unconstitutional means, and this has affected the efforts towards
sustainable development. We must ensure political stability so that we can plan
and implement policies and have continuity.

In Nigeria, for instance, since our independence in 1960, the year 2007 was the
first time we ever had a civilian to civilian political transition and a peaceful
change of power from a civil administration to another civil administration. So
far, we have enjoyed a decade of consistent stable civilian government from
1999 to 2009. Until now, that is something we [had] never achieved in the
country since our independence. This is why my administration has embarked on

[the] reform of our electoral process, so that we can have acceptable elections
that will form the basis for building trust in the system we are operating. We are
also making this effort at the sub-regional level. In Guinea Bissau where
elections just held, the run-off election went well and a winner is already being
declared.

But because of the challenges in the country, where vital institutions have broken
down, I am calling a donor roundtable on Guinea Bissau in Abuja when I get
back, to ensure that we are able to get funds to assist the government to carry out
institutional and security reforms as well as the economic investment that is
required for the government to stabilize and for the regime to solve the problems
of security and economic challenges. And in the Republic of Guinea Conakry,
we have been talking with the administration of Captain Kamara, and we have
insisted that elections be held by the end of this year.

At the stakeholders’ conference of ECOWAS, Africa Union and EU on Guinea

Conakry, we are prepared to carry out a credible election for the military to hand
over power by the end of this year. Once that is done, we will do the same thing
with regard to building institutions by calling another donor roundtable to enable
them [to] consolidate the gains of this stable political system in the country.

We are also talking to President Laurent Gbagbo of Cote d’Ivoire to hold a

credible election by the end of this year. If we are able to achieve this, we would
have achieved our goal of ensuring political stability and putting a stable
democratic system not only in Nigeria but throughout the West African sub-
region. But we are also having an emerging issue in Niger Republic, where the
president will finish his second term, which is the constitutional limit, by
December this year. But efforts are being made to extend his stay, in the first
instance by three years, to 2012 and then subsequently on a sit-tight basis.

I have sent a delegation from ECOWAS to talk to President Tandja to have a

rethink. We have also sent a joint delegation of ECOWAS, African Union, EU,
and UN, but there seems to be no positive response. As soon as I get back to
Abuja, I will invite President Tandja to come to Abuja because we need political
stability, peace and security for us to pay attention to issues of development,
education, human development and the other many challenges facing us.

These efforts are also being replicated at the African Union level to ensure that
within this decade we achieve total political stability in Africa so that the entire
continent can focus its attention on developmental issues.

During our last two summits, we placed much emphasis on integrating African
economies, taking cognizance of the fact that the economic ties between
individual African nations with their old colonial masters are much stronger than
the ties between ourselves, even in terms of movement of people. You find, for
example, in Nigeria that you can’t fly to Niger Republic, which is our neighbour;
you have to go through Europe before you can get to Niger, and in a lot of
African countries this is the case. So we need continent-wide infrastructure that
will integrate our people, and we need structures that will ensure free movement
of our people within the continent, structures that will ensure that we have a
common market and we move towards assisting one another economically.

On this we have decided to work together with our partners in the developed
world. We appreciate all their efforts, they may help with aids and grants, but
clearly, only we in Africa can solve our problems for ourselves. Our salvation is
in our hands. For our economy to develop, we must put in place critical
infrastructure, like power and energy as well as transport, that will ensure mass
movement of goods and people. We need railways, waterways and good
interconnected road networks. In Nigeria we are aware of all these challenges,
and that is one of the reasons we introduced Vision 20-2020, and we have
identified seven critical areas of infrastructure which we call the seven-point
agenda that will enable the nation [to] accomplish this objective.

While we work on these plans, we are also conscious of our responsibilities to

our other African countries. For instance, in our national gas master plan, we
have also included the West African gas pipeline, which is now being
constructed from Nigeria to Benin, Togo and Ghana, and we have plans to
extend it up to as far as Senegal. And we have just signed an agreement, and we
are signing other agreements and launching, by next year, the Trans Sahara gas
pipeline project, which will essentially go through Niger, Algeria and Europe,
and in that way, it can branch to other African countries, which will be required
to provide one of the sources [for] solving our energy problem.

Nigeria, we have realized, is more a gas nation than an oil nation, but for several
years, this potential has been untapped. But now we are investing in gas, where
we have a reserve of about 183 trillion cubic feet. That is the direction we are
going, but as we go into the gas area, we want to avoid all the mistakes we made
with regard to our crude oil exploitation, and that is why we are reforming the
entire sector. That will benefit not only our country, but the entire continent
when we finish with our plans because we want a network of gas pipelines not
only to the developed world but also to several African countries.

Even though it was an informal session, and the president had no prepared text,
the foregoing response to the issues raised by the African ambassadors
encapsulated his thoughts on what he envisioned for Nigeria and the continent of
Africa. But a major battle he had to confront was his health, a battle that he
ultimately lost.

Unfulfilled Dreams

One of the issues Yar’Adua was very passionate about was land reform, which
had been designed to overhaul the over three-decade-long Land Use Act, which
asserts that land belongs to the government.

Very early in his administration, the president had engaged Akin Mabogunje, a
professor of Geography and the foremost Nigerian expert on urbanization. It is
instructive to digress here to state that Mabogunje was one of a few people for
whom the president had tremendous respect. He would later give the reason
without any prompting: “You know why I like that old man (Mabogunje): he is
one of a few people who have never sought a personal favour from me. Every
time he comes here, all he discusses with me are issues concerning the country,
and if I don’t send for him, he won’t make an appointment to see me.”

The president had charged the Mabogunje committee with the responsibility of
providing technical assistance to states and local governments to ensure that land
cadastral boundaries and title holdings are demarcated in such a way that a
community, hamlet, village or town would be recognizable. The committee was
also to make recommendations for the establishment of a national depository for
land title holding and records in all states of the federation and the Federal
Capital Territory, as well as make recommendations for the establishment of a
mechanism for land valuation in all parts of the country.

Land reform, when successfully implemented the way it was envisioned by

Yar’Adua, will have a positive and direct impact on economic growth, food
security and poverty reduction in Nigeria. The bill, when passed, will liberalize
land administration and remove the legal encumbrances that restrict the
transformation of land into capital assets that can be used to advance agricultural
production and mortgages.

To fast-track the process, the Federal Land Information System (FELIS) was
established in 2008 with a linked network to the field headquarters of the
Ministry of Works and Housing. Already, the FELIS database can be accessed
from any part of the world, and this will make tracking of land transactions at the
federal level easier. Unfortunately, even with all these efforts, precious time was
lost, to the extent that by the time the bill would get to the National Assembly,
the president’s health had so deteriorated that there could be no follow up.
Ironically, this was an issue on which he had invested a lot of time and energy.

Perhaps the most painful aspect of the cost of the president’s health can,
however, be glimpsed in the government’s deregulation attempt. The federal
government had, in February 2009, endorsed the full deregulation of the
downstream sector of the petroleum industry following the recommendations
presented by the Presidential Steering Committee on the global economic crisis,
which submitted that what the nation had been subsidizing to the tune of an
estimated N1.63 trillion were inefficiencies, fraud and racketeering in the whole
production chain.

To muster an unassailable national consensus in support of this new policy

philosophy, President Yar’Adua had asked the Nigerian Labour Congress (NLC)
and the Trade Union Congress (TUC) to send in one nominee each for
membership of this committee, which he chaired. Their inclusion was to
facilitate a mutually beneficial exchange of views among government, Labour
and the private sector operators on the issue.

After several meetings, a subcommittee, headed by Governor Isa Yuguda of

Bauchi State, was constituted to agree on the final details with Labour with
regard to the deregulation of the downstream sector of the petroleum industry. I
was appointed as the representative of the president on the subcommittee.
Incidentally, it was Edo State governor, Comrade Adams Oshiomhole, whom the
president actually nominated to chair the subcommittee, but he declined on the
point of principle as a former Labour leader who had led nationwide strikes on
the issue of deregulation. He nonetheless promised to assist, and he did.

Against the background that successive administrations had made futile efforts
to remove the rent element associated with the downstream sector of the
petroleum industry, we felt that the best approach was to put out all the facts in
the negotiations with Labour, which involved the finance minister, director of
budget, group managing director of NNPC, executive secretary of PPPRA and
heads of other related agencies of government. While the negotiations were
difficult, given that Labour had an ideological opposition to any regime of
market deregulation, it was very clear that not only was the arithmetic in favour
of what the president intended to do, what subsisted was a regime of fraud that
was unsustainable. It was also clear that the existing refineries would never
work, and no new one would be built until all the distortions and racketeering
associated with the market had been removed.

The conclusion from all our sessions with Labour was that they were willing to
reach a compromise if they could see clear plans for improving the lot of the
workers from the savings that would be made and with a timeline and
programme of activities leading to the building of new refineries that would stop
the import of PMS.

They were also ready to work with the government on a number of palliative
measures.

Given the huge market that we have within our country, and also considering the
fact that our supply outlets feed the sub-region through smuggling, investors
were interested in building refineries in Nigeria if the conditions were right.

When Labour saw the compelling arguments, negotiations moved to stage two,
in which the president had to personally engage their leaders as a confidence-
building measure. He held meetings with Comrade Abdulwaheed Umar, Peter
Esele, and Comrade John Odah to secure their buy-in. Even though they still felt
uncomfortable with the idea of deregulation and were suspicious of
government’s intention, their stance was not as uncompromising as it used to be
in the past: they moved from a posture of no deregulation to that of conditional
support.

With this, it was decided that we could take the gamble, as Ajumogobia
continued to dialogue with Labour. Deregulation was supposed to commence on
November 1, 2009, before it was shifted to begin after the FIFA Under-17 World
Cup tournament being hosted by Nigeria scheduled to end on November 16.
Unfortunately, by then, the president was spending what would turn out to be
effectively his last week in office, as he left Nigeria on November 23 for Saudi
Arabia. Today, the nation continues to lose hundreds of billions of naira annually
on ‘subsidy’, money that largely swells the purse of high-profile rent seekers in
the downstream sector of the oil industry and their collaborators in government.

Food security, one of the cardinal principles in his seven-point agenda, was
another area where President Yar’Adua came with lofty ideas but achieved
mixed results. His desire was to intervene in such a manner as to fully harness
the agricultural potentials of the country not only for food sufficiency but also
for job creation.

With that in mind, the Federal Ministry of Agriculture and Water Resources
under Dr.

Abba Sayid Ruma launched key interventions in certain critical areas, aimed at
enhancing farmers’ access to quality and affordable agricultural inputs. The new
approach, driven by a value-chain perspective advocated comprehensive and
concentrated attention to every component of the agriculture in certain areas:

I. N200bn commercial agriculture credit scheme: This concessionary credit

scheme was designed to solve one of the major problems of commercial farming
in Nigeria: lack of credit facilities. Five banks were designated by the CBN to
disburse to large-scale farmers who meet the requirements; state governments
were to disburse to small-scale farmers.

II. 20 silos and warehousing complexes: The silos were designed to serve
multiple purposes, including storage, cleaning/standardization, market outlet,
and transport corridor to the market. 20 of such are being built in the various
grain centres in the country. Combined, the silos were also to add 1,025,000
metric tonnes of storage capacity to the present 300, 000 metric tonnes in the
country.

III. One-stop agro-input centres: These were designed to serve as one-stop

shops where farmers could purchase high-grade agricultural inputs such as
seedlings, fertilizers, animal feeds, agro-chemicals, and tractors. Each centre was
to have the capacity to store up to 2,000 metric tonnes of input.

IV. Integrated livestock estates: These estates were to provide integrated

infrastructure for the development of the livestock sub-sector and its relevant
value chain. The livestock estates will include grazing areas, covered and open
pens, dairy processing plants, abattoirs, leather treatment centres and modern
meat supermarkets. These will be built in eight states in the country, and are
expected to commence operations by 2010.

V. Integrated fish estates: These fish estates are designed to provide integrated
infrastructure for the development of the fishery sub-sector and its relevant value
chain.

The fishery estates will include ponds, hatcheries, processing plants, training
centres, feed mills, laboratories, cold stores and marketing centres. The estates
will be built in eight states in the country.

VI. Commodity out-growers development and extension service centres:

These centres were to incentivize the growth of large-scale agric business as well
as create a new generation of farmers in Nigeria. They were to be built around
the dormant river-basin assets and will include farmers’ markets, processing and
storage facilities, water for irrigation and power generation, and facilities for
housing and training up to 2,000

extension workers.

VII. Export handling, preservation and conditioning centres: These centres

were designed to reduce post-harvest losses and ensure that agricultural products
from Nigeria can compete well in the international market. Facilities in these
centres will include washing, drying and storage chambers, sorting, grading and
packaging facilities, storage crate handling and cargo facilities and temperature
and humidity control facilities.

The foregoing were some of the designs for the agricultural sector, but I couldn’t
ascertain the level of implementation with regard to these policies.

The power sector is another area where Yar’Adua could not deliver. He had
promised to declare emergency in the sector within the first 100 days, but he
never did. The story began in his third week in office, when Mr. Joseph Majoku,
retained as special adviser on power from the preceding administration, gave a
presentation on the true state of the sector, especially with regard to how far
behind Nigeria was. In his narrative, he said power generation capacity in Iran
and Nigeria had both been at the same level in 1970, but as at 2007, Iran, with a
population of 70 million, had achieved a power generation capacity of 42,000
megawatts. South Africa presented another example. Whereas South Africa
distributed an average of 800 watts per person, in 2007, it was 30 watts per
person in Nigeria.

According to Makoju, it would take 104,000 megawatts of electricity for Nigeria

to match South Africa in per capita terms, and it would require about $90 billion
to do so.

His comparison of Nigeria with smaller African countries was even more
damning: “On a per capita basis, Senegal, Zambia, Ghana, Kenya, Gabon,
Algeria, Libya, Mozambique and Cameroon (and several less endowed nations)
were generating more electricity than Nigeria!”

This was the dire situation Yar’Adua met when he assumed office in 2007. It
must be noted, however, that given the grim situation he himself inherited in
1999, Obasanjo should indeed be commended for unilaterally using the excess
crude sales account (which belonged to the three tiers of government) to pay for
the investment in the power sector.

But such an act was difficult for Yar’Adua to follow, having publicly announced
a commitment to the rule of law. With the governors threatening court action,
and given the Supreme Court ruling on Lagos State vs Federal Government on
the withheld local government funds, the president was advised that unilaterally
taking money from the excess crude account was not sustainable and would
backfire.

What Yar’Adua therefore decided to do, and ultimately did, was to get the states
to secure the approval of their respective houses of assembly while also seeking
the approval of the National Assembly for a special dispensation on power. The
process, akin to a constitutional amendment, was eventually completed after he
had secured the buy-in of the governors. With the legal instrument for the
sustainable funding of the power projects, a steering committee was set up with
then Vice President Goodluck Jonathan as chairman. Other members included
six governors to represent their respective colleagues in the geopolitical zones.
The attorney general and minister of justice, secretary to the government of the
federation, the ministers of power, the minister of finance, the chief economic
adviser to the president, BPE and NDPHC were also members of the committee.

This committee determined the amount needed to complete the projects, which it
placed before the National Economic Council for the FGN and the states to
jointly approve as the money was to come from the states’ and local
governments’ share of the excess crude sales account.

The fact that not much attention was paid to gas at the initial conception of the
NIPP
perhaps accounted for a situation in which not all the available turbines could be
operational, either because the pipelines conveying the gas were too small to
deliver what was needed to power the plants, or the gas available was less than
what was actually needed. There were also cases where the available gas was too
wet, thus necessitating frequent shut downs as was (and may still be) the case
with the Egbin Power Plant.

With the benefit of hindsight, perhaps the investment to increase the availability
and quality of gas ought to have preceded the NIPP contracts. At the end,
Yar’Adua failed to achieve any set targets on power.

Notwithstanding, there were a couple of things the president did for which he
will be remembered. One important legacy of the Yar’Adua administration is the
dredging of the lower River Niger, 43 years after the idea was first conceived.
When completed, this project, which covers 572 kilometres, will ensure all-year
round navigation of the River Niger, providing a more attractive, cheaper and
safer means for hauling goods. It will also engender linkages and promote
commerce and trade between communities and peoples of the eight adjoining
states, awakening the full potential of the hitherto comatose inland shipping
maritime sub-sector.

Thanks to the vision of Yar’Adua, the cotton, garment and textiles (CTG)
scheme is also becoming an evolving success story. In January 2011, Nigeria’s
biggest textile conglomerate, UNT Plc. re-opened to business after a decade of
closure. In one fell swoop, about 2,000 staff members were reportedly recalled
out of its sacked work force. I recall all the meetings the president held on the
issue before the sum of N100 billion was raised by the Debt Management Office
through a bond issue.

The CTG scheme was designed as a major poverty alleviation strategy. The
resuscitation of cotton farming and textile production will ultimately put about a
million cotton farmers back to work in the cotton-producing belt of the country,
whose means of livelihood disappeared with the closure of textile and ginning
industries largely in Kaduna, Lagos and Aba.

Convinced of the need to properly channel resources in the education sector, the
president also changed the mandate of the Education Trust Fund (ETF) to target
tertiary education rather than what obtained in the past, where the money was
deployed to all strata of education in a manner that made it ineffectual.

It is also to Yar’Adua’s credit that he introduced the tenure system for permanent
secretaries and directors in the civil service to arrest succession crises, create
vacancies, reinvigorate the system, boost the morale of qualified and deserving
officers as well as unlock the potential of creative and hardworking ones.

While he pursued all these ideas, his fragile health became a serious distraction.
From the outset of the administration, critical meetings were routinely cancelled,
most often at the last minute, because the president was not in the right frame of
health to attend. Several Federal Executive Council (FEC) sessions were also
held with his chair vacant. Indeed, with time, the vacant chair of the president
within the Aso Council chambers became a metaphor for the administration. It
was therefore fitting that following the National Assembly resolution that
elevated Vice President Goodluck Jonathan to the position of acting president on
February 8, 2010, that vacant chair would symbolize the beginning of the power
struggle that ended only with Yar’Adua’s death on May 5, 2010. But the tragic
saga actually began in April 2008.

Part II
Illness & Death

“I am a normal human being who can fall sick,

who can recover, who can die.”

–Umaru Musa Yar’Adua,

Financial Times (interview), May 20, 2008

10
The Early Signals…

Although hardly ever ready on schedule, it was no less alarming when, as of late
March, the 2008 Appropriation Bill had yet to be signed into law. The reason for
the delay this time arose from a disagreement between the president and the
National Assembly over the powers of the legislature in relation to the budgeting
process. There was therefore understandable anxiety within the polity, especially
as it emerged that President Yar’Adua was somewhat reluctant to sign the budget
over what he saw as the extreme meddlesomeness of the lawmakers.

The president’s resolve was further strengthened by a meeting held on April 3,

2008, at the villa, which reviewed and subsequently endorsed his decision to
challenge the powers of the National Assembly at the Supreme Court. In
attendance at the meeting were attorney general of the federation and justice
minister, Mr. Michael Aondoakaa; minister of finance, Dr. Shamsudeen Usman;
national planning minister, Senator Sanusi Dagash; chief economic adviser, Mr.
Tanimu Yakubu Kurfi; director general of the Bureau of Public Procurement,
Eng. Emeka Ezeh; national security adviser, Major General Sarki Muktah;
director general, Budget Office, Dr. Bright Okogu and the State House
permanent secretary, Mr. Steve Oronsaye.

The main contention was that a review of the 2008 Appropriation Act as passed
by the National Assembly revealed that the legislators had virtually rewritten the
budget not only by jacking up their own figures but also by introducing several
clauses in contravention of the principle of separation of powers. There were, of
course, other areas of disagreement, and the meeting created an opportunity for
the major issues to be outlined. In summary, the legislators unilaterally initiated
projects for which they provided money without any input from the executive,
which ordinarily should design, cost, execute and supervise such projects.

The president was indeed curious as to how the costs were determined, given the
sheer scale of projects added. In the Budget Office’s reckoning, the figures were
anything but reliable. To the president, the legislators’ actions made a mockery
of the entire budgetary process and were clearly antithetical to the principle of
transparency and accountability.

The meeting over, he asked the AGF to outline the issues for which he would
seek judicial interpretation at the Supreme Court, which seemed to be the logical
step since all the dialogue sessions held with the Assembly leadership had failed
to yield any positive result. To that end, the Justice Ministry came up with the
following issues for determination by the Supreme Court:

Whether the National Assembly, in the exercise of its constitutional power to

approve the yearly budget estimates submitted to it by the executive, can

• unilaterally increase the revenue benchmark beyond what was provided in the
budget estimates presented to it by the president;

• unilaterally write into the budget heads of expenditure and appropriate money
on those heads of expenditure that were not provided for by the budget estimates
submitted by the president;

• unilaterally insert into the budget projects not included by the executive and
proceed to appropriate money beyond the estimates submitted by the president;

• under the presidential system of government, whittle down the powers of the
executive president by compelling officers of the executive branch to report
directly to them on matters such as provided under the appropriation bill.

Before the suit could, however, be filed at the Supreme Court, there was a
further appeal to dialogue, after the finance minister’s counsel that the president
should seek another session with the Assembly leadership. Usman, who had
frequent interactions with the lawmakers, knew they would perceive the court
option as a declaration of war and would fight back. So, the option taken at the
earlier meeting, that of going to court, was not one with which he was
comfortable. At his instance, another meeting between the president and the
leadership of the National Assembly was scheduled on the night of April 3,
2008.

With no apparent resolution at the meeting, the president hinted that the crisis
was better resolved by the Supreme Court. The legislators thought it was a bluff;
but once they realized he was serious, there were subtle threats that the Supreme
Court option would not work. Their position was simple but no less grim: if they
were served any notice to that effect, their lawyers would require ample time for
response. And since it was already April, they said, chances were that there
might not be a budget for the year.

Members of the House in the delegation were particularly hostile. They argued
that since the powers of the president to authorize spending was ordinarily lost
by the end of June (barely two months from the meeting date), a constitutional
crisis was inevitable if he pursued the Supreme Court option. In the end, it was
pragmatism that prevailed. There was a compromise that the president should
sign the bill as passed, after which the act would be sent back for amendment. It
was on this basis that I briefed the media to the effect that the president would
sign the 2008 Appropriation Bill.

I, however, stated very clearly that Yar’Adua’s formal assent to the bill as passed
was with the firm understanding that all contentious sections would be reviewed
subsequently, in line with the agreement reached at a meeting with the National
Assembly leadership. The grounds on which the president had previously
withheld his assent remained valid, I explained, but added that he would
continue to work for a proper understanding of the lawful roles of the executive
and legislative arms of the government in preparation, passage and
implementation of the budget. “While he will continue to give due regard to the
prerogatives granted the National Assembly by the 1999

Constitution, President Yar’Adua insists that the provisions of the constitution,

including those guiding the appropriation and expenditure of public funds, must
be properly applied at all times in the interest of good governance and the
national well-being,” I said.

Everything was therefore set for the signing of the budget on April 12, 2008, but
early that morning, I got a call from the CSO that I had to come to the villa. On
arrival at the residence, I saw the president exiting his study, and I almost did not
recognize him. His entire face had swollen to the extent that he could barely see.

The problem, from what the doctor told me, began the previous week, when the
president started taking some malaria drugs that had been prescribed for him. A
few days after it was noticed that there was scarcely any improvement, another
medication was recommended. But while it brought the needed relief from the
malaria, it unleashed an allergic reaction that manifested in the form of a swollen
face.

The chief of staff, General Mohammed, who had been with the president from
the night before also recounted how dramatic the development had been. He said
that before the president had taken the prescribed drug, he had actually hinted
that he was allergic to it, but the doctors had said it was not the same drug. But
not more than a few minutes after taking the medication, his face began to swell
up. By Sunday night, the situation had deteriorated, necessitating a visit to the
National Hospital, where the chief medical director, Dr. Olusegun Ajuwon, and a
team of experts were waiting. Notwithstanding their efforts, the president was
evidently in very bad shape on April 12, 2008.

The budget signing was fixed for 10:00 a.m., and some correspondents had
started arriving in the villa. Meanwhile, efforts were being made to secure
German visas for the security men and a few aides, including myself. For me,
there was a big dilemma: how would the president sign the budget without being
exposed to the public in the state he was in? I asked the chief of staff whether the
budget could be assented to without any ceremony, but he said the convention
required that there be witnesses, in which case the National Assembly’s principal
officers had to be present. This information would be instructive in December
2009 when the supplementary budget had to be signed at a Saudi hospital with
no witnesses.

Back in April 2008, it was a big challenge. After a meeting comprising the CSO,
the ADC, the chief of staff and me, we agreed that the budget would be signed at
the dining table at the residence but with no media presence. We also decided
that only the Senate president, the House of Representatives Speaker and the
special adviser on National Assembly, Mrs. Florence Ita-Giwa, would be
present. I felt uncomfortable with the decision to black out the media, but chose
not to argue my case at that point because I knew it was inconceivable that I
could win such a debate. It was a matter I knew I had to take up privately with
the chief of staff.

By 10:00 a.m., many government officials from the Budget Office, Finance
Ministry and National Planning Commission had arrived in the Council
chambers and were all waiting for the president. They had to be quietly
dispersed with the explanation that the ceremony would no longer hold at the
venue and at that time.

With me walking back and forth between my office and the residence, the CSO
so casually dressed and the ADC in mufti, it wasn’t long before everybody in the
villa sensed that something was amiss. While the reporters pressed for
information about when the budget would be signed, all I could do was plead for
their patience while reassuring them that the ceremony would hold that day.
They had by then received information that the president was ill, but putting off
the signing till later in the day was based on the doctor’s advice that the swelling
would reduce. That was actually the case.

At about 2:00 p.m., the president’s face had experienced a bit of improvement.

Emboldened, we felt the Senate president and the speaker could be invited to the
residence. At that point, I told the chief of staff that there was no way the
president could sign the Appropriation Bill into law without a photograph of the
event. I insisted that I would bring in the official photographer and the NTA
camera man, but explained that the shots would be taken from a sideways angle
that would not reveal the president’s face.

It was a challenge selling the CSO on that point. But he would later acquiesce,
so I brought in the NTA cameraman, Mohammed Adamu, and the photographer,
Kola Osiyemi. Before the president came out of the study to the dining table
where the ceremony was to hold, we had scrupulously rehearsed where the
camera would be positioned and how the shots would be taken, and were thus
convinced we could successfully pull it off. With the arrival of Senator Ita-Giwa,
Senate president David Mark, and the House of Representatives deputy Speaker,
Bayero Nafada, as witnesses, the budget was eventually signed at 4:00 p.m.

Before proceeding to the airport, I scrutinized all the shots and selected the one I
considered the best for publication in the newspapers and that was what I sent
out. I also watched the NTA clips to ensure there were no embarrassing takes. At
the airport, the NTA cameraman took his shots from a distance so that he
captured the president as he ascended the steps and waved before entering the
aircraft. Meanwhile, when I announced earlier in the day that the budget had
been signed, I also stated that “the president will leave for Wiesbaden, Germany,
later today (Monday) to see his private physicians for a medical review of an
indisposition believed to be due to an allergic reaction.” When we eventually got
to Germany that night, the condition of the president had improved remarkably,
and his face was actually coming back to normal. So we simply drove straight to
the hotel, and it was only the next morning that he checked into the hospital.

Four days later, I went to see him at the hospital, accompanied by the ADC. He
was sitting alone on a chair and looked very tired. He was happy nonetheless to
see us and asked questions about events back home, but after about 30 minutes
we left him and headed back to the hotel. The next day, Friday, he was
discharged, and he came back to the hotel. The media back home was already
awash with speculations about the state of his health. So, the expectation that we
would soon be going home gave me some sense of relief. But I was soon to be
disappointed.

The disappointment came later that evening when I inquired about our return
date and Dr.

Banye appeared uncertain. The medical process had yet to be concluded, as the
president would be returning to the hospital two days later to prepare for further
tests, he told me.

On Sunday, the president left the hotel again, this time for a hospital in Frankfurt
for another test before he returned to the Wiesbaden hospital. It was there he
went through what was described as a ‘minor surgery’ the next day.
My dilemma grew worse. Given that by Saturday I had told Nigerians through
an interview I granted the News Agency of Nigeria (NAN) that the president
would be returning home, I was now under intense pressure since I could no
longer confirm with certainty the date of his return to Nigeria. A few aides of the
First Lady informed me she had issues with my interview, especially the fact that
I had set a date for the president’s return, but our paths never quite crossed. Even
though we were on the same floor in the hotel, I never ventured into her room
since she did not ask for me.

To make up for the absence of the president, however, I seized every opportunity
for him to appear to dispel any untoward rumour. First, I learnt that Chief Gani
Fawehinmi, who had been diagnosed with cancer at a UK hospital, was about to
clock 70. I quickly called Kayode Komolafe, my former colleague at THISDAY,
to give me Gani’s London number. I also discussed with the CSO and ADC what
I planned to do in order to preempt any opposition: I wanted the president to call
Gani and congratulate him on his birthday. I eventually succeeded in getting him
to make the call and that played well in the media back home—but only for a
few days.

Relief came when, after almost two weeks, the president was discharged from
the hospital. A date was thus set for his return. But the politicians turned his
arrival into a carnival with several governors and top public officials converging
at the airport to receive him. Back at the villa, it was very evident that a lot of
things would change, and it did not take long for that to unfold. There were
speculations then that aside from his kidney problems, the president had been
diagnosed with lung cancer. It was mere speculation, which nobody could
confirm, but it was evident that the health report had not been positive.

Whatever might have been the information from the German hospital, it was also
very clear that some warnings had been given on the president’s work schedules.
The First Lady accused Inuwa Baba, a long time associate of the family, of
always bringing people to see the president at odd hours. She read the riot act to
other aides, spelling out rules that would reduce the number of people seeing the
president after office hours and the time after which nobody should be allowed
to come to the residence.

The first thing I noticed when we returned was that the president, who was
usually down at his study as early as 8:30 a.m. now began to surface there
between 10:00 a.m. and 11:00 a.m., sometimes even as late as noon. Although he
now seldom got to the office early, he tried to make up for it by closing late.
There were days when we would still be in the office at 10:00 p.m.
Unfortunately, it was at that most vulnerable period in his life and presidency
that some people close to him would connive to get rid of the chief of staff,
General Abdullahi Mohammed, who had not only been a shield to the president,
but someone who had the capacity to really help him.

A tested administrator with incredible energy, Mohammed was in his office as

early as 7:00 a.m. and would not leave until after midnight. With his experience
as a retired major general, the founding director general of the National Security
Organisation (NSO) who had later broken into State Security Service and the
National Intelligence Agency (NIA), and as a former military governor,
Mohammed’s experience and exposure were invaluable. He had also served as
national security adviser and was for eight years the chief of staff to Obasanjo’s
government. He helped to stabilize the Yar’Adua government at the initial stage
while also shielding the president from what was initially becoming an
overbearing influence on the part of Obasanjo. One story that the president
himself recounted was how he (Mohammed) had saved him from committing
political suicide just to please his predecessor on the day the PDP had held their
convention to pick the national chairman.

Because the governors had rejected the aspiration of the former Ebonyi State
governor, Dr. Sam Egwu, on account of the fact that Obasanjo had proclaimed
him publicly as his anointed, there was pressure on Yar’Adua to endorse Chief
Anyim Pius Anyim, but he refused. He believed Egwu was the best man for the
job, and didn’t think he should be jettisoned on account of Obasanjo’s open
endorsement. At the last meeting he held with representatives of the governors,
his message was clear: Please don’t back Anyim. The former Senate president
had fallen out publicly with Obasanjo, and his election as PDP

chairman would have sent a wrong signal about the relationship between the
president and his predecessor. Because of this, the night before the convention,
the governors met and decided that they would instead back Chief Vincent
Ogbulafor as opposed to Anyim, who was initially favoured by many of them.

On the day of the convention, the emir of Katsina died, and Yar’Adua decided he
would witness the burial, so the plan was for us to spend about an hour at Eagles
Square and then sneak out to Katsina. Just as we were about to leave the villa for
the convention venue, Obasanjo drove in. He went into the study with Yar’Adua
to plead that the convention be postponed till evening, even though people were
already gathered at Eagles Square.

Since the governors had rejected Egwu and he opposed the idea of Ogbulafor,
Obasanjo came up with his idea of a compromise. He wanted the president to
endorse the foreign affairs minister, Chief Ojo Maduekwe, for the party
chairmanship. The president wondered how that could possibly be done since
Maduekwe had not collected the nomination form to be chairman. Obasanjo said
it was possible. At the point when the president was about to buckle under the
pressure, Mohammed burst in: “Mr. President, you have to start going to Eagle
Square now. You cannot continue to keep the people waiting—”

An apparently angry Obasanjo shouted, “Please, please, please….” But this only
stiffened Mohammed, who laughed before telling the president, “Don’t let this
old man mislead you, its time you left the villa.” That was how the conversation
ended, but the president himself would later tell me that but for Mohammed, he
would have succumbed to Obasanjo’s idea, even though he had thought that it
would not work. It was this same Mohammed against whom some conspired to
oust from the villa.

While there were those close to the president who felt that General Mohammed
was ‘an Obasanjo man’, his main foe was Chief James Ibori, the former Delta
State governor, who saw the chief of staff as the godfather of the EFCC
chairman, Nuhu Ribadu, with whom he was fighting a battle.

Ibori made no pretensions about the fact that I was also becoming an obstacle
because I was perceived as Mohammed’s ally, which wasn’t entirely wrong.
After a public spat between us at the villa where he openly accused me of
running a smear campaign against him, I went to his house to ascertain what his
misgivings about me were. He told me without mincing words that he wanted
the chief of staff removed because he (Mohammed) no longer had any business
being at the villa. His next comment was just as brusque and cold: “Look Segun,
you know you were not supposed to get this job, but the president insisted it was
you he wanted, but now that you are here, you think you can play politics. Let
me warn you, I have been playing the villa game since the Abacha days, so don’t
mess with me. Be careful,” he warned. By defending the man in the media, I was
risking my own job too.

Ibori was not alone in the plot to oust Mohammed. I knew that the Kwara State
governor, Dr. Bukola Saraki, also felt this way. Whereas Saraki’s stand could be
excused as the seldom palatable fall-out of local politics (since, like him,
Mohammed is also from Ilorin), Ibori’s belligerence on the matter was puzzling.
Yet Ibori carried out his plot surreptitiously and with cold efficiency.

As that went on, it was easy for me to see that the bond of trust between the
president and the chief of staff had been broken. There were rumours that the
office would be scrapped, with all kinds of inferences as to how the villa would
be run. Ordinarily, I should have been happy, because I was told by those
courting my support that we would have a new structure that would free me from
all unnecessary bureaucracy and make me subject to no one in the villa except
the president and VP. I didn’t believe it at the time, but that was exactly what
eventually happened. But even if I had believed it, I knew for sure that any
arrangement that would lead to Mohammed’s exit from the villa would be
catastrophic for the country and the president himself. My conviction would turn
out to be prescient, and I had reasons to believe the president later regretted his
action, but by then it was far too late.

Shortly before the Federal Executive Council meeting adjourned for break on
August 20, 2008, the president informed members that he would be travelling to
Saudi Arabia later that day to perform the lesser hajj (umrah). He said he would
leave the council chambers by lunch break (1:30 p.m.) and that when it
reconvened by 2:30, the VP would be presiding.

I had been informed days earlier about the trip, including the fact that the
president would return on Sunday, August 24 because we were scheduled to
travel to Brazil on Tuesday, August 26 on a state visit. I was not on the Saudi trip
—the first time I would be left out of a foreign trip—but I considered going to
the country more a religious voyage than an official one, so it really didn’t
bother me.

The days preceding the trip saw some changes in the armed forces. Then, both
the chief of defence staff, General Andrew Azazi and the chief of naval staff,
Admiral Ganiyu Adekeye, were already due for retirement. By their service
record, they ought to have left by December 2007. While there was a lobby to
have their tenure extended, the situation was not helped by the fact that the top
echelon of the army was already divided between loyalists of Azazi and those of
then army chief, Lt. General Luka Yusuf. To compound the situation, the name
of the erstwhile chief of army staff, Lt. General Agwai, who was then heading
the UN military mission in Darfur, was also being added to the mix. Yusuf was
said to have the tacit backing of Agwai.

As the president prepared for the trip to Saudi Arabia for umrah, there was
pressure on him to make the changes within the armed forces before leaving on
Wednesday, August 20. Later in the afternoon, he invited the service chiefs to a
meeting at his residence, during which he told them he would be making some
changes. Having thanked them for their services, he directed that they go and
hold a meeting with the minister of defence, Ahmed Yayale.

Owing to a controversial act of the National Assembly that stipulated that

appointment of service chiefs be cleared, the president had instructed Yayale to
meet with the Senate president and the House of Representatives Speaker before
I could make the announcement. Ordinarily, I should accompany the president to
the airport, but I had to wait to coordinate with Yayale, who was to notify me the
moment he got the green light from both the Speaker and the Senate president.

By 5:00 p.m., I made the announcement that the president had approved the
appointment of Air Marshall Paul Dike as chief of defence staff, to take over
from Azazi, who was retiring from service. I added that he had also approved the
appointment of Major General A. B. Dambazzau as chief of army staff in place
of Luka Yusuf. Other changes approved by the president in the command
structure of the armed forces that I announced included the appointment of Rear
Admiral Isaiah Iko Ibrahim as chief of naval staff to succeed Adekeye, who
retired from active service. After listing all the appointments, I concluded by
saying that the president “left Abuja this evening to perform the lesser hajj in
Saudi Arabia.”

The changes in the armed forces deflected public attention from the fact that the
president had travelled out of the country. But that only bought us some days as
saharareporters soon reported that the president had gone to Saudi Arabia for
medicals and not for umrah.

Initially, my response was one of contempt for the story, but when on Saturday I
confirmed that the president would not be returning by the weekend, even
though the advance party to Brazil had been told to proceed, I began to suspect
that there was more to the trip than we were being told. With the international
media latching on to the story that the president was in Saudi Arabia for
medicals, there were calls for full disclosure on the president’s health status.
The Saudi Arabia trip was not without its own drama because it was done in
such a manner that the president’s chief physician (CPP), Dr. Banye, was
curiously left out, without the knowledge of even the president, who was
evidently angry when at the airport he asked, “Where is Salisu?” only to be told
that his chief physician was not on the trip. He immediately directed that
arrangements be made for Banye to join him in Saudi Arabia the next day.

The change of hospital from Germany to Saudi Arabia (without the prior
knowledge of the CPP) was done on the belief that the American security agents
had penetrated the hospital and had gained access to the president’s health
profile. Going to Saudi Arabia was therefore a move to protect such information,
but from what I would later learn, it was an exercise in futility.

Back at home, at the next FEC meeting on August 27, 2008, the absence of the
president had become a serious issue, as nobody knew the true situation about
his condition. When asked by cabinet members whether he had been in touch
with the president, the VP

answered in the negative. Since leaving the country, he explained, the president
had not spoken with him. The VP further added that on the occasions when he
made efforts to speak with the president, he only succeeded in speaking with
either the ADC or the CSO.

The FEC meeting over, the minister of information, Mr. John Odey, and his
foreign affairs counterpart, Maduekwe, were detailed to brief the media.

The Brazil trip was in the news, especially since correspondents were aware that
the advance team had travelled ahead. Maduekwe, a smart politician with an
uncanny ability to wriggle out of trouble, confirmed to the media that the
president had postponed the Brazil trip “because of developments that needed
our immediate attention.” He would not elaborate on what those developments
were before he added that the postponement of the Brazil trip was not unusual.
“The trip was just readjusted, not cancelled. There is nothing unusual about it. It
was deferred. It happens like that several times. Governance is dynamic. You
cannot be a prisoner to any particular programme. Brazil is very important, and
we intend to keep that. Our respect for them remains very strong, and our
inability to go on this trip does not in any way affect our respect for them, and
they are looking forward to when the president will make the trip,” he said.
On his part, Odey decided to stick to the fact of the matter as he understood it:
“To the best of my knowledge, the president is still performing the lesser hajj. I
can’t say when he will return because umrah is a personal prayer affair.” During
this period, I refused to speak with the media, although I continued to mount
pressure on the CSO and ADC with the aim of having Yar’Adua speak with the
VP. We were exchanging dozens of text messages every day. From my own
sources in Saudi Arabia, it was very clear that only the CSO and the First Lady
had access to the president, while the other aides—including the ADC, SCOP,
and Hamza—could not see him.

September 2, 2008, however, brought some refreshing news. Almost two weeks
after leaving the country, the president finally spoke with the VP, the Senate
president and the Speaker. I was notified immediately after the calls were made,
and I decided it was better to make a statement the next day, to use those
conversations to explain the reason why the president was staying longer than
had been anticipated in Saudi Arabia. I made a draft, which I sent via e-mail to
the ADC for the president’s approval. This was the draft: In view of the
continuing anxiety across the nation caused by President Umaru Musa
Yar’Adua’s longer than expected stay in Saudi Arabia, the presidency wishes to
assure all Nigerians that the president will return home this week and continue to
work diligently for the attainment of the goals of his administration.

President Yar’Adua left Nigeria for Saudi Arabia on Wednesday August 20,
2008, to perform [the] lesser Hajj, but upon arrival in the Holy Land, he had to
undergo some routine medical checks. It was expected that the recommended
tests and procedures would be completed quickly to enable the president [to]
return for his scheduled trip to Brazil last week Tuesday. But the medicals
regrettably took longer than anticipated, and for that reason, the trip to Brazil
was rescheduled.

The tests and procedures have now been successfully completed. President
Yar’Adua yesterday spoke with Vice President Goodluck Jonathan, Senate
President David Mark, House of Representatives Speaker, Hon. Dimeji Bankole,
some ministers and state governors to confirm his well-being and imminent
return to Abuja. The presidency greatly appreciates the sincere concern of
Nigerians for the good health and well-being of President Yar’Adua. It also
wishes to stress that there was no deliberate attempt to misinform the nation as to
the true purpose of the president’s trip or his state of health.


Even though the mail was sent through the ADC, it was from the CSO that I
received a text message a few hours later. He said that the president didn’t want
me to make any statement without express clearance from him.

Since I had a splendid relationship with virtually all the security men around the
president, I knew everything that was going on in Saudi Arabia, and it was in
this messy situation that he returned to the country 17 days after he had left.
While I fretted over the media backlash that would follow, I got hints that he was
going to sack the secretary to the government of the federation, Ambassador
Babagana Kingibe, the next day. When it happened as predicted, it was such big
news that it jolted the nation and helped people to forget, at least for a while the
‘small matter’ of the president spending 17 days outside the country without any
explanation!

I felt, nevertheless, that there was a need to put a definite closure on the matter
with a statement that would explain the reason it took him that long in Saudi
Arabia. I approached the president about the issue. Not only did he disagree, I
noticed that his countenance changed. He never wanted to discuss anything
related to his health.

Somehow, we were able to ride the tide until a week later on September 16 when
AFP, quoting an alert from the News Agency of Nigeria (NAN), claimed
President Yar’Adua may resign due to ill health. Incidentally, the AFP State
House correspondent, Ola Awoniyi, a longtime friend, had called my attention to
an alert from NAN, which I had dismissed. I was just receiving the forwarded
mail when Mrs. Remi Oyo, the agency’s managing director, called. It turned out
that someone had hacked into NAN’s computers and sent out a badly written e-
mail that read, “President Umaru Musa Yar’Adua may resign after cabinate (sic)
reshuffle on health ground.” My landines and mobile phones began to buzz
endlessly, and each time I had to explain that there was no truth to the claim,
because the president was in the office. Then I was informed that Channels
Television was broadcasting the story, quoting AFP, which in turn quoted the
alert from NAN, which had disclaimed the story.

While I sat in my office warding off enquiries, some politicians and top officials
had gone to the president advising him to shut down the television station. By
the time I went to brief him of my efforts and how sorry Mr. John Momoh was, I
saw that his mood had been fouled up already.

As I made to leave his office, I saw the news bar on AIT that security men had
invaded Channels, arrested some people and closed down the station. “Oh my
God, this is unhelpful!” I exclaimed, but as I looked back at the president, I
could see visible anger written all over his face. I knew it was not a moment to
say anything as it dawned on me that just when I thought one problem had been
overcome, I was now being drawn into another—a bigger one.

The controversy over the closure of Channels lasted one week, during which I
hardly slept. I pleaded; I cajoled and sought the help of emissaries. At the end,
the intervention of Yayale, who had just become the SGF, helped, especially at
the last meeting called at my instance by the president. He read to the president
some text messages sent by his friends in the Diaspora about the implications of
closing down a media house. That helped considerably, but I also must commend
the then DG of SSS, Mr. Afakriya Gadzama. He saw the point John Odey and I
were making, and conceded.

With the reopening of Channels TV, there was relief for me, but not for long.
First, despite all my appeals, the case against Mr. Sam Nda-Isaiah, the publisher
of Leadership newspaper and some of his editors over a publication that
Yar’Adua was sick, was not withdrawn, thus drawing negative reactions.

The situation virtually graduated from frying pan to fire a week later when the
principal secretary to the president, David Edevbie, led 70 political aides of both
President Yar’Adua and Vice President Goodluck Jonathan to take an oath of
secrecy. The oath, administered by Justice Hussaini Yusuf of the High Court of
Justice, Abuja, was held at the Banquet Hall of the Presidential Villa, Abuja.
While this was part of some futile civil service rituals, critics described it as a
ploy to curb information flow about the health of the president. The situation
was not helped by the fact that even the spokesman for the president openly
swore to an oath of secrecy!

The oath of secrecy was a funny affair. I recall we were having a series of leaks
of information in the villa. We would finish a meeting and the details discussed
would be on the internet in less than 30 minutes. There was an instance when the
president conveyed a meeting to discuss the problem between NICON Insurance
and the federal government.
Not more than ten minutes after the meeting ended, Jimoh Ibrahim called to
express his displeasure at the position I took, which he said did not reflect the
fact that we were friends. When I asked what he was talking about, he quoted
verbatim what I said at the meeting. I reported the incident to the president
because we were just about eight in the meeting.

Also at this period, media houses were openly publishing confidential memos
from ministers, and a staff member in the president’s office was also caught
selling documents to a bank executive.

Following a conversation he’d had with the permanent secretary of the State
House, Edevbie discovered that, apparently, since May 1999, no political
appointee had signed the standard undertaking not to disclose confidential
information to the public without proper authorization. After he took the matter
up with the AGF, it was decided that the State House permanent secretary should
rectify it.

On the day of the oath taking, however, the whole event was mismanaged. One,
it became a big ceremony. Two, the media had been invited. Three, those of us
who had taken the oath of allegiance were not supposed to partake in the oath of
secrecy.

Interestingly, as the session was about to commence, someone suggested that the
media should be excused, but I considered such an idea rather silly, since the
reporters were already there. I insisted that the media witness the ceremony, but
the fact of the matter is that it was not done because of Yar’Adua’s health and it
was not even his idea. The event, however, generated negative reactions as
lawyers and clerics condemned the president for the development. The secretary
general of the Nigeria Supreme Council for Islamic Affairs (NSCIA), Dr. Abdul-
Lateef Adegbite, described the president’s action as a “disgrace to the Muslim
community with which he has always wanted to identify. What Nigerians want at
this point in history is a leader committed to democracy, rule of law and good
governance. We believe this [will] not be realised under a government run like a
cult.”

I had to wade into the controversy, but all my explanations fell on deaf ears. As
far as the public was concerned, Aso Rock had become another secret society,
and the only thing that fuelled all the innuendoes was the health of the president,
which, I also must admit, had indeed become a state secret, to the handlers at
least!

11
The Journey to Saudi Arabia

On Monday January 19, 2009, the CSO and I were having a routine conversation
when he informed me that the president would be taking his annual vacation the
following week. He offered no hint of how long the vacation would last. He was
also vague concerning the vacation spot. The more I probed, the more he
hedged. I anticipated trouble.

For the next two days, I had to depend on my established sources among the
security men and protocol officials, in an attempt to ascertain if there was any
development about the president’s health that required emergency response, and
whether there were plans to travel out of the country. The feedback was
reassuring: there was no preparation for any foreign trip. But I still felt
uncomfortable. I reasoned that there must be something behind the sudden idea
of a vacation in January, and I needed to know what exactly was going on. After
the FEC meeting two days later, I walked the president back to his residence and
sought an audience with him.

Discussing his health was the most troubling issue for me, but on January 21,
2009, I needed a clarification. I told him I had been informed that he would be
starting a two-week leave beginning from the following Monday, adding that the
media would be very inquisitive about the details of how the leave would be
spent and where. I told him that already there were speculations in the media that
he might be travelling outside the country for a medical check-up.

I glimpsed a change in the president’s countenance as I spoke, but the change

was not indicative of anger; it was a mood that spoke of sadness, the sort that
could come with the helpless realization that all my concerns were based on an
issue over which he had no control. Discussing his health usually made him look
vulnerable, but on this particular occasion, he explained that he was not
travelling abroad but simply needed to take some time to rest. I found that
somewhat comforting, but as I made to leave, he called me back and asked for
my thoughts about the necessity of formally writing the National Assembly. I
said it would bolster his image as it would reaffirm his commitment to the rule of
law. He promised he would do that and asked that I inform the CSO to get him
the attorney general. I left the president, feeling very relieved and thinking I
could spin the positives out of the leave if he could formally notify the National
Assembly of his intention to go on vacation as he promised to do.

I felt even more elated four days later at the banquet hall of the State House. In
the course of the reception for the president’s daughter, Nafisat, who had earlier
in the day gotten married to Governor Isa Yuguda of Bauchi State, the president
beckoned to me, since I was sitting at the next table. He asked, “What is the
weather like at Obudu Cattle Ranch now?” I told him I had no idea but could
find out. He nodded before he added: “If you can confirm that the weather is not
so cold, let us go there; after all, you have since been pushing for me to go to
Obudu. But tell the CSO and the ADC and also inform the governor about it.”

Bustling with excitement, I informed the CSO and the ADC, and afterwards left
the reception in order to call the Cross River State governor, Mr. Liyel Imoke.
When I couldn’t reach him, I got his predecessor, Mr. Donald Duke, and told
him that the president was planning to spend some time at Obudu. I called Duke
because he conceived the idea of the presidential resort, which Yar’Adua
declared open in October 2007, and I knew the time and energy that had been
sunk into making Obudu Cattle Ranch what it had become. Having spent time at
the ranch with my family during the Christmas of 2005, I was certain the
president would enjoy the place. While Duke confirmed the weather was okay—
this being the crucial factor—he also said, however, that I needed to clear with
the governor about the availability and readiness of the presidential resort. I
reported back to the president, who said we could go ahead and make all the
preparations for the trip.

Optimism was still in the air by the next day. I was also aware of moves to write
a letter of notification to both the Senate president and the House of
Representatives’ Speaker in compliance with provisions of the 1999
Constitution. This became apparent during discussions on how the language
should be couched. But at that period, it was also common to hear sniggering
remarks that suggested there were people opposed to the idea.

Comments like these were common: “Did Obasanjo ever write the National
Assembly that he was going on leave?”; “Did Baba ever formally hand over to
Atiku?”; “Is the president not president of Nigeria wherever he is?”

Notwithstanding all this side talk, there was nothing to suggest that the president
would not send a formal letter of notification to the National Assembly, because
the SGF office was already abreast of the matter. As it would turn out, those who
did not want the president to send the notification eventually prevailed, even
when he had already appended his signature to the letter titled ‘Notification of
Leave’.

The two-paragraph letter separately addressed to both the Senate president and
the House of Representative Speaker and dated January 26, 2009, reads, “I
hereby write to formally apprise you of the fact that I shall be proceeding on a
two-week leave with effect from today, 26th January, 2009.

“During the period of my leave, all matters requiring my attention will be

attended to by His Excellency, the Vice President, Dr. Goodluck Jonathan.” For
reasons that were both curious and irrational, I was told that some officials
argued that it was ‘politically dangerous’ for the president to send such a
notification to the National Assembly. Of course, this same issue would come up
later in the year when the president went on what turned out to be his last trip to
Saudi Arabia, from which he never recovered. With the benefit of hindsight, I
can see that if the president had sent that letter in January 2009, his action would
have been applauded and when it was necessary again to leave the country in
November 23 for Saudi Arabia, he probably would have had no hesitation to do
so. The nation would have been spared the controversy that dogged the last six
months of his presidency if he had not succumbed to the pressure.

The handlers of the president were clearly wary of Section 145 of the 1999
Constitution, which reads, “Whenever the president transmits to the President of
Senate and the Speaker of the House of Representatives a written declaration
that he is proceeding on vacation or that he is otherwise unable to discharge the
functions of his office, until he transmits to them a written declaration to the
contrary, such functions shall be discharged by the Vice President as Acting
President.”

The attorney general’s position, as he would later explain to me, was premised
on the conviction that the operative word in Section 145 of the constitution was
‘whenever’, which implies the president was not compelled to transmit such a
letter to the National Assembly. In arguing that it was discretionary, the AGF
said even in the American system, from where the presidential system of
government was copied, transfer of power only happened four times in their
history and that for medical reasons at times when the president was to undergo
surgery. In effect, all the ‘special advisers’ the president consulted before finally
deciding whether or not to send the notification to the National Assembly would
have used his health issue to highlight the implications of the course of action he
planned to take.

By the morning of January 16, 2009, when I planned to brief the media that the
president would be going on a two-week vacation, my main concern was how to
navigate this tricky issue. Even though the president had not notified me that he
had changed his mind about the letter, I could not pretend I was unaware of the
anxieties and resulting intrigues over the issue. I was almost certain it was bound
to come up in the course of my media briefing.

After reading my brief, one-paragraph statement on the vacation, I decided to

take a few questions. Quite naturally, the first was whether the vacation had to
do with the health of the president, which I quickly dismissed. I explained that
every president needs time away from the pressure of office to relax, rejuvenate
and possibly reflect and unwind, adding that the presidential resort at Obudu
Cattle Ranch was built as a presidential getaway like Camp David in the United
States. So, to that extent, the idea of going on leave had nothing to do with the
health of the president, I said.

Predictably, there was a question about whether the president would hand over to
his deputy. My reply to that question was vague, as I alluded to what happened
in the course of the Federal Executive Council the previous week. I recounted
the debate at the FEC

concerning some of the principal ministers whose ministries virtually grind to a

halt when they travel out, because the minister of state cannot act. I reaffirmed
what the president had said: that whenever he was absent from office, the vice
president should deal with any official matters that arose. “So, if Mr. President is
on vacation, it goes without saying that the vice president will take charge. That
is just the normal thing, not hand-over per se. The president is still in charge,
there is no big deal about it,” I said. To buttress this position, I added that the VP
would represent the president at the African Union summit scheduled for that
week in Libya, where Muammar Ghaddafi would take the chair.
Then came the tricky question as to whether the president had written to notify
the National Assembly about his vacation. I said I was not aware, but added that
the AGF

would be in the best position to clarify the situation on that. After making my
point, I refused to take any follow-up questions on the matter, even while the
reporters pressed for more information. Not surprisingly, the lawmakers picked
up the issue the next day when Senator Thomson Sekibo, while raising a point of
order, drew the attention of his colleagues to media reports (quoting me) that the
president was taking a vacation.

Senator Sekibo, who sought to ascertain from Mark whether the president had
transmitted to him a letter of which he was yet to inform the Senate said, “I bring
it up because we must adhere strictly to provisions of the constitution. Mr.
President has a right to go on leave, no one argues about that, but we must
follow the constitution, so that we will know where the president is. Between
August and September last year there was the rumour also on the pages of
newspapers that Mr. President was not in Aso Rock. I therefore want to know
from the Senate president whether you have received a notice that the president

[will] be proceeding on leave, since you have not communicated such to us.”
Mark replied that the president had not forwarded to him any such letter. “That’s
why I have not read any letter. But in the event that he does so, the vice president
will be the acting president,” he explained. Senate leader, Teslim Folarin’s
contribution came as a mild rebuke of Sekibo, whom he said was relying on
newspaper reports: “If he has not written to us, it is not mandatory; it simply
means the man has not gone on leave.” Intent on protecting the president from
what was becoming an embarrassing exchange, Mark eventually ruled Sekibo
out of order and closed further debate on the issue. The House adopted a similar
position, namely, that if the president was indeed on vacation, he would have
transmitted to them a letter. While several lawyers and civil society activists
waded in, all the debate turned out to be merely academic, because the president
did not eventually travel out of Abuja. That, nevertheless, stirred some
controversy.

Saharareporters, the news website owned by former University of Lagos

students’ union president, Omoyele Sowore, had become popular, especially
among Nigerians in the Diaspora. Within the Villa, it had become a constant
irritant because it was evident there were moles within who were feeding the
website information on the status of the health of the president. Initially, perhaps
because I had admitted knowing Sowore at a time when the website was
erroneously being linked with Sahara Energy of Tonye Cole, Tope Sonubi, et al.,
some people considered me the prime suspect. But when the website began to
publish information I could not possibly have, then the realization dawned that
the sources must be closer than they imagined.

I recall that one of the saddest days for the president was when the website
published photographs of his son wielding guns and holding wads of N1,000
bills. Investigations later revealed that the photographs had been taken by a
rogue security official close to the family who had given the boy his official gun
and handed him the naira notes. In a rather emotional tone, the president held the
photographs I had printed for him and kept repeating, “How can they do this to a
small boy? How can politics degenerate to this level—an innocent child?”

As he handed the photographs back to me, asking that I bring them back to him
at the residence later in the day, he said, almost in tears: “They can do anything
to me, but why give a gun to a small boy just to make a point?”

For a man who was already weak, it was no surprise when I learnt the next day
that the president would not be coming to the office because he had fallen ill. All
his appointments were cancelled, and it would take another six days before I
would set my eyes on him again. From that period, efforts were made to locate
saharareporters’ sources within the villa security network, but it proved futile.

Back in January 2009, following my announcement that the president was going
to Obudu Cattle Ranch, the website came out with a story that the entire vacation
idea was a ruse and that the president was being managed by some spiritualists
imported into the country and domiciled within Aso Rock. There were graphic
descriptions of the movement of the president to precise locations within the
villa under the cover of darkness. Most of the reports were dead accurate.

While I see no point dignifying some of the desperate measures that people
sometimes take, especially when confronted with serious health challenges, my
main concern at that point was how to rationalize the fact that the president, who
told the world he would go on vacation outside Abuja, was now holed up inside
the State House. As it happened, on the first day of the leave, the governor of
Yobe State, Senator Mamman Ali, died in the United States. The president said
he would attend the burial as arrangements were made to bring the remains of
the deceased governor back to Nigeria.

The burial took place in Fika on Thursday morning, and we were there, having
left the villa for the airport before 6:00 a.m. (This was another curious feature
about the president and, looking back, it may have been as a result of his own
mortality which, apparently, he was more conscious of than most, perhaps
because of his health challenges. While he would ordinarily not come down
early for any event, if it was a funeral, no matter the time it was fixed for, he
would be prompt. The moment the news of the death of a close relation or a
prominent personality from the north was broken to him, the next thing would be
to ask that arrangements be made for him to attend the burial.) Attending
Mamman Ali’s burial was particularly instructive. As we drove into the town, we
were confronted by big banners, billboards and posters of the deceased governor
all loudly pronouncing him the right choice for the 2011 gubernatorial elections!
This was January 2009, less than two years into his first term in office. When we
got back to the villa, the president asked whether we had noticed the banners,
shaking his head before he went into a philosophical exhortation on the vanity of
human wishes.

Back from the burial, the vacation continued. With saharareporters supplying the
fodder, a section of the media would not relent on the fact that the man who had
said he was going to Obudu Cattle Ranch and Lagos did not even leave the villa,
and I had to keep inventing excuses. First, it was because the VP had to attend
the African Union (AU) meeting in Libya and, later, the excuse was that Obudu
was not ready. Governor Imoke didn’t like this bit because he had actually cut
short a foreign trip to be back home to receive the president. He called me to
register his protest.

After spending two weeks without travelling out of Abuja, the president resumed
work.

But by then, his work schedule had reduced considerably to such an extent that
he was spending no more than an average of three to four hours in the office
daily. By then also, he was no longer walking to the office; he had to be driven,
even when the distance was less than a hundred metres. There were also days
when he would not come down from his room. To make up for this, on days
when his health seemed to have improved, he would stay for several hours and
would not leave until all the files were cleared.
There was, however, no doubt that his health was having an adverse impact on
the business of governance. In a nation where so much power was concentrated
in the hands of the president, where even routine decisions sometimes require
the sanction of the big man, things were gradually coming to a halt in Aso Rock.
Meetings were routinely cancelled and crucial decisions could not be taken
because ministers and heads of agencies could not secure the approval of the
president.

Notwithstanding his health challenges, however, whenever the president

attended the FEC meeting, he ensured that he stayed till the end, however long it
took. Yet, it didn’t require medical training to see that he was merely struggling,
as his body could no longer withstand the stress he was putting himself through.
All these would not go without repercussions: on July 20, 2009, what would
have been an international embarrassment was averted in Togo.

It all started at the 15th summit of the Non-Aligned Movement meeting in

Sharm El-Sheikh, Egypt, between July 15 and 16, 2009. The first day, the
president missed the session with the host, Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak,
and was also late for the opening ceremony. Even so, he did not stay till the end
of the ceremony: he left the moment he had presented his own address.

There were also bilateral meetings scheduled for him at the margin of the
summit with the leaders of Australia, Colombia, Turkey, Vietnam, Serbia, Sri
Lanka and Bosnia Herzegovina. All of them were cancelled when it became
clear that he was not strong enough to be exposed to these sessions.

While all this was understandable, I became worried when I learnt that the twice-
postponed two-day visit to Bayelsa State had again been cancelled and that he
would also not attend the ECOWAS summit billed for Togo the same week. At a
time when the president had proclaimed amnesty for Niger Delta militants, there
was no doubt in my mind that it would strike a wrong chord if he refused to go
to Bayelsa. Fortunately, the ADC saw things my way, and he deployed Alhaji
Inuwa Baba to speak with the First Lady to persuade her husband to appreciate
why going to Bayelsa was very important.

One of the reasons Inuwa Baba was invaluable to us in the team was that not
only did he have access to the First Family, he could be very blunt if he wanted
to be. In trying to secure the support of the First Lady on the issue, he said, “If
your husband doesn’t go to Bayelsa, then many Nigerians will say he is a
coward, because it would be interpreted to mean he is staying away because he
is afraid of the militants.” The First Lady agreed with this summation and within
one hour after the trip had been cancelled, it was rescheduled. There was now,
however, a little caveat: we would be returning the same day rather than
spending the night in the state, which had been the initial plan. We also agreed
that not more than two projects would be commissioned, after which the
president would address the people at a public arena before proceeding to the
presidential lodge.

The Bayelsa trip was successful, but it no doubt took a toll on the president,
whose health, even at the best of times, was very fragile. By then, he had also
decided that he would attend the ECOWAS summit the next day in Togo because
President Faure Eyadema had pleaded with him to attend. Twenty-four hours
later, we were in the small West African country.

As was common at such events within the sub-region, the president alighted
from the aircraft to a tumultuous crowd that had been stationed at the airport to
welcome the visiting African leaders. That also meant he had to inspect a guard
of honour!

Nobody anticipated any trouble, until the president took about 20 steps and
could not move again. Since the drummers and dancers were carrying on
excitedly, there was not much attention focused on him at that point. He
whispered to the ADC, who had by then moved close to him, that he may fall if
he took as much as another step. Moving quickly, Mustapha draped the lapel of
the president’s babariga over his uniform, so that no one would see his right
hand, which he had used to support the president while pulling him forward with
his shoulder and right leg. Many in the ecstatic crowd watched the awkward and
slow movement of the president. The ADC succeeded in dragging him forward
until he could make a detour to enter the nearest room at the arrival hall. It was a
public place, but all the officials were immediately cleared by a visibly worried
Togolese president, who helped the ADC to sit president Yar’Adua on a chair
provided for him.

Because we were the last delegation to arrive at the airport, which was quite a
distance from the town where the ECOWAS session was to hold, immediately
the president’s aircraft touched down and cameras captured his arrival, all the
journalists were directed to leave for the venue so that they would not be caught
in the presidential convoy. That became the saving grace: Beyond the official
photographers and cameramen who came with the Togolese president, there was
no newsman around the airport from the private media to observe the
unfortunate drama.

We stayed at the airport for a further thirty minutes while the doctor observed the
president. When we eventually arrived at the venue, rather than go for the
meeting, the president moved straight to the room that had already been prepared
for him. As people milled around, there were whispers that the Nigerian
president had nearly collapsed at the airport, with varying accounts as to what
had happened.

Given the incident, and sensing that it might not be wise to hold a session in
public in the state the Nigerian president was, the ECOWAS leaders decided to
have an informal closed-door session with no other officials present. It was only
after the session had ended that someone came to where we were all gathered to
read the communiqué.

Till today, it remains a mystery to me how the ADC successfully moved the
president away from the tarmac, a fairly long distance. His only response when I
asked him later that day was a terse, “I am a military officer.” Nevertheless, with
that remarkable feat, his stock rose, since the president knew he (ADC) had
saved him from what would have been an international embarrassment. Until
then, Col. Mustapha Dennis Onoyiveta had been viewed with suspicion based on
the little fact that he is an Urhobo man from Delta state and not a northerner as
some people preferred. Yet he had gotten the job purely on merit after a
competitive interview conducted by Major General Mohammed from a shortlist
sent by the Defence Headquarters. That itself became an issue, as there were
whispering campaigns that former President Obasanjo deliberately planted
Mustapha on Yar’Adua. After Togo, Mustapha’s loyalty was never questioned
again.

The experience of that day sounded a further note of alarm that the president
needed to attend to his health. At this time, I too had earned his trust. So when
the idea was being mooted for him to travel out of the country, I was in the
picture quite early. He personally told me of the need for him to see his doctors
in Saudi Arabia, and I suggested that the best way to handle the issue was to give
an advance notice. Most Nigerians would understand and even appreciate the
gesture if that was done, I told him. He agreed. So five days before he was
scheduled to leave the country on Friday, August 14, 2009, I informed Nigerians
that the president would be travelling for a scheduled medical check-up. In the
statement I put out on Monday, August 10, 2009, I added that he was expected to
be away for one week.

As predicted, this statement was well received by most Nigerians, who began to
pray for him the day he travelled. He spent exactly one week on this trip. He
looked a bit rejuvenated and relaxed upon return, but within a matter of days, all
that had vanished.

The sad but candid verdict was that there was no major improvement in his
health condition. He was by now going to the office about three times a week
and only between 1:00 p.m. and 5:00 p.m. By this period also, government was
practically on autopilot. I was therefore not surprised to learn that, for the second
year in a row, the president would not be attending the United Nations General
Assembly late in September 2009. But I was shocked when I learnt that the
president was instead going to Saudi Arabia to attend the opening ceremony of a
university at the invitation of the Saudi monarch.

Coming just about three weeks after he returned from the same country, I knew
nobody would believe this was not a decoy to go on yet another medical
expedition. Although highly controversial, this trip took him exactly six days.
But in the weeks that followed his return, his health deteriorated to such an
extent that I suggested he take a vacation. I did so through a memo, which he
approved and thanked me for. When he, however, suggested going to Obudu
Cattle Ranch, I was not enthusiastic, given the previous experience. To show that
he was serious, an advance team of security men were sent to recce the ranch
with preparations for us to go there during the Eid al-Fitr period, which would
fall within the third week of November.

The plan was for him to take a vacation after presenting the 2010 Appropriation
Bill to the National Assembly. This was initially scheduled for the end of
October. It would, however, drag on till November. Unfortunately, by the time
the budget was ready, there were more dramatic developments. It began early in
the morning of Monday, November 15, when the CSO called that it was very
important for me to join him and the ADC to discuss a crucial issue that had to
do with the presentation of the 2010 Appropriation Bill before the National
Assembly.

I couldn’t understand what the fuss about the budget was that would necessitate
such an emergency intervention, but I prayed it had nothing to do with the health
of the president.

Just two weeks earlier, the president had written to Senate President David Mark
in his capacity as the National Assembly chairman, on his desire to address a
joint session of the National Assembly on Thursday November 19.

The request to present the appropriation bill to a joint session of the National
Assembly (which had become a tradition for sitting presidents) was based on
Section 81 (1) of the constitution, which states that “the President shall cause to
be prepared and laid before each House of the National Assembly, at any time, in
each financial year, estimates of the revenue and expenditure of the federation of
the next following financial year.” But as we sat in the ADC’s office that
Monday morning, the CSO said, mostly for my benefit—since he and the ADC
were working together—that we needed to explore the ways we would manage
the president’s mission to the National Assembly. By this period, perhaps due to
the level of confidence he saw I enjoyed with the president, the CSO was no
longer concealing issues pertaining to the health of the president from me,
especially in relation to areas where my advice might be useful. He went straight
to the point: the president did not have enough strength to walk from the
National Assembly main entrance to the chambers of the House of
Representatives where the session would hold.

The duo had come up with a solution: rather than enter the National Assembly
through the main entrance, our convoy would drive into the complex through the
back entrance from the Akinola Aguda end of the villa. This would necessitate
leaving the villa earlier than expected so that on arrival, the president would
walk what was a short distance into an office where he would be received by
some officials of the National Assembly. He is expected to rest for sometime
there and afterwards walk some distance to another holding room where he
would relax for yet another few minutes. From there the president would then
walk the remaining distance into the chambers.

This was not altogether a bad idea. But I was not comfortable, as I feared that
something could still go wrong. If the president was not strong enough to walk
what was ordinarily a short distance, how can we be assured that he could stand
for some considerable length of time to read the speech? The next day, there was
some freak of fortune on the floor of the National Assembly. It all started when
the Senate President, Mr. David Mark, said the budget would be presented at the
Senate. This, of course, was rejected by the House of Representatives with the
Speaker, Dimeji Bankole, countering that the House had always hosted the
president.

Although some conspiracy theorists would later claim that the disagreement was
stoked by Aso Rock, I know for a fact that we did not engineer it, though we
took full advantage of the situation. Bankole’s stand was buttressed on the day
by the House’s Media and Public Affairs Committee chairman, Eseme Eyiboh,
who said, “Traditionally, it has always been in the House of Representatives, and
that tradition is usually informed by the convenience of space and logistics. The
360 members in the House, 109 Senators, President Yar’Adua and his entourage,
governors, chieftains of political parties, captains of industry, and members of
diplomatic corps are coming. So when I am talking about the convenience of
logistics and space, it’s the tradition that the House provides that space to
accommodate that audience. The Senate has the capacity to accommodate less
than 150.” The Senate countered this argument through their own spokesman,
Senator Ayogu Eze, who maintained that the Senate chamber was large enough
to accommodate all lawmakers and that Mark had consulted all stakeholders
before taking the decision: “It is the prerogative of the chairman of the National
Assembly to decide the venue of the joint session. This year, he has decided that
the joint session will take place in the Red Chamber, and all the relevant
authorities have been duly notified, including the leadership of the House and
the National Assembly leadership —including the clerk of the National
Assembly and the management.”

This squabble in the National Assembly presented a perfect excuse for us at the
villa; I quickly spread the word that the president was ready for the budget
presentation but could not possibly go to the National Assembly until the issue
of the venue was resolved.

The common view was that the stalemate would buy us more time for the
president to fully recover. But by Saturday, November 21, 2009, the equation
changed when the CSO

called for another emergency meeting, and this time, he included the principal
secretary, Edevbie.

Within one hour, four of us had assembled in his office, and without any
preamble, he said the president was ill and needed to travel out of the country.
This information was rather depressing for me. Given that the budget had yet to
be presented, another trip to Saudi Arabia would be a major problem to manage,
so I asked, “Can’t the president wait till Tuesday, present the budget and then
travel that day?” The CSO’s response was that barring the challenge of getting a
visa from the Saudi authorities, they would have travelled immediately. On the
appropriation bill, he said a decision had been taken already that the president
would just send it to the National Assembly through the special adviser on
National Assembly matters. Since he was quoting the constitution to buttress his
point that this course of action was perfectly in order, even though he was not a
lawyer, I concluded that the AGF must be privy to the issue of budget
presentation. Our meeting ended with an agreement that it was very important
for the president to invite the VP and seek his cooperation before he would travel
out of the country, because we anticipated that it would be difficult to manage
without his cooperation.

On Monday morning, with arrangements for the trip at the concluding stage, I
issued the following statement based on what the president had personally
scrawled for me:

“President Umaru Musa Yar’Adua left Abuja today for the Kingdom of Saudi
Arabia.

While there, the President will call on his personal physicians in Jeddah for
follow-up medical checks. The President forwarded copies of the 2010 National
Appropriation Bill to the Senate President and the Speaker of the House of
Representatives before leaving the country. He wishes the Muslim Ummah and
all Nigerians happy Eid-el-Kabir celebrations.”

As expected, there was public outcry not just about another trip to Saudi Arabia,
the third within a space of two months, but also on the unprecedented decision to
send the appropriation bill to the National Assembly through the special adviser.
By then also, there were speculations that the president was actually evacuated
on a stretcher to the airport in an ambulance. It was a story that got ample
mention on the international media, and the president himself was said to have
monitored the news throughout the trip that spoke of his visit to “an undisclosed
hospital” in Saudi Arabia for an equally

“undisclosed ailment” on Aljazeera. He didn’t feel comfortable with the

reportage.
Four days after they left Nigeria, I got a call from the ADC, who said the
president wanted me to speak with the president’s chief physician so we could
issue a press release on the diagnosis of his ailment. A few minutes later, Dr.
Banye sent me a text message from which I crafted a statement duly sent back to
Saudi Arabia. After it was approved, I called for a briefing. Shortly before I
addressed the media, the CSO called me and said the president wanted me to
personally take the statement to the VP before addressing the media.

I called the VP on the phone to intimate him of my planned press briefing and
the content. I also told him that the instruction from the president was that I
should see him personally, but if he didn’t mind, I could read the statement to
him straightaway. He said I should go ahead. Once I was done, he said he felt
relieved by the development, mentioning that he could no longer pick his calls
because he didn’t know what to tell people about the health of the president.

Having cleared with the VP, I went to brief the media. I started by reading to
them the statement by Dr. Salisu Banye, dated November 26, 2009: At about
3pm on Friday, November 20th, after he returned from the Abuja Central
Mosque where he performed the Juma’at prayers, President Umaru Musa
Yar’Adua complained of left-sided severe chest pain. Preliminary medical
examinations suggested ACUTE PERICARDITIS (an inflammatory condition of
the coverings of the heart).

It was then decided that he should undertake confirmatory checks at the King
Faisal Specialist Hospital and Research Centre in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, where
he had his last medical check-up in August 2008. The medical review and tests
undertaken at the hospital have confirmed the initial diagnosis that the president
is indeed suffering from ACUTE PERICARDITIS. He is now receiving
treatment for the ailment and is responding remarkably well.

The reaction to this disclosure was swift. Fifty-five prominent Nigerians

comprising Chief Olu Falae, Colonel Abubakar Umar and some opposition
politicians like Dr. Usman Bugaje said Yar’Adua’s health challenge had
unwittingly created a dangerous situation to the effect that no one was in charge
of the affairs of state, contrary to the letter and spirit of the constitution. They
argued that it was very clear to every discerning observer that the president’s
physical condition had a negative impact on his ability to discharge the functions
of the highest office in our land: “Within the last few months, he has been unable
to attend to crucial affairs of the state at home and abroad and whenever he has
found time to do so, his judgment appears impaired by his ill-health.” After
citing several examples to buttress their point, they recommended that he resign
from office immediately. In the event that he failed to heed that advice, they
called on the Federal Executive Council to pass a resolution pursuant to Section
144 (1) of the Constitution to the effect that the president appeared incapable of
discharging the functions of his office. Section 144 empowered the FEC to begin
the process that would declare the president permanently incapacitated.

More people were to join in making that call, saying that it was time the
president resigned to attend to his health. It was at that point that the Nigerian
Governors’ Forum met in Abuja, following which they dismissed the calls for
Yar’Adua to resign. In the absence of any evidence of incapacitation on the part
of the president, according to the Governors’ Forum, it was rash and
diversionary to call for his resignation. “On the basis of the foregoing, therefore,
the Nigeria Governors’ Forum hereby restates our firm commitment to the peace,
progress and stability of the Federal Republic of Nigeria. We wish Mr. President,
Alhaji Umaru Musa Yar’Adua, GCFR, quick recovery as he continues to lead
our country,” the Forum concluded.

The intervention of the governors, however, hardly brought any respite; by the
second week of December, the president’s absence had fuelled intense agitation
within the polity with several pending issues that required his attention. Aside
from the signing of the supplementary budget, the NDDC Act had also not been
signed and the tenure of the Chief Justice of the Federation was about to run out.

Throughout this period, I was in constant touch with Saudi Arabia through
phone calls and text messages, and they kept giving assurances that the president
“will soon return” despite the fact that there was no specific date as to when that
would be.

By the third week of December, there was still no sign that the president would
return, so I pleaded with the CSO to allow Edevbie and I to travel to Saudi
Arabia so we could give them a holistic picture of the situation back home and
take rational decisions on the way forward. All my entreaties yielded no result. I
met with the AGF and asked him why he could not advice that the president
should send a letter to save everybody the trouble. I warned that with the way
things were going, it was better for the president to send a notification to the
National Assembly. I also said that in the event that the VP became acting
president without a transfer of power from the president, there would be
consequences. At one point, the then outgoing chief justice of the federation,
Justice Idris Kutigi, also waded in. His advice —which had been relayed to
Saudi Arabia—was that the president needed to write a letter.

On December 21, 2009, I was in the office when a security man brought an
envelope, which he said had just arrived from Saudi Arabia. The moment I read
the contents, I became deeply sceptical. It was a letter from the AGF to the VP
where he practically said therein that it was unnecessary for the president to send
any notification to the National Assembly because the law already granted the
VP enough powers to act. He hinged his argument on a Supreme Court
interpretation in Attorney General vs. Abubakar (2002) 10NWLR (PT1004),
which stated that “the 1999 Constitution vests executive powers only on the
president. However, the president is required to exercise such executive powers
conferred on him either directly or through the vice president and minister of the
government….” By virtue of this ruling, according to Aondoakaa, the VP could
sign budget, swear in the chief justice of the federation, and perform any other
function of the president.

Despite not being a lawyer, I found all the arguments proffered by the AGF quite
spurious. So, I called the CSO and asked him whether the VP found the content
agreeable. While he was obviously not expecting this sort of inquisition, I told
him I could not possibly leak such a letter unless I cleared with the man himself.
I called the VP

to say I would be coming to see him. After dispensing with pleasantries, I asked
whether he had received a letter from the attorney general directing him to act as
president. He retorted, “Why would the AGF write me a letter?”

I said I had just been given a copy of a letter written to him, producing same as I
spoke.

He dismissed the letter out of hand, repeating the question, “Why would he write
me a letter?” He appeared very angry, but I nonetheless pleaded with him to read
the letter.

Reluctantly, he accepted the letter from me, and as he went through, I could see
that he had actually read the letter before. When he got to the part on Supreme
Court interpretation, he read aloud the phrase “the president is required to
exercise such executive powers conferred on him either directly or through the
vice president and minister of the government…,” he looked up and said, “That
can mean anybody, even you. This is a very stupid letter, which says nothing.”
For the next five minutes, the VP expressed his anger over what was going on,
especially the attempt by the handlers of the president to circumvent the law. He
specifically had harsh words for the AGF, whom he said was working the courts
in the bid to ensure that the right thing was not done. At that point, I had to
explain that I also didn’t know what was going on in Saudi Arabia.

I left the VP feeling more depressed about the political situation, and I recounted
my meeting with him to the CSO. I also told him to caution the AGF that if the
letter leaked, there would be trouble, because the VP had made it clear he was
disinclined to swearing in the chief justice and would also not sign the
appropriation bill except if there was a notification to the National Assembly by
the president, which would then make him officially the acting president.

Not long after I dropped the phone, the AGF called me, asking for a meeting. He
also suggested that I contact the finance minister, because the critical issue we
had to tackle was how to get the budget signed and the chief justice of the
federation sworn in. We eventually fixed the meeting for 7:00 p.m. at the
Ministry of Finance.

There were four of us: the AGF, the finance minister, and Ruma. I narrated what
had happened earlier in the day and my fear about the danger of the memo
leaking. The AGF

said he had taken care of that, assuring that nobody would know about the ill-
fated memo. I now asked him why it was difficult for the president to send a
letter to the National Assembly, considering he had offered such advice only a
few days earlier.

His position had clearly changed. He said it would be politically suicidal for the
president to write the National Assembly because that would mean ceding
powers completely. The constitution does not recognize a sitting president and
an acting president, he said, adding that once someone else began to act as
president, it meant the substantive president was no longer there.

I considered his argument self-serving, because I could see it lacked conviction.

Deep down, he knew the correct thing for the president to do was to write the
letter, and the excuses he was now offering were merely to justify his change of
position. After about two hours, during which we could not conclude on the
budget, it was resolved that emissaries be sent to the VP to plead with him to
sign. It was also decided that the leadership of the National Assembly be
persuaded to accept this option. From the tone of discussion, there was not going
to be any letter from the president. That seemed to be a closed option. Yet I knew
the longer the president stayed in Saudi Arabia, the less tenable it would be to
sustain such a decision.

The entreaties to the VP yielded no positive result; he maintained that he had it

on good authority that if he signed the budget, he would be impeached by the
National Assembly.

But with regard to the new chief justice of the federation, the AGF said he had
stumbled on the fact that the president did not necessarily have to perform the
swearing in, that under the oath’s act (not the constitution) even the outgoing
CJN could swear in his successor. This was new, but under the situation we were
in, any straw was worth holding on to.

So on December 28, 2009, with many governors present, and for the first time in
the nation’s history, the outgoing chief justice of Nigeria (CJN), Idris Kutigi,
swore in his designated successor, Justice Aloysius Katsina-Alu. This created an
uproar, but as in all legal issues, there were also those who said it was legal. The
divided opinion just suited us. Describing the swearing in and mode of
appointment of Justice Katsina-Alu as

“illegal,” Mr. Femi Falana, president of the West African Bar Association
(WABA), said they were a recipe for a constitutional crisis: “Between 11:00 a.m.
and 12 midnight today, Nigeria has two chief justices, contrary to the letter and
spirit of the constitution and the Supreme Court Act.”

Falana argued that even though President Yar’Adua had sent Justice Katsina-
Alu’s name to the Senate for confirmation as required by Section 231 of the
constitution, after which the lawmakers screened and declared him
‘appointable’, the process remained incomplete. “When did the Senate inform
the president that his lordship was okay for the appointment? When was his
lordship appointed after the Senate screening?” he queried.
“The swearing in convened by the National Judicial Council (NJC) is illegal, as
its power does not go beyond the nomination of judges for appointment. For
sure, these serial illegalities will not go unchallenged,” he said.

Justice Kutigi, who also swore in the court of appeal president, Justice Isa Ayo
Salami, said his action was backed by the Oaths Act: “For the first time in the
history of this country, a sitting Chief Justice has sworn in the incoming. It is
happening not because of the fault of anybody, because the law has always been
there that Mr. President or the Chief Justice can swear in the incoming. Now the
occasion has arisen, and we are to perform the function. This has generated a lot
of issue even from those who should know.

If you look at the Oaths Act, you will see that the President and the Chief Justice
can swear in the incoming. The law is clear. If you look at the constitution, the
constitution also makes it clear. There is nothing new; the law is there.” The
legal controversy that raged on did not, however, dampen the relief we felt that
we had, at least, successfully managed one of the two issues for which the
absence of the president had all but created a constitutional problem. But the
budget problem still lingered, and for the National Assembly, it was the most
critical. Although all earlier entreaties to allow Edevbie to come to Saudi Arabia
had failed, just before Christmas, he received a telephone call requesting him to
bring the 2009 Supplementary Appropriation Bill to enable the president to sign
it into law. We were relieved because we were getting close to the end of the 30-
day deadline for presidential assent as required by the constitution, or the bill
would be deemed to have been vetoed.

Chairman of the Governors’ Forum and Kwara State Governor, Dr. Saraki, a
close ally of the president, was instrumental in getting Saudi Arabia to invite
Edevbie to come with the appropriation bill. Saraki had visited Saudi Arabia in
the third week of December but could not see the president. He met the First
Lady, however, to whom he presented three requests: One, that the president
invite Edevbie to bring the supplementary budget so he could sign before it
would lapse; two, that the president should call and speak with the VP; and
three, that the president should forward a letter to the National Assembly so that
Jonathan could serve as acting president.

While the First Lady promised to help push the first two propositions, on the
issue of a letter to the National Assembly, she said she would not dabble into
that.
On 24 December, Edevbie visited the VP at Aguda House to inform him of his
proposed trip and to retrieve the bills, which were in the possession of his
principal secretary, Mike Oghiadome. Two days later, he left for Saudi Arabia
aboard one of the smaller jets from the presidential fleet. On arrival in Jeddah, he
was received by the ADC and officials of the Nigerian embassy, after which they
drove to the hotel where the presidential entourage was residing. Apparently, it
was one of the Saudi king’s guest houses reserved for visiting heads of state.

When Edevbie later arrived at the King Faisal Hospital, he met with the CPP and
CSO, who informed him that the president was asleep and that when he awakes
later, he would see him. He was then shown around the hospital floor and private
wing where the president was briefly resident, and through the glass, he could
see the president on his hospital bed. He gave both the CPP and the CSO an
update of events in Nigeria and returned to the hotel.

The following day, he went back to the King Faisal Hospital and was informed
that though the president was awake, he was very weak. He was also told that
the medical personnel were reluctant to allow any visitors into his room because
he had caught an infection from previous visitors. Subsequently, Edevbie left the
documents for the president’s signature at his convenience and returned to the
hotel. The following day, he was back at the King Faisal hospital and received
the bills duly signed and dated on the three pages as required.

There have been questions as to who actually signed the budget, but I confirmed
from the security agents around him that the president actually did after a
laborious medical process. But it doesn’t also require an expert to see how much
he must have struggled to sign the three copies.

Even though Edevbie’s desire was to wait until he could meet with the president
personally, in view of the urgency of the situation, he had to come back
immediately. He arrived in Nigeria on 29 December, 2009. The following day,
he went to see the VP in his office. But while that may have resolved the
problem with the budget, Nigerians were increasingly getting frustrated with a
president who had for weeks been hospitalized in a foreign land.

12
The Power Struggle

Things seemed to be looking up for the president, having both successfully

navigated the dilemma about whether the swearing in of the chief justice of
Nigeria was a statutory necessity and also signing the appropriation bill. But the
temporary relief that these accomplishments brought for the president was
shattered by the December 25, 2009, attempt by Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab to
blow up a US Delta airline en route to Detroit from Amsterdam.

The incident drew condemnation from around the world, with the US
government imposing stricter security measures for US-bound passengers. It also
earned Nigeria an ignoble slide on the world stage, as it was branded a ‘country
of interest’ by the American authorities. The grim reality was that our country
got blacklisted along with Iran, Algeria, Syria, Lebanon, Libya, Sudan, Iraq,
Afghanistan, Pakistan, and Somalia.

Given that the president had been out of circulation for more than one month, the
global searchlight, which the sanction caused to be beamed on Nigeria, only
helped worsen things. This, quite predictably, heightened the political crisis back
home at the beginning of 2010. But as it would emerge, some people were also
surreptitiously contriving their own solution.

On the morning of January 13, 2010, I got a call from an upbeat AGF asking
whether I had heard about the court pronouncement that the VP could in fact act
for the president without any letter. He exuded enthusiasm and spoke of being
vindicated. Not long after his phone call, I received several calls from Saudi
Arabia and congratulatory text messages from a few supporters of the president
back home. It didn’t take long for me to realize what was going on.

A federal high court in Abuja presided over by Chief Judge Dan Abutu had
declared that with the VP already acting for President Yar’Adua, there was no
vacuum whatsoever in the discharge of the functions of the president’s office.

In the suit, which received express treatment from Justice Abutu, the court was
asked to determine whether the VP, under the provisions of sections 5 (1) and
148 (1) of the Nigerian constitution, could exercise the executive powers vested
in the president in the absence of the president and whether the VP could
lawfully discharge any or all of the functions of the president in the absence of
the president in the interest of peace, order and good governance of the
federation pending when the president would resume and take over. The plaintiff
wanted the court to declare that given the combined provisions of those two
sections, the VP could indeed exercise the executive powers vested in the
president and could also lawfully discharge all his functions pending when he
would resume and take over.

It didn’t require any investigation to ascertain the brains behind this whole
judicial maneuvering.

In the supporting affidavit to the originating summons, the plaintiff confirmed

that the president had not transmitted any written declaration to the Senate
president and the speaker of the House of Representatives and that the Federal
Republic of Nigeria did not at that period have a head of government. He also
stated that if the declarations sought were not granted, the country would plunge
into social and economic gloom and constitutional crisis as there would be no
functioning government.

Having earlier submitted a counter affidavit that there was no statutory

requirement for the president to transmit a written declaration to the National
Assembly whenever he was traveling out of the country, the AGF was present in
court as Justice Abutu ruled that the VP had been lawfully discharging the
functions of the president’s office on the strength of the delegation by the
president of his duties to him in his capacity as vice president. It was this
‘judgement’ that supporters of the president, including many governors, were
celebrating and quoting. Instructively, many of the governors had always taken
the position that invariably denied there was any vacuum. But in spite of the
euphoria in some quarters, the ruling hardly calmed the simmering discontent in
the country. At the presidential villa, the ruling was derided as a mere
contrivance of the AGF to cause further confusion in the polity.

The VP had a particularly deep insight about this ruling. It was simply a rehash
of the letter the AGF had written to him earlier, so it was not surprising that he
chose to act on that insight. At a meeting with his aides, it was decided that he
should not accept anything short of a letter to the National Assembly by the
president. But once, when it became obvious that such a letter was not
forthcoming, he was advised to sit and watch events unfold.

At that period, Jonathan had a strong ally in Yayale who was monitoring events
in Saudi Arabia and whose contacts were feeding him information about the
actual state of the president. Early in December, the SGF and VP had agreed that
the former should go to Saudi Arabia to see the president. When the First Lady
was contacted, she initially expressed delight about the idea. But shortly after,
the SGF got a call from the CSO, saying the president did not approve the visit.
There was an argument between the duo, with the SGF insisting that he would
not take orders from the CSO and that he would come.

He indeed got his visa and made all the arrangements, but before he could travel,
the VP

called to plead with him to shelve the idea. He said the CSO had called for him
to intervene. The SGF and the CSO both hail from Bauchi, so there is an element
of local politics in their relationship, which was never cordial, but even though
that trip was aborted, the SGF still monitored events in Saudi Arabia on a daily
basis.

As the dilemma persisted, my frustration too spiraled. Fortunately, I found a

window of escape in the African Cup of Nations Football tournament in Angola
due to kick off on January 10. As a member of the Presidential Task Force on
2010 World Cup in South Africa, that earned me the status of official delegate to
the Angola tournament.

A few hours after my arrival in the southwestern African country, my nightmare

resurfaced: I saw a deluge of text messages on my cell phone, most of them
asking whether it was true that the president had died. The rumour, from what I
would later gather, followed the publication by NEXT newspaper that Yar’Adua
had suffered severe brain damage and could no longer recognize anyone,
including his wife.

While there were factual inaccuracies in the publication, it nonetheless provoked

action in Saudi Arabia, because for the first time, they saw the sense of urgency
back home and how fast the president was losing legitimacy. I had a rather
lengthy discussion with the CSO in Saudi Arabia, and he confirmed that Jamilah
Tangaza, editor of BBC Hausa Service, had already contacted them about the
possibility of an interview with the president, if indeed he was alive.

I was quite familiar with Jamilah; as a matter of fact, I feel somewhat obligated
to her.
She had on one occasion flown into Abuja from London for a scheduled
interview with the president, and I stayed with her as we waited for the session.
It turned out to be one of those days when the president worked till very late in
the office. When he closed at about 9:30 p.m., he pleaded that the interview be
rescheduled for the next day. Since Jamilah had to leave for London the next
morning, the interview had to be cancelled, and I felt really bad, as she left the
villa disappointed. So, it was gratifying to learn that she would be having an
interview with the president, particularly as I was convinced that her reputation
as a thoroughbred professional well respected for her integrity would help defuse
the adverse public opinion. If only she could have the interview.

The alternative contemplated then was for me to take a few reporters from
Nigeria to Saudi Arabia for the interview, even though it was easy to perceive
some reluctance. But having now gained some useful insight, I’m certain that
even if we had traveled to Saudi Arabia, it would have been no more than an
organized waste of time. Eventually the BBC

interview was done after the station had ensured their correspondent in Saudi
Arabia visited the president in the hospital to ascertain he was indeed the one
with whom they were speaking.

Before the interview was aired, however, I had spoken to the media back home
to debunk the rumour that the president was dead. I also decided I had to go back
to Nigeria and the Rivers State governor, Mr. Rotimi Amaechi, arranged an
aircraft for me.

The BBC interview was aired, but rather than allay public scepticism, it merely
reinforced the perception that the president was indeed infirm. It was a view held
both by those who believed the interview was genuine and those who argued it
was contrived.

Any discerning listener could easily notice how the president laboured and
strained himself in an interview that lasted less than 90 seconds. And what did
he say? “At the moment, I am undergoing treatment, and I am getting better
from the treatment. I hope that very soon, there will be tremendous progress,
which will allow me to get back home.

As soon as my doctors discharge me, I will return to Nigeria to resume my

duties.” The speculations in Abuja that the interview was a fraud and that the
president was in a coma and could not have granted any interview only raised
the stakes further at the PDP

board of trustees (BOT) meeting held in Abuja on January 14, 2010. Chaired by
Obasanjo and attended by Jonathan, it was certainly bound to be interesting.
Although the issue of the president’s health was not on the agenda, it was not
because the members would rather not dwell on the touchy issue; it was because
the intention was for it to be raised under AOB (any other business). With all the
items discussed, former minister of agriculture, Alhaji Adamu Waziri, was
acknowledged to speak.

Waziri was said to have begun by stating how disappointed he was that at a time
when the nation was ‘burning’, when there was a vacuum in leadership, the
board of trustees was discussing what he described as irrelevant matters. The
most important issue in the country, he told the gathering, was the health of the
president and the need for him to transmit a letter to the National Assembly so
that the VP could formally become the acting president. Failure to do this, he
warned, could lead the country into serious constitutional crisis.

After Waziri spoke, the floor was yielded to Chief Emmanuel Iwuanyanwu, who
argued that issues pertaining to the health of the president had been dealt with by
the institution empowered to deal with it: the Federal Executive Council. He said
there was no vacuum, since the VP was in charge of the country in the absence
of his boss, a position that he said had been affirmed by the federal high court in
Abuja. As far as he was concerned, the health of the president ought not to be an
issue for discussion at the meeting, Former Speaker of the House of
Representatives, Hon. Aminu Bello Masari’s comment was brusque and
scathing: The president was holding the nation to ransom, and a constitutional
crisis was being unwittingly created by his failure to hand over to the vice
president.

But the submission of former Senate president Anyim Pius Anyim was
conciliatory. He argued that there was a need for proper guidance in the
discussion, noting that contributors must be able to distinguish between the
health of the president and the health of the nation. On the health of the
president, he argued that it should be recognized that as a human being, the
president could fall sick, in which case he had the right to seek medical attention
wherever he chose.
On the health of the nation, he said that the normal thing was for the president to
brief members, and since he was not around, it was incumbent on the VP to brief
the board and state the challenges he was facing. According to Anyim, since the
VP, who was at the meeting, had not complained to anybody that there was a
vacuum or that he was not in charge, nobody should put words into his
(Jonathan’s) mouth.

There were several other comments before Chief Barnabas Gemade urged
Obasanjo to intervene and end what he described as “an unnecessary debate.” He
said the meeting had gone on for too long and that the polity was being
overheated by professional agitators who ought to have been ignored.

Obasanjo was said to have interjected at this point that before he’d left home in
the morning, he’d prayed for God to grant him the patience to listen to
everybody, and for that reason, he would allow all the BOT members to air their
views before ruling on the matter.

He was true to his word: he recognized everybody who signified an intention to

speak, after which he rounded off by saying that the situation in the country was
both unusual and not right. He said he had held the topmost position in Nigeria
as well as having been the second-in-command, so he could sympathize with
Jonathan. “The fact is that never in the history of Nigeria have we had this kind
of tension that we have today when there is a vacuum in leadership. There is no
commander in chief and the vice president has no power. Some people cannot
see the danger, so let me make it very clear by asking: what if there is a military
coup?”

Waving a copy of the 1999 Constitution, which he had brought along to the
meeting, Obasanjo dismissed Abutu’s court judgement as he made references to
different sections of the constitution to highlight the distinctions. At the end, he
announced the constitution of a committee to be headed by former PDP national
chairman, Dr. Ahmadu Ali, whose task was to issue a press statement wherein
the BOT would call on the president to transmit a letter to the National
Assembly for the VP to act. “Whenever the president comes back, he can then
take over his seat,” he added.

While Mrs. Josephine Anenih immediately endorsed this position, Dr. Haliru
Bello was said to have counseled against it on the grounds that it would
contradict the position earlier adopted by the PDP National Working Committee.
Besides, Bello explained that it was unusual for the BOT, ordinarily an advisory
organ of the party, to issue press statements. Most of the members agreed with
him that the wise step would be to refrain from issuing any statement.

On a jocular note, Anyim said, “Since Baba said President Yar’Adua should
transmit a letter to the National Assembly in compliance with Section 145, what
I expected you to say, sir, is that you will go to Saudi Arabia, collect the letter
from your successor, and when you come back, we will hail you for resolving
the problem....” Obasanjo’s response was terse: “What if I don’t come back?”
The meeting ended on that note, but the former president was clearly unhappy
that a public pronouncement had been shunned by the BOT on the issue. He
would, however, have his opportunity a few days later, with a rather devastating
effect.

At an event organized by Daily Trust newspaper where Obasanjo was a special

guest alongside South Africa’s Mrs. Winnie Mandela, the former president spoke
on sundry issues, and at the close of the session fielded questions, not
surprisingly, on the Yar’Adua problem. In reply to a question suggesting he may
have deliberately imposed an invalid president on the nation, Obasanjo gave
what may well have been a well-rehearsed retort:

“You have raised a vital question, and you will get an answer. When in 2006, the
issue of succession came up, I was convinced that a southerner succeeding me
would not augur well for Nigeria. You may agree with that, you may not agree.
Now, I was looking for somebody who would succeed me who has three
important qualities: One, he has enough intellectual capacity to run the affairs of
this nation; two, he has sufficient personal integrity to run the affairs of this
country; three, he is sufficiently broadminded enough, politically, religiously,
socially, whatever, to manage the affairs of the country. These three were
important and very primary to me.

“Then to ‘Umoru’ Yar’Adua, the current president. I know he had a kidney

problem and was under dialysis. Sometime earlier, he had gone abroad for
almost six months when he was governor of Katsina. When the idea came for
him to contest, I asked him, and he gave me a medical report. The medical report
shows that he [had] turned off dialysis. I asked experts who then told me that if
you are on dialysis and you are no longer on dialysis, it means you have had a
successful kidney transplant and that you can live for as long as you may wish to
live.
“Now, that was the situation before we went campaigning, and you remember at
one stage of the campaigns, it was intense, he was run down. The chairman of
our party, Ahmadu, also had a similar challenge. Ali didn’t go abroad for
medical check-up, but he (Yar’Adua) went abroad for medical check-up, and the
rumour was that he was dead.

And I phoned him and put the phone on speaker and said: ‘Umoru, are you
dead?’ and you heard his voice live and clear, and he came back and continued
the campaign. That was the true situation.

“To the best of my knowledge, Yar’Adua wasn’t on dialysis after that. When the
issue of dialysis came, he was well into the first year, which must mean one
thing: that the kidney transplant is failing. If that is the case, that is an emergency
situation for which you cannot put the blame on me. So for people to say, I,
Olusegun Obasanjo, deliberately picked somebody who is an invalid, I think is
the height of insult. How can I, who [have]

given so much to this country, both in peace and in war time, give the running of
this country to somebody who will run it down? If you fear God you will not
make that statement.

“If you say there is a constitutional crisis or no constitutional crisis, I will not
comment on that. What I needed to say on that I have said as the chairman of my
party’s board of trustees last week. But the one I need to say is the fact that
nobody picked Yar’Adua so that he will not perform. If I did that, God will
punish me. Yes, I love this country so much that there is no way I could do that.

“If you take an appointment, a job, elected, appointed, whatever it is, and then
your health starts to fail, and you realize you will not be able to deliver to satisfy
yourself and the people you are supposed to serve, then there is a path of honour
you are supposed to take. There is a path of honour and morality, and if you
don’t know that, then you don’t know anything.”

Obasanjo’s remark was, quite naturally, the headliner for all news outlets, as
many people picked up from there with intense pressure, calling on the president
to transmit a letter to the National Assembly. A few days later, another ethnic
crisis broke out in Jos during which several people were killed. The tragedy also
served as a reminder to Nigerians about the fact that their leader was nowhere to
be seen even in the face of increasing pressure by different groups that he should
cede power to the VP.

On the strength of these, I had extensive discussions with both the ADC and the
CSO, pleading with them to prevail on the president to transmit the letter to the
National Assembly. I told them that some of the individuals canvassing a
contrary view were actually saying an altogether different thing back home. I
said Nigeria was regressing to a situation almost similar to the ‘Third Term’
days. “If we don’t manage the current situation well, power will slip away from
the president within a matter of weeks,” I told them.

The days went by, and they soon rolled into weeks. Yet, the issue of the
president’s return from Saudi Arabia remained a matter of conjecture. At this
point, handlers of the VP had advised him to begin to assert himself, and the first
evidence of this came when the Nigerian Television Authority (NTA) director
general, Mallam Usman Muhammed Magawata, called to inform me that he had
been getting intense heat from Aso Rock. He said the fact that the national
broadcast by the VP on the Jos crisis was not preceded by the national anthem
was already generating problems for him. I recall that he had called to seek my
opinion on this before the broadcast was aired by NTA, and my response was for
him to use his professional judgement. I did not, honestly, think the national
anthem should be played for the broadcast by the VP, and I said so. But as I also
told him at the time, it was his call.

The VP, however, took exception to this, and the next day, he directed the
minister of state for information and communication, Aliyu Ikra Bilbis, to issue
the NTA director general a query to explain the reason why the station did not air
the national anthem before his broadcast on Thursday, January 21, 2010. “This
anomaly, which breached the usual protocol that ought to have been accorded the
very high office of the Vice President of the Federal Republic of Nigeria, calls
for urgent explanation. You should therefore explain within the next twenty four
hours why disciplinary action should not be taken against you,” Bilbis wrote in
his query to the director general.

Magawata’s response was quite apologetic. He explained that leaving out the
anthem was neither deliberate nor intended to belittle the person or office of the
number two citizen.

When he was informed via a text message that a statement would be coming
from the VP, he said, “Considering the current mood of the nation, the
management discussed, rubbed minds and consulted sister agencies before
finally deciding that in order to avoid a breach of protocol, NTA should not
broadcast with [the] National Anthem. However, if this has offended His
Excellency, the Vice President, I sincerely apologise.” Without doubt, the power
struggle had begun, and the battleground had shifted to the Federal Executive
Council. At the FEC session on January 27, 2010, the SGF excused all the
secretariat/support staff from the council chambers. The only persons that were
allowed to stay behind were ministers as well as the principal aides to the
president, and the VP.

With the chambers cleared, the VP asked the SGF to brief council members on
what had transpired at the Senate, to which he had been invited. Six days before
—Thursday, January 21—the SGF had appeared before the Senate, following
their resolution, to give a briefing on the health condition of the president. But
the session was a closed-door affair, even though snippets were published in the
newspapers. Now, his task was to brief the FEC on what had actually transpired
between him and the senators.

In his presentation before the FEC, the SGF said he spent about two hours with
the senators, who posed to him about 30 questions, “most of them repetitive of
the earlier ones.” He summarized the questions into six: The first was on the
actual status of the president’s health, into which he was asked to offer some
insight. He said he told the Senate that even though he had no evidence to show
them, he believed the president was recovering. Making allusion to the BBC
interview where the president spoke about his recovery and the fact that he
would soon be home, he said he told the senators he had no reason not to believe
the president was recovering from his ailment.

The second question was why he had not gone to Saudi Arabia to visit the
president, given his status as the SGF. Yayale said he responded that he was
aware of many people within the Senate chambers who were friends and
relatives of the president. Since these people had also not gone to visit the
president, his going or not going to Saudi Arabia should therefore not be an
issue. He said he reminded the senators of the experiences of the House of
Representatives delegation that went to Saudi Arabia.

The third question posed was why the president seemed reluctant to comply with
Section 145 of the constitution, which required him to transmit a letter to the
National Assembly to empower the VP to act whenever he was not around. He
said he argued that the president once wrote a similar letter, signed it, but that the
special adviser on National Assembly, Senator Abba Aji, failed to deliver it. He
said he told the senators that he knew this to be a fact because he actually helped
to draft the letter. He said he argued further that the president would not fail to
make such formal notification whenever he considered it expedient to do so.

The follow-up question to that from the Senate was if the president could sign
the budget even when he was away, why did he not transmit the requisite letter
from his hospital bed in Saudi Arabia? The SGF said he responded by telling
them that while the budget was time bound, the letter was not.

He said another senator sought to know why FEC members had yet to invoke
Section 144

of the constitution, which empowered them to begin the process that would
declare the president permanently incapacitated, given the fact of his long
absence from the country.

He said he responded by asking the senator who posed the question what his
own preoccupation would be if the person who appointed him as minister fell ill:
would it be to seek the downfall of his principal or to continue to pray for his
recovery?

The last question, according to the SGF, was in relation to when the president
would return. He said he told them that he had no clue. Yayale said he could
discern some ethnic and sectional undertones in the contributions of the senators
but that they all treated him with respect and praised his candour.

With the briefing over, the VP then urged the AGF to speak on the implications
of the order by the federal high court in Abuja, which a few days earlier gave the
FEC 14 days to prove medically that President Yar’Adua was fit to perform his
duties. This was another Justice Abutu ruling, and it compelled the FEC to
ascertain whether by the fact that the president had been away on a medical
treatment since November 23, 2009, he (Yar’ Adua) should not be declared
incapable of performing his presidential duties. “The FEC should resolve
whether the president is capable of performing his presidential functions or not
and pass a resolution to that effect,” the judge had ordered.

The AGF had brought up this matter as an item under any other business (AOB).
He described it as a potentially dangerous issue, which had to be handled
carefully, warning that FEC members acting in their individual capacity could
run foul of contempt. While the AGF sounded altruistic in leading discussions
on the need for the council to take a position one way or another so as to comply
with the court ruling, all he wanted was a situation where the FEC would simply
make its position clear on the issue of invoking Section 143, considering that at
that point, the consensus was that to declare Yar’Adua incapacitated would be
very dangerous.

Aside from the political and ethnic undertones in the debate that ensued, the
health minister, Prof. Babatunde Osotimehin, a renowned medical practitioner,
had also argued that even from a medical point of view, what the constitution
required the FEC to do was impracticable. He said no medical doctor could
pronounce anybody permanently incapacitated, especially someone that had not
been physically examined.

The background to the debate started with a suit against the AGF and the FEC
over the indefinite absence of the president. It was filed by former House of
Representatives minority leader, Mr. Farouk Aliyu and the chairman of the
Jigawa State chapter of the Nigerian Bar Association (NBA), Mr. Sani Gabbas.
The plaintiffs, through their counsel, Mr. Bamidele Aturu, asked the court to
determine whether the resolution of the FEC at its meeting of December 2, 2009,
to the effect that Yar’Adua was capable of discharging his functions as president
of Nigeria, was constitutional. Aturu contended that the seat of the president had
been vacant since November 23, 2009, when the nation ceased to have a leader.
He urged the court to compel Vice President Goodluck Jonathan to start carrying
out the functions of the president, adding that “it is unlawful, pursuant to the
Public Service Rules, for Yar’Adua to be absent from the office without going
through due process.”

Aturu further prayed the court to rule that the president’s failure to write the
Senate president and the Speaker of the House of Representatives, before going
on medical vacation on November 23, was “illegal and unconstitutional, as it
violates Section 145 of the constitution.”

Even though the AGF, who appeared in person, had argued that the suit was
premature and lacked locus standi, he felt he could exploit the ruling therefrom,
which merely compelled members to take one position or another on whether or
not the president should be declared incapacitated. After his preamble, the VP
said he would want the lawyers in the chambers to speak first in order to lend
perspectives to the debate. After the lawyers had had their say, the VP said he
wanted the views of former governors in the council so they could speak with
the benefit of experience, especially with regard to their relationship with their
deputies. The FCT minister, Aliero, a two-term governor of Kebbi; commerce
minister, Achike Udenwa, his former colleague from Imo State; and the
education minister, Dr. Sam Egwu (also a former two-term governor of Ebonyi
state) spoke with passion on the need for constitutionalism and trust. They also
praised the VP

for the way he had been handling the issue of the president’s long absence from
the country. They, however, were emphatic on one point: they were not in favour
of invoking Section 143.

Amidst laughter, Egwu recounted a personal experience that had occurred when
he once travelled for his medicals at a time when his deputy was also outside the
state. He said he had written a letter to the Speaker of the state House of
Assembly to act for him. “Hardly did the guy even allow me to leave the state
capital before he moved into my office, sat on my chair and started barking
orders. The only thing the fellow did not take over was my wife!”

In the end, the AGF got what he wanted because the FEC officially decided to
stand by their earlier resolution not to invoke Section 144 of the constitution,
thus securing another reprieve for the president. That same day, however, the
Senate, after two days of closed sessions, resolved that the president should
formally notify it of his medical vacation.

How that would be done was not stated, neither was there any threat of sanction
should their resolution be disobeyed. Although only a few people took the
resolution seriously, it yet added to the pressure that was increasingly being felt
in Saudi Arabia.

That resolution, a compromise in itself, did not come easily since the Senate had
by then broken into three factions: the pro-Yar’Adua group, the pro-Jonathan
group, and a third group, which was also anti-Yar’Adua but not necessarily pro-
Jonathan. The pro-Yar’Adua group had succeeded in scuttling the prayer to send
a delegation to Saudi Arabia to visit Yar’Adua as well as the motion to invite the
CPP, Dr. Salisu Banye, to come home to brief the Senate on Yar’Adua’s
condition. Senate President Mark had deftly ensured that the motion to visit
Yar’Adua did not sail through. He had also staved off attempts by some senators
citing constitutional points of order to raise Sections 143

(on impeachment for the gross misconduct of being away from his duty post for
more than 42 days) and 144 (on incapacitation). But the Senate president was
only just biding his time.

Section 143 (1) reads:

The President or Vice-President may be removed from office in accordance with

the provisions of this section. (2) Whenever a notice of any allegation in writing
signed by not less than one-third of the members of the National Assembly (a) is
presented to the President of the Senate; (b) stating that the holder of the office
of President or Vice-President is guilty of gross misconduct in the performance
of the functions of his office, detailed particulars of which shall be specified, the
President of the Senate shall within seven days of the receipt of the notice cause
a copy thereof to be served on the holder of the office and on each member of
the National Assembly, and shall also cause any statement made in reply to all
the allegations by the holder of the office to be served on each member of the
National Assembly.

The controversy had yet to abate when some 41 politicians led by a former
President of the Senate, Senator Anyim Pius Anyim, and his deputy, Senator
Ibrahim Mantu, called on Yar’Adua to urgently transmit a letter of his
incapacitation to the National Assembly to salvage the nation’s democracy from
danger. Noting the anxiety raised by the absence of the president from the
country, the group said what was required in the interim was a letter signed by
the president: “You can agree that neither the letter nor the signature can be
obtained through protest, threat or even bringing down our democracy. We
believe, like many others do, that it is not in the best interest of this nation—or
any other nation for that matter—to be without concrete authority at any time,
more so in an executive presidential system of government. We also believe that
the leaders of this nation and more so our elected representatives have a very
serious duty to manage our national challenges to ensure national stability and
democracy.” The group observed also that the Yar’Adua situation had exposed
the weakness of the 1999 Constitution, hence the need to begin a process of
amendment “with a view to preventing future occurrences. In the interim, what
is required is a letter under the signature of Mr. President,” Anyim said.

Mark’s response was that the National Assembly would be guided by the
constitution in whatever action they deemed appropriate to resolve the Yar’Adua
logjam. “Yes, there are obvious problems, and we admit that there are problems,
and the solution must be found in the constitution itself. What I want to appeal is
for Nigerians to understand that in finding the solutions, we are concerned and
worried about the unity and stability of the country, we do not want to do
anything that will aggravate the current situation. If they exercise patience with
us we will definitely find a lasting solution within the constitution itself.”

Mark’s admonition was instructive because later that day, leaders from the
South-South zone of the country also called on members of the National
Assembly to pass a resolution authorizing the swearing in of Jonathan as the
acting president of the Federal Republic of Nigeria. The group noted that their
silence over the controversy caused by President Yar’Adua’s failure to hand over
to Jonathan since the former left the country November 23, 2009, on medical
grounds, must not be taken for granted. In a communiqué laden with ethnic
undertones and read by Ijaw leader and former federal information
commissioner, Chief Edwin Clark, the body condemned those working against
the emergence of Jonathan as acting president, calling them unpatriotic people
who were seeking for the division and collapse of the country: “We kept quiet
for various reasons; we kept quiet over the period this thing has been happening
because we believe it is a national issue, [a] Nigerian issue, but we have decided
to speak because so much [has]

been said so far, and things are also going out of hand.” The federal legislators
were certainly feeling the heat to help avert what had become an impending
crisis. On January 29, 2010, former head of state, General Yakubu Gowon,
Second Republic president, Alhaji Shehu Shagari, and former head of the
interim national government, Chief Ernest Shonekan joined in the call for
Yar’Adua to transmit a letter of medical vacation to the National Assembly in
line with Section 145 of the constitution to enable Jonathan to act as president.

The association, which identified itself as the Eminent Elders Group (EEG), also
comprised retired chief justices of Nigeria and several politicians. Other
members of the group included Second Republic vice president, Dr. Alex
Ekwueme; former chief justices, Mohammed Lawal Uwais, Alfa Belgore, and
Idris Kutigi; other prominent citizens like Danjuma, Chief Solomon Lar, Mallam
Ahmed Joda, and Mallam Adamu Ciroma. Their statement, signed by Gowon,
was presented to the National Assembly by a delegation led by Shagari. They
said that in order to resolve the political crisis, President Yar’Adua had to
comply with Section 145 of the constitution. Arguing that it was important for
the president to formally issue the necessary communication that would enable
the VP to become acting president, the former leaders said Yar’Adua’s long
absence from the country on account of his illness had become a matter of
concern: “For well over eight weeks now, our president has been ill and out of
the country. This illness and long absence from the country is causing serious
concern not only to Nigerian citizens but [to] all those who do business with
Nigeria and have the well-being of the country at heart,” they argued.

Shagari presented the letter with an admonition: All critical stakeholders in the
country should heed the group’s advice that it’s expedient to prevent the political
crisis brought about by the president’s illness from escalating.

The most critical push, however, began inside the FEC meeting on February 3,
2010, when information and communication minister, Professor Dora Akunyili,
attempted to read a paper titled ‘State of the Nation’, which essentially sought to
highlight the exigency of the president transmitting a letter to the National
Assembly to enable the VP

to take on the designation of acting president.

Earlier, before the FEC session, Akunyili, with whom I have had a long-term
cordial relationship, called me outside the chambers and said, “Segun, my
conscience can no longer allow me to keep quiet on this issue of the president’s
absence from the country. I intend to speak about it today in FEC. What do you
think?” I had no idea that she had already a prepared text and so advised her
against the idea. She knew the way I also felt and my frustrations, but I pointed
out the implications to her, upon which she promised to think about what I had
said. Yet, I sensed that her mind was made up. She said the information at her
disposal was that the president was on life support in Saudi Arabia and that
Nigerians were being told lies about the state of his health.

Inside the FEC meeting, it was not until after all the memos had been presented
that Akunyili told the VP that she had a paper to distribute but was challenged by
a member who noted that such an attempt was in breach of procedure. She could
not ‘ambush’ the council, the member argued, and added that if Akunyili had a
paper to present either in the form of a memo or note, it ought to have been sent
to the council secretariat ahead.

Of course, the paper had been circulated anyway, and members were already
reading it before it was asked to be withdrawn. The message was already out: the
FEC was divided!

Akunyili was asked to submit her write-up in a memo form to the council
secretariat so that it could be taken by the next FEC session. By the time the
FEC session rounded up that day, however, the content was already in the media.

Akunyili’s position was that the president’s absence from the country had
created a difficult dilemma for the FEC, which it could no longer ignore: “There
has been persistent agitation by the public for members of the Federal Executive
Council to do something. Nigerians expect us to rise to this challenge on behalf
of our President as the leader of this administration. Some eminent citizens have
spoken. They include former Heads of State and others who have served our
nation in various capacities. The Senate has also taken a position of which we
are all aware. The looming crisis in the system is over-boiling. Our hard-earned
democracy is being threatened by the day.” Arguing that the polity had become
overheated to an intolerable level, Akunyili said posterity would judge members
harshly if they did not positively intervene to resolve this logjam. “He (President
Yar’Adua) has been away for about 70 days now, even if he returns tomorrow, is
it not better for him to rest and recover before taking over from the Vice
President? We need to do what is morally right and constitutional for the
President to officially hand over to the Vice President to function as Acting
President. If he does not, we can evoke whichever aspect of the constitution that
should make the Vice President an Acting President.”

Despite the uncertainty in the country, the PDP leadership still proved to be one
of the strongest pillars for Yar’Adua. Visiting the VP on the day Akunyili
released her note within the FEC chambers, the party’s top hierarchy more or
less foreclosed any handing over to Jonathan. In what he described as a
solidarity visit meant to encourage the VP on his resilience in discharging his
duty in the absence of the president, PDP chairman, Chief Vincent Ogbulafor,
quoted for Jonathan Psalm 62:11 of the Holy Bible, which says, “God has
spoken once, twice I have heard; power belongs to God.” He said further:
“Throughout this period, you have demonstrated patriotism and measure (sic) of
loyalty and statesmanship. You have through exemplary selflessness held the
government and the country together in spite of the mischief of a few. We wish
to place on record our deepest satisfaction with the manner you have steadied the
ship of state in the absence of His Excellency, the president and commander in
chief of the armed forces of the Federal Republic of Nigeria, Alhaji Umaru
Yar’Adua.

“You have discharged your duties in the absence of Mr. President with
distinction. We are proud that you have refused to be distracted by needless
debates and controversies originating from some of our opponents. We maintain
our earlier assertion that with you effectively [in] the saddle, there is no vacuum
in the presidency.” Unknown to Ogbulafor, by saying there was no vacuum in
Aso Rock—words that obviously riled the VP and his handlers—the PDP
chairman was inadvertently digging his own political grave. But his position was
not substantially different from the stance taken by the governors who met in
Abuja on February 4, 2010. “The Forum also identified with the judgement of
the courts on the same and agrees that the position of Acting President could be
either verbal or written and the Vice President has been appropriately acting
admirably,” they stated in the communiqué issued at the end of their meeting.
This also did not go unnoticed at the villa.

But by then Mark had decided the time had come for the Senate to intervene
decisively to arrest the national drift. That was how the idea of a National
Assembly resolution, which would empower Jonathan to be acting president,
began to crystallize. By this time, though, it was obvious that Jonathan had
decided that taking a more proactive political stance was the right path to tread.
As he raised the stakes, the governors realized that they needed him to ensure the
survival of the democratic project. It seemed that at this point a military coup
was no longer far-fetched.

After a meeting with the VP and another session with the leadership of the
National Assembly, it was decided that the two houses should pass a resolution
empowering Jonathan to become the acting president. How this was to be done
was left to the leadership. Still, at this period, some close allies of Jonathan had
told him to begin to wield presidential power, as it was evident that Yar’Adua’s
presidency was gradually coming to an end.
13
Doctrine of Necessity

Gathered in the office of Vice President Goodluck Jonathan on the morning of

Friday January 5, 2010, were PDP national chairman, Chief Vincent Ogbulafor;
deputy national chairman, Dr. Haliru Bello as well as national secretary,
Abubakar Baraje. Also in the room were Senate president, David Mark; his
deputy, Ike Ekweremadu; and House of Representatives Speaker, Dimeji
Bankole. There were also the Kwara State governor and chairman of the
Governors’ Forum, Dr. Bukola Saraki; the AGF, Aondoakaa, and Chief Mike
Oghiadome, Jonathan’s principal secretary. The single item on the meeting
agenda was the Justice Abutu ruling, which held that the VP could act for the
president without any formal transfer of power.

Leading the discussion was Aondoakaa, who argued that with the judgement, the
political crisis had been resolved because the VP could then begin to act for the
president.

He was backed by Saraki and Bankole, with Ogbulafor, Bello and Baraje also
leaning towards endorsing the position. But there was strong resistance from
Mark, who argued that the Abutu judgement offered no practical solution
because there was no way Jonathan could forward bills or any official
correspondence to the Senate in his capacity as vice president and expect it to be
accepted.

Bankole, however, said the House would have no problem with receiving such
correspondences from Jonathan. That created a stalemate. At that period, Mark
had concluded that the only way forward was for Jonathan to have the
constitutional power to be acting president. He also believed that the people
around the president were not helping matters by using subterfuge to hide the
critical nature of his health from important stakeholders. At the time, Mark was
used to receiving phony calls from Saudi Arabia by officials who would ask him
“to wait for the president” only to be told after a few minutes that they would
call back because the president who had ‘initiated’ the call could no longer be
reached.

Because Mark was aware of what was going on, he sought to know from
Aondoakaa and the governors what objection they had to making Jonathan the
acting president.

Apparently uncomfortable with the question, they all said that they had none and
praised the vice president. Yet, what they were proposing was to use Jonathan to
avert a constitutional crisis created by the absence of the president without
legally investing Jonathan with the power to act in his stead. At the end, the
meeting could not reach any useful conclusion because Mark was insistent that
the Senate was not going to recognize the Abutu ruling.

Apparently sensing that the crisis was getting more complicated, the Senate
president spent the weekend making a series of consultations. First, he invited
the lawyers among the Senators to a meeting where he mandated them to review
Abutu’s judgement and give him advice within 48 hours. He also told them to
invite Aondoakaa to brief them before they came up with their conclusion.

At his session with the lawyer-senators, the AGF could only convince a few of
the members about the need to use the Abutu judgement to resolve the crisis, as
the majority of the senators felt that there was no solution in the ruling. They
therefore recommended to Mark that he should make it clear to Jonathan and the
governors that the Senate would not accept the Abutu ruling as a solution to the
problem. But it was not a unanimous decision; some of them endorsed the
position of the AGF on the ruling, but they were a clear minority.

On Monday, January 8, Mark received in audience a group of prominent citizens,

among them Lt. General T.Y. Danjuma and former chief justice of the federation,
Belgore. It was agreed at the meeting that Yar’Adua would never have allowed
the kind of crisis the nation was going through if he was in a position to
intervene, so the conclusion was that he was oblivious to what was happening in
the country. It was also resolved that the National Assembly had to intervene to
save the situation.

In the course of discussion, Mark had casually asked Belgore, “Your Lordship,
the logical thing to do now is to make Jonathan the acting president. How do you
think we can navigate this situation legally?” Belgore had said the constitution
recognized the Doctrine of Necessity, which he said the Senate could apply.

Mark had actually toyed with the idea of the doctrine, but instructively, Justice
Abutu’s ruling (which had Aondoakaa’s imprint) had categorically stated that the
Doctrine of Necessity would not apply in resolving the crisis. But with Belgore
arguing that it was the most plausible solution, Mark decided that it was the way
the Senate would go. He called his deputy, Ekweremadu and told him of what
had transpired, and after calling a meeting of the principal officers, where the
idea was easily bought by all, he asked that the House leadership be kept up to
date about the thinking of the Senate.

At this point, Mark brought in a small group of professionals to brainstorm on

how the doctrine should be applied within the fine details of the law. It was at the
meeting that someone suggested that since there was a BBC interview credited
to Yar’Adua (though many were skeptical that it was actually him who had
spoken), that would suffice in making a strong case in lieu of a letter to the
National Assembly. With that plan in place, Mark then had informal sessions
with many members of the Senate, and within 24 hours, he had the support of
most senators. By then, the House had also decided to take a similar position on
the issue.

The nation therefore waited in anxiety as the Senate and the House of
Representatives held separate closed sessions on Tuesday, February 9, 2010. At
the end, both chambers of the legislature resolved that the VP should henceforth
discharge the functions of the office of the president, commander in chief of the
armed forces of the federation, as acting president. They also resolved that he
would “cease to discharge the functions of the Office of the President when the
President, Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces of the Federation,
transmits to the President of the Senate and the Speaker of the House of
Representatives in writing that he has returned from his medical vacation.” That
resolution brought a fitting conclusion to the series of meetings between the
presidency, the Governors’ Forum, and the National Assembly’s leadership. But
it wasn’t without some dramatic prelude, especially among legislators. In the
upper chamber, Senator Folarin drew the attention of his colleagues to what he
called a political logjam and the need to find a solution: the time had come for
the Senate to invoke Section 145 of the 1999 Constitution, he said. Simply put,
his motion essentially noted that the president left Nigeria for medical attention
in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia on November 23, 2009, without transmitting a
letter to the National Assembly as stipulated in the constitution.

He had hardly rounded off when a counter motion was moved by Senator Garba
Lado (PDP, Katsina), who raised a constitutional point of order to oppose the
action the Senate seemed set to adopt. After reading Section 145 of the 1999
Constitution, he argued that the Senate lacked the powers to make Dr. Goodluck
Jonathan the acting president. He was swiftly silenced by Mark, who was
apparently in no mood for any further subterfuge on the issue. An uneasy calm
suddenly enveloped the chamber as all eyes were directed at the Senate
president. Without much ceremony, he put forth the question to which members
unanimously acquiesced. Mark then proceeded to read a prepared speech on
what he called the ‘Doctrine of Necessity’, which the National Assembly was
applying to stabilize the polity following the president’s prolonged absence from
the country.

Mark stated that the Senate’s decision to intervene was guided by patriotism,
wisdom and national interest, adding that in their bid for an amicable solution,
the Senate had to ascertain the health status of the president by inviting the
secretary to the government of the federation (SGF), Alhaji Yayale Ahmed, to
brief it. He declared that “the Doctrine of Necessity requires that we do what is
necessary when faced with a situation that was not contemplated by the
constitution, and that is precisely what we have done today. In doing so, we have
as well maintained the sanctity of our constitution as the ultimate law of the
land.”

Mark said that from an ordinary reading of Section 145 of the constitution, the
Senate had come to the conclusion that the president “through his declaration,
transmitted worldwide on the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC), has
furnished this parliament with irrefutable proof that he is on medical vacation in
the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, and has therefore complied with the provisions of
Section 145 of the 1999 Constitution.” Perhaps to prove that the intervention
was not done against Yar’Adua, Mark concluded,

“For the avoidance of doubt, let me re-emphasize the import of prayer number
two (2) of our resolution: The president will automatically resume office as the
president and commander in chief once he is well enough and returns to the
country and informs us accordingly, pursuant to Section 145.”

The resolution had an interesting subtext: Since the compromise position had
been reached after several informal discussions and meetings, there was no real
debate on the issue before it was passed by the Senate. Taking a cue from the
Senate action, the House of Representatives passed a similar motion, thus ending
a 78-day wait on the ailing Yar’Adua to transmit a letter that would enable
Jonathan to become the acting president.
Through that ingenuous action, the National Assembly was able to defuse, albeit
temporarily, a potentially tricky situation. With that also, the drama was
inevitably moving to another stage the next day—the Federal Executive Council.

The weekly FEC session usually commences by 10:00 a.m. While Yar’Adua was
never punctual, the reverse was the case whenever Jonathan presided: The
session always began right on time. But February 10 was an unusual day; it was
the day after the National Assembly resolution that made him acting president
was passed. Jonathan kept members waiting for almost one hour with all eyes
fixed on the vacant seat of the president. At exactly 10:58 a.m., it was announced
that the acting president was coming in. As all members stood up, the protocol
official who walked ahead of Jonathan put all his papers on the table of the VP.
He stood behind the chair and pulled it backwards, apparently expecting his boss
to take what had been his seat up till that day. Jonathan, however, ignored his
protocol aide and walked straight to the president’s chair and sat down. After
calling for the opening prayers, he was reminded that the national anthem had
not been taken, eliciting laughter in an otherwise tense atmosphere.

With the national anthem taken and the pledge recited, the press was excused as
the session began. Given the pin-drop silence occasioned by the fact that he had
taken the president’s seat, Jonathan said he wanted to make some opening
remarks, which he prefaced by saying there would be a full discussion on the
issue after all the items had been taken. He said it was with a very deep sense of
responsibility that he accepted the challenge of becoming the acting president,
given the unfortunate manner in which the absence of the president from the
country was being handled. He told the ministers that it was certain that they had
all been following events in the country, and that anyone who would argue that
the nation was not already moving towards the edge of the precipice was living
in denial. It was based on this realization, he explained, that the National
Assembly had to apply the Doctrine of Necessity, which vested in him the
powers of an acting president.

While expressing his sympathy for Yar’Adua, whose failure to transmit a letter
to the National Assembly had caused a division within the cabinet, Jonathan
added that some people around the president were not helping matters. He
particularly took a swipe at some court judgements, which he said seemed to
have been contrived to further complicate the political situation in the country.
Jonathan informed ministers that several eminent lawyers, most of them senior
advocates of Nigeria, whose opinion he sought on the logjam, had told him that
Justice Abutu’s judgement was not a solution to the problem at hand.

Warning that the crisis was not over, Jonathan said further that the considered
opinion of most of these respected lawyers was that even the National Assembly
resolution, on whose strength he had become acting president, was alien to the
constitution and might collapse when subjected to strict legal scrutiny. “Well,
that is what we have now and (it) will suffice until the courts decide otherwise,”
he said, adding that public officials should at all times be guided by public good
regardless of their personal inclinations.

The more Jonathan spoke, the more visible the discomfiture of the AGF (behind
whom I always sat in the FEC) became. Several times he raised his hand to be
recognized but got no acknowledgement in any of those instances. After
concluding his opening remark with the AGF’s hand still raised, Jonathan turned
his attention to him and said, “AGF, I believe there will be time for you to say
whatever you want to say when we come to debate the issue after we have taken
all the memos.”

Apparently because members were more interested in the debate that was to
follow, virtually all the memos were approved without much waste of time.
When the discussion on the state of the nation, however, began, it turned out to
be no more than an opportunity for members to pledge their loyalty to Jonathan
as acting president. Not only did members preface their contributions with “Your
Excellency, Mr. Acting President and Commander in Chief of the armed forces
of the Federal Republic of Nigeria,” almost every contributor praised his
uncommon ‘maturity’ and ‘loyalty’. One speaker noted how it was quite evident
that the hand of God was always on Jonathan and that his first name (Goodluck)
merely typified the scenario playing out in the country.

At the end, the FEC’s conclusion on the debate about the state of the nation was
that two ministers, a Muslim and a Christian, should offer special prayers for the
acting president.
It was even a tough choice deciding who those two should be, as it tended to
take on some political coloration. One minister, a Christian from the South-
South, argued that he could pray better than the person earlier nominated. He
was overruled, thus ending the session. That was, however, just the beginning of
the drama.

As the FEC was about to rise, with members picking up their files, Jonathan said
that he had some announcements to make. He had decided on a minor cabinet
reshuffle, he told them. Mr. Michael Aondoakaa (SAN), the attorney general of
the federation and minister of justice, had been redeployed to the Ministry of
Special Duties, he announced, while Chief Adetokunbo Kayode (SAN), then the
minister of labour and productivity, would become the AGF. By the new
arrangement, Ambassador Ibrahim Kazaure, who was then minister of special
duties, bagged the Ministry of Labour and Productivity portfolio.

It is by no means a trite cliché: the silence could have been sliced with a knife as
it dawned on members that an era might just be ending while another one was
about to begin. All eyes were on Aondoakaa, who had a wry smile on his face
but didn’t, in my reckoning, appear really surprised.

Indications that Aondoakaa was in trouble had emerged before the

commencement of the FEC meeting when he was invited to the Presidential
Villa very early that morning. In the story he narrated to me, he said that when
he arrived at Jonathan’s office, he could immediately sense danger with the
presence of several policemen. The moment he was ushered in, the question
Jonathan posed to Aondoakaa was, “What is your opinion about the National
Assembly resolution which makes me the acting president?” Even though taken
aback by the question, Aondoakaa said he had been wise enough to reply that
what the National Assembly had done was the only realistic solution under the
circumstances and that it would help resolve the logjam. He said Jonathan had
appeared surprised but nonetheless pleased by his response before he then
remarked, “But I heard you said it is illegal, was that not what you told AIT last
night?” At that point, Aondoakaa said he’d clarified what he’d said in the AIT
interview, and Jonathan had felt satisfied with his response. The issue resolved,
the acting president now told him that he wanted to make a slight reshuffle of the
cabinet and might be moving him to another ministry. To this, Aondoakaa said
he had quipped, “You want to move me to FCT?”
Aondoakaa said that before he’d left Jonathan, he had pleaded with him to stay
action on his redeployment so that he could conclude some issues he was sorting
out at the justice ministry, a request to which he said the acting president had
agreed. But the music had changed shortly after.

While still within the FEC, Aondoakaa got a text message from his personal
assistant that about 10 plain clothes security operatives had forcibly gained entry
into his office and other offices, presumably in search of documents.

With that alert, the AGF went out to make a call to the inspector general of
police, Mr.

Ogbonnaya Onovo, to ascertain what was going on and why his office had been
invaded.

The IG gave Aondoakaa a somewhat ridiculous explanation. The policemen

were there to protect him from Niger Delta militants, he told the AGF.
Aondoakaa could, however, deduce from Onovo’s response that he was carrying
out superior orders, which could only have come directly from the acting
president.

When he returned to the chambers, Aondoakaa walked to Jonathan’s seat and

stooped to whisper to him about what was happening at his office. While
feigning ignorance on the matter, Jonathan nonetheless promised to intervene
during lunch break.

The acting president did intervene: the policemen were immediately withdrawn
from Aondoakaa’s office. But the message had been passed. At that point,
Aondoakaa knew it was almost a fait accompli, so during the break, he met again
with the acting president, and this time said he was ready to be redeployed to any
ministry but that he would take a 30-day vacation. He got a deal.

Despite the humbling treatment, Aondoakaa, from what I later gathered, was
very lucky because the initial decision was for him to be arrested, because he
was seen as the author of the political crisis, given his failure to advise the
president on the correct course of action to take. His immediate ouster arose
from fears that he might have been making efforts to secure by proxy a court
injunction that would restrain Jonathan from assuming the position of acting
president.
The plea, the tale goes, would be that the National Assembly resolution was
unconstitutional. Jonathan was well aware that Justice Abutu’s controversial
ruling had especially stated that the Doctrine of Necessity, which the National
Assembly had invoked, would not apply in resolving the logjam. Implicitly, if
someone had gone to court, the National Assembly’s resolution could easily
have been nullified.

Aondoakaa had drawn suspicion to himself at that particular period when, a few
hours after the National Assembly passed the resolution making Jonathan the
acting president, he had appeared on a Cable News Network (CNN) programme
where he had insisted there was no crisis in the country, despite the fact that
Yar’Adua had spent 78 days in a Saudi Arabian hospital. He had added that the
government was running smoothly, a claim that was countered by Nobel
laureate, Prof. Wole Soyinka, who was also featured on the same programme.
Although the interview had been recorded days earlier, it did not help
Aondoakaa’s cause, as Jonathan and his aides believed he had to be removed
immediately before he could cause further political damage. It was also seen as a
popular move that would resonate positively, especially with the media and civil
society.

With Aondoakaa off the legal scene, things could not possibly remain the same.
He had been the last buffer, the man who had justified the absence of the
president by saying he could rule even from the hospital in Saudi Arabia. His
removal also sent clear signals to the handlers of the president in Saudi Arabia
that Jonathan was tightening the political noose. But what really jolted them was
the tone of the debate at the FEC session a week later on February 17.

In what was evidently an orchestrated move, foreign affairs minister, Chief Ojo
Maduekwe, had set the ball rolling when he said the time had come for the FEC
to take a firm stand on the critical issue of the absence of the president from the
country. He said whenever he attended a diplomatic event and was asked
whether he had spoken with the president since he left the country, he always felt
embarrassed to say he had not. He said that at the very minimum, there was the
need for the FEC to send a delegation to Saudi Arabia to see the president,
noting that his absence from the country had become a source of concern to the
international community. He concluded that while there was public clamour for
the FEC to invoke Section 144 of the Constitution (which he said was indeed
within their purview), he was of the opinion that the FEC should not begin with
such a drastic decision. The rational point was for the FEC to be seen as
responsible, by making efforts to see the president, he concluded.

The next speaker opposed this idea on the ground that any attempt to send a
delegation to Saudi Arabia would be no more than a futile pursuit. He said all the
delegations—either from the National Assembly or from the Governors Forum
—that had gone to Saudi Arabia earlier were never allowed to see the president.
He went on to outline those failed attempts. Indeed, it was common knowledge
that in the preceding week, five members of the House of Representatives who
had gone to Saudi Arabia had returned to Abuja without seeing the president.
The team saw only the First Lady. Also, the delegation of governors that had
gone to Saudi Arabia at about the same time had come back having failed to
meet with Yar’Adua. Similarly, a top-level PDP delegation led by its chairman,
Vincent Ogbulafor, and which comprised Dr. Haliru Bello Mohammed, deputy
national chairman, and Alhaji Kawu Baraje, deputy national secretary,
completed the list of failed trips to Saudi Arabia.

Although the FEC was disinclined to visit the president, due largely to the
experiences of all the delegations that had gone to Saudi Arabia without seeing
him, the unspoken consensus at that point, nonetheless, seemed to be against
invoking Section 144 without making efforts to ascertain the true status of the
president’s health. In the course of the debate, Jonathan interjected to say that he
had himself made efforts to speak with the president several times but never
succeeded, and whenever he mooted the idea of sending a delegation, it was
always opposed.

The next minister, a lawyer, said that they had all become objects of ridicule and
time had come for them to be sensitive to the public mood on the issue.
Producing a prepared paper, he quoted several legal authorities as well as the
constitution, on the import of Section 144 and the need for the FEC to act in
defence of public interest.

But there were also voices of opposition. A supporter of the president spoke
passionately and with much emotion on the indiscretion of invoking Section 144,
adding that it would be a recipe for chaos. He advised that in the event of a
constitutional crisis, the chief justice of the federation should be enlisted in the
process of finding a solution, but cautioned that declaring the president
incapacitated and removing him on the grounds of ill health was a callous and
dangerous option to contemplate.
Another suggested that rather than send a delegation to Saudi Arabia, the
Nigerian ambassador in Saudi Arabia should be invited to brief the council on
the status of the president’s health. At this point, the minister who had spoken
earlier on the danger of invoking Section 144 said he had a point of information
for the council. When given the floor, he spoke of how the Nigerian ambassador
to Saudi Arabia had called him the previous night to inform him that the
president had ascended five floors at the hospital unaided! While some ministers
laughed at this information, which was hard to believe, it was corroborated by
two other ministers, who said they also had it on good authority that the
president had begun to exercise.

This drew a sharp interjection from Maduekwe: “That is the kind of thing we are
talking about. I speak with the same ambassador all the time, he is supposed to
be reporting to me, yet he didn’t give me that sort of crucial information.” But
Jonathan would not allow this information—however ludicrous it sounded—to
pass as he made what was evidently a sarcastic remark: “I am happy with that
information because it perhaps helps us to resolve this matter. If the president is
already climbing

[the] staircase at the hospital, maybe it is better if we just begin the process of
invoking Section 144. By the time the doctors meet the president, and since he is
now getting strong from what we now hear, we can then report back to Nigerians
that there is no basis for declaring him incapacitated and all these media
agitations would stop. I honestly think we would save ourselves all this
embarrassment if we can confirm what the minister said and just proceed with
invoking Section 144.”

Nobody followed up on this proposition, but after all the members had had their
say, the conclusion was that it was necessary to send a delegation to Saudi
Arabia. It was then decided that a panel of six should visit the president and
report back to the FEC by the next session on February 24. The team comprised
health minister, Prof. Babatunde Osotimehin ; foreign affairs minister, Ojo
Maduekwe; agriculture minister, Dr. Abba Ruma; attorney general, Tokunbo
Kayode; petroleum minister, Odein Ajumogobia and the SGF, Ahmed Yayale.

From the tone of discussion, it was very clear the FEC had been divided along
sectional lines, with most northern members opposed to invoking Section 144,
while those vociferously in support were ministers from the South-South. As a
round-up, Jonathan lamented the emotional nature the debate had taken and the
way some ministers’

reactions seemed to give the impression that they loved the president more than
others.

While expressing his opposition to the idea of invoking Section 144, he said the
president’s failure to transmit a letter to the National Assembly had made things
rather difficult for everyone. He added, instructively, that he knew Yar’Adua as a
man who believed in the rule of law. In a tone laden with emotion, Jonathan said
it was unfortunate that some people could imagine that he would betray the
president if he transmitted the necessary letter to the National Assembly. He
recounted his experience as Deputy Governor in Bayelsa State and explained
that he considers loyalty to be a significant virtue. But with the delegation
convened, it was not too difficult to see that the move towards invoking Section
144 had begun. That message echoed loudly in Saudi Arabia.

Barely one hour after the end of the FEC meeting, I got a call from Nigeria’s
ambassador to Saudi Arabia, Alhaji Garba Mohammed Aminchi, who said I
should expect a copy of the president’s medical report, which was being sent to
the acting president through the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. The ambassador
also wanted my e-mail address. This was the first time the man would speak
with me directly, and, besides, that a medical report would be sent was also a
new development, which spoke of untold desperation in Saudi Arabia.

The irony was overwhelming. For weeks I had pleaded that the only way the
president could earn the sympathy of Nigerians was if he came out plain about
the state of his health, and that we could not for long keep the nation in the dark
on the issue. I had also pleaded that direct communication be opened between
the president and Jonathan. Of course, I had made all these interventions without
knowing the true state of the president’s health. Now that the situation was
getting out of hand, they had suddenly realized the need to put the acting
president into confidence on the state of the president’s health.

As promised, I did get an e-mail from the ambassador, who, curiously, addressed
me as

‘Chief Olusegun Adeniyi’. I realized I had suddenly become important in the

calculation of the people in Saudi Arabia. My initial enthusiasm about the report
soon dissolved into anti-climax. I read the medical report, and I could not see
any reason to cheer because there was no clear indication as to when the
president would be discharged from the hospital.

Curiously, like the earlier Aondoakaa letter, the ambassador also wanted me to
make the report a media affair. Knowing this would be counter-productive, I kept
the report to myself. It turned out to be a wise decision, because I was told only a
few hours later that on receiving the report, Jonathan simply dismissed it with
these words, “If after several weeks in the hospital, what they are telling me is
that they don’t know when he will be discharged, then the situation must be very
serious.” Although I was not aware of Jonathan’s disposition to the report at the
time, I nonetheless sent the ambassador a reply on my thoughts about it:

Your Excellency, I received a copy of the letter sent to the acting president, and
having carefully reviewed the contents and the political situation here, I believe
it is better we wait to see what he [Jonathan] would do with it first.

Considering that there is no new positive information in the letter that would be
useful for the public, it is only relevant for its political purpose (direct
communication between the president and acting president), and any attempt to
leak it to the public from my end would be very unhelpful. From a professional
point of view, it would also be counter-productive. Because what the media
would likely feast upon in the letter are ‘episodes of chest infections’ and
‘isolation and intensive therapy’, which would then be magnified as new
ailments.

The idea behind the letter is good, and perhaps if this sort of thing had been done
earlier, we probably would not be in the situation we are in today where the
government is more or less divided, with some ministers now moving to invoke
section 144 of the constitution with all its dire implications. I will advise Your
Excellency to re-establish links with the Foreign Affairs Minister, especially
considering what happened in [the] FEC yesterday, when the impression was
created that you report more to the Ministers of FCT/Agriculture about the
health improvement of the president while leaving the Foreign Minister in the
dark. This doesn’t help anybody, especially at this most crucial period.


The next day, it became evident that the idea of the medical report was to stop
the FEC delegation from going to Saudi Arabia. But it did not help. When it
became clear that the delegation was bent on making the trip, the ambassador
sent a telegram to Maduekwe with a long tale of how it was difficult to obtain
flight clearance for official aircraft that would convey the delegation, because
such normally took a long time. He also said that they needed to process a lot of
documents, which would be difficult since the host authorities do not entertain
any request submitted after 12 noon on work days, and that it would take five
days to receive a response from the Saudi Royal Court in view of other demands
on the king.

Given the scenario he had painted, Aminchi advised that it was desirable that the
delegation “meet the king or any of his ministers so designated to show our
appreciation for the hospitality and free medical care being provided to our
president now and before.

In the circumstance therefore, I wish to advise that the planned departure of the
delegation of Sunday 21/2/2010 be put on hold until a definite appointment to
see the king is made by the host authorities in order to avoid keeping the
delegation here for a long time and its attendant embarrassment.”

When Maduekwe got the ambassador’s letter, he informed other members of the
FEC

committee, and they met with the acting president, where it was concluded that
Aminchi’s intervention was a ploy to prevent them from coming to Saudi
Arabia. As a result, it was ignored. Using his own contacts, Yayale was able to
secure all the necessary approval from the Saudi authorities.

On Sunday, February 21, the ambassador sent another desperate dispatch. It was
a last ditch effort to stave off the planned visit by the delegation. The letter to
Maduekwe explained all the actions taken by the mission through the host
authorities towards securing an appointment for the federal government
delegation to deliver the special message to the Custodian of the Two Holy
Mosques, King Abdullah bin Abdul-Aziz.

These efforts, according to the ambassador, had not yielded results.

He explained further:

It is pertinent to note that on Thursday 18/2/2010, even though not a working

day here, the mission sent a Note Verbale to the host ministry of foreign affairs
intimating it of the impending visit and requested for the host minister of foreign
affairs to receive the delegation. However as more facts were made known to me
on Friday 19/2/2010, a fresh Note number 2 was sent to the host ministry of
foreign affairs requesting for an audience and the delegation to be received by
the Custodian of the Two Holy Mosques.

Similarly, yesterday evening, the particulars of the flight conveying the

delegation were received, and a request for its clearance to land in Riyadh in the
morning of tomorrow 22/2/2010 and come to Jeddah in the evening was faxed to
the host ministry of foreign affairs with the original copy delivered this morning
Sunday 21/2/2010. Unfortunately up to the time of close of work today, there
was no response from the host authorities with regard to the two request (sic) of
the mission.

I should also mention that the Council of Ministers which is chaired by the King
regularly meets every Monday. Perhaps our request for the audience will be
considered after the council meeting in which case the earliest we are going to
get a response will be late on Tuesday 23/2/2010.

While I shall continue to put pressure on my contacts both in the host MFA and
the Royal Court, Your Excellency may wish to consider my earlier suggestion
that the departure of the delegation scheduled for midnight today be deferred
until later when we have confirmed appointment for the delegation to meet with
the king. In this regard, therefore, it is the considered view of the Mission that
while these efforts are ongoing, the delegation should defer its date of visit until
all necessary arrangements are concluded very soon, including airport clearance
and befitting protocol reception in both Riyadh and Jeddah. This will put on hold
the impending embarrassment this is likely to cause.

It was another futile bid to dissuade the delegation. By the time this letter came,
the delegation had firmed up all the arrangements to travel to Saudi Arabia. It
was therefore a shock for the ambassador when he was told by the Saudi
authorities that the Nigerian delegation was on their way and had been cleared
by the monarch to have audience with the foreign minister and later to see the
president.

On arrival in Saudi Arabia, the delegation was taken to the royal palace in
Riyadh with an appointment to see the foreign minister that day by 7:00 p.m.,
Saudi time. As they were about to enter the foreign minister’s office, the
ambassador told the delegation rather excitedly, “Sirs, I just got a text message
on my phone now that the president has been discharged from the hospital and is
already on his way back to Nigeria.” It was in a dazed state that Yayale and the
five ministers were ushered into the presence of their host, the foreign minister.
When the ambassador relayed the same news to the Saudi foreign minister, he
didn’t appear pleased as he said, “We are not aware of this development.”

The SGF, according to what he told me, immediately called Jonathan to intimate
him of the development. He also called the emir of Katsina, the sultan of Sokoto
and the chief of defence staff to alert them as to what was going on. The only
person he wasn’t able to reach was the chief of army staff. Yayale, whose
sources had given him details of the president’s true health status as at the time
he was ‘discharged’ from hospital, knew that the endgame in the unfortunate
political drama may have just begun.

14
Like a Thief in the Night

The first indication I got that the president might actually be on his way back to
the country came via an SMS after my phone beeped at 6:00 p.m. on Tuesday,
November 23, 2009. It was from Omoyele Sowore of saharareporters. He had
information that the president had left the hospital and was in fact at the Saudi
airport on his way back to Nigeria, he wrote.

Although there had been hints from my previous discussions with the CSO and
ADC of their possible return within the week, I had been told similar tales on
several occasions, to the extent that I had become weary and no longer
considered it serious. But I thought it wise to check. Naturally, my first move
was to dial the Saudi line of the ADC. It had been switched off. Then I tried his
Nigerian mobile numbers (which were roamed), and they were also inaccessible.
Next, I tried the CSO also on all his mobile lines but got the same results.

Sensing that the story might be true after all, I tried the Saudi numbers of the
security details attached to the president, and when I could not reach any of
them, I concluded that surely the president was indeed on his way back to
Nigeria this time. Given the political situation in Nigeria at the time, the illness
of the president, and his continued stay in Saudi Arabia had caught the attention
of the cable networks, most of which had detailed their correspondents in Saudi
Arabia to monitor the situation. It was therefore no surprise that the moment the
president left the hospital, they immediately alerted their correspondents in
Nigeria.

At the presidential villa, it was also not difficult for State House correspondents
to guess that the president was on his way home, especially when troops from
the Brigade of Guards began moving towards the airport. Implicitly, all the plans
contrived in Saudi Arabia by the handlers of the president to make the
movement a secret affair had become futile. Nothing could be more ironic. By
the time the chartered air ambulance and the presidential jet arrived at the Abuja
international airport a few minutes apart at about 1:45

a.m., the vicinity was swarming with several pressmen, and CNN, with a camera
hidden in the surrounding bush, was able to capture the arrival. Like most
Nigerians, I also watched the sad episode live on CNN as one of the aircraft was
made to stop in the middle of the tarmac while an ambulance was driven to the
plane to evacuate the president. Even though the evacuation was so expertly
done as to obscure any glimpse of it from the camera, I sensed trouble because
what was happening could only mean one thing: the president was brought back
home still sick. I knew this would only complicate the political situation, and I
feared that my job would even be far more difficult than it already was.

I waited for about an hour after the convoy’s arrival at the villa before driving in
around 3:30 a.m., whereupon I went straight to the residence of the ADC, who
had just come back from the president’s residence. The stress was quite evident
on his face, but since he had been gone for such a long period, our discussion
dwelt initially on mundane issues before progressing, at my prodding, to the
rather touchy terrain of the president’s condition.

The ADC and I are very good friends and were always open towards one
another, but on this night he was very edgy and evasive, even defensive. I
couldn’t get much off him, so I decided to see the CSO, who appeared to be
more agreeable despite his apparent nervousness. In response to my question as
to whether the president was strong enough to attend the Federal Executive
Council meeting in the morning, he went into a long monologue of how the
president had recovered and had become strong, but had been exhausted by the
stress of the trip and would need a few more days to rest. The conclusion was
that not only would he fail to attend the FEC meeting, he would still need

“a few more days to recuperate” before he could begin to see visitors.

“Of course, the president [will] see him later today,” was the CSO’s reply to my
question about the possibility of the president seeing Jonathan during the day.

Despite his assurance, I couldn’t find any conviction in his response. I did a
concise review of my understanding of the political situation for the CSO and
where I thought the various actors stood, noting also how Nigeria had changed in
the absence of the president and the implications of having him around in the
villa if he wasn’t fit to resume office.

“We have a crisis on our hands and it’s important for all the presidential aides to
collaborate on how we will manage the situation,” I explained, and suggested
that all the aides met at 9:00 a.m., an hour before the FEC meeting. The aim was
to enable us to make an appropriate decision with regard to the way forward.
Immediately I left the CSO, I drove straight to Games Village to meet my friend,
Waziri Adio, whom I had called earlier to expect me. I could do with some
advice because I knew I would be in a very difficult position later that morning.
By now it was about 4:30 a.m. Ever so perceptive, Waziri advised me to be calm.
He pointed out that if the president was not in a position to attend the council
meeting, then I would have to say something. We agreed that whatever will be
said had to be something that would appeal to the sentiment of Nigerians. The
only thing that would soothe nerves, we both agreed, was for the president to
thank all Nigerians, apologize for the problems caused by his ill health and
conclude by saying he would spend the remaining months of his administration
working towards reforming the electoral process, culminating in the conduct of
elections in 2011 in which he would not be a participant.
While there were many Nigerians genuinely aggrieved by the manner in which
Yar’Adua’s illness was handled, we also did not miss the fact that beneath the
bile seen in some reactions lay the politics of the 2011 elections. So we felt that
the moment we took Yar’Adua out of that equation, the pressure would ease
considerably. It had been a trip worth the trouble. I left Waziri to help with the
draft and drove back to the villa.

On my way back, I put a call through to the special adviser on national assembly,
Senator Abba Aji, who, I knew, also had a big role to play in the emerging
scenario. He went straight to the point: “Is it true the president has returned?” he
asked. I told him he had.

He raised several other questions, but I told him it wasn’t an issue we could
conveniently discuss on the phone and added that it was important we both met
immediately. “I can come to your house if you could describe the location,” I
recall telling him. He was kind enough to volunteer to come to my house.

He arrived around 5:30 a.m. This time, I went straight to the point. “So, what do
we do now?” I asked him. His response was a further probe of the president’s
health; questions about which I had no clue. Our discussion only made the
dilemma of the moment more apparent, so I told him I would insist on seeing the
president when I got back to the villa.

Abba Aji could not reconcile the fact of the president’s homecoming despite not
being fully fit to resume duty with the challenging situation already on ground.
He went on to explain all the implications to me: It had a potential to create a
political crisis in the nation and also engender serious problems that may be very
difficult to manage at the National Assembly. He advised that if the president
was not strong enough to resume office, it would be necessary for him to now
write the National Assembly a formal letter requesting a vacation. According to
Abba Aji, the letter should contain an apology from the president to the
lawmakers over his inability to write earlier. “He could attribute that to the fact
that he left the nation in a hurry,” he explained. I thought it was well-meaning
advice, but was not sure it would be taken with enthusiasm.

Despite having scheduled our presidential aides meeting for 9:00 a.m., we didn’t
really gather in the CSO’s office until about 10:00 a.m., at which time there was
already tension in the air, as the ministers had arrived for the weekly Federal
Executive Council session, which normally begins by 10:00 a.m. As they milled
around, each called me to ask a question that was understandably similar: “How
is oga?” All eyes were on me. It was a disconcerting moment.

Only six of us eventually made the meeting at the CSO’s office, since Hamza
and the CPP were with the president. The SCOP had not returned to the villa,
and somehow, the PLO was also not around. Those gathered that morning to
take a crucial decision on the return of the president were therefore me, David
Edevbie, Matt Aikhionbare, Inuwa Baba, the ADC and the CSO.

I told them that I was under increasing pressure from journalists who wanted to
confirm the arrival of the president in addition to his state of health. Whereas it
was my responsibility to announce the arrival of the president, I told the
gathering, there is equally a sense of propriety that makes my inclusion of a
caveat imperative: From a professional standpoint, I couldn’t possibly do that
without seeing the president!

This generated the first crisis in our meeting. The CSO tried to cajole me with
the excuse that the president was asleep and that doctors had advised that he
should rise by himself and never be roused from his sleep. There was hardly any
headway for fifteen minutes as we argued on this point. That was the position we
were in when Tanimu, who was looking for Edevbie, came in and joined us at
the meeting. But his presence was not in anyway helpful as his comments gave
the impression that I was sounding unreasonable by my insistence that I had to
see the president before I could issue a statement on his return.

I considered his remark uncharitable, and as we argued, the CSO placated me

with these words: “Calm down, Segun, you will see the president later today. But
we need to calm the nation down first.” After many pleas from everyone,
especially Edevbie, who argued that the tension in the country was already
palpable, I informed the group I already had a draft.

Calming the nation down as we agreed meant confirming the arrival of the
president and affirming that the status quo would remain, in which case Jonathan
would continue to be in charge since it was evident Yar’Adua was still unwell.
It’s instructive to note that we—barring the ADC and the CSO—were as yet
ignorant of how bad the president’s health was. But we all agreed that Jonathan
would continue to run the affairs of the country as he was already.

The issue of whether he would continue to be called acting president came up,
and we all felt that it was absurd to have a president and acting president in the
country. With the return of the president, Jonathan automatically goes back to
being VP, we thought. There was not much debate about this at all. It was a
position we unanimously agreed on.

With the benefit of hindsight, particularly given what I later glimpsed about the
medical state in which the president was brought in and given the background
information I would later have about the tricky negotiations that had led to the
National Assembly resolution, I would have suggested addressing Jonathan as
acting president. It’s unlikely there would have been much resistance.

The fact, however, remains that I participated fully in the decision to address
Jonathan as VP, but it was by no means out of disrespect or mischief. There was
silence as I began to read, but Tanimu interjected that the statement was too long
and contained unnecessary details. About everyone agreed with him that the
statement should be quite brief. So at the end, we decided we should just
announce the arrival of the president, thank Nigerians and say that the VP would
continue to run the country’s affairs until the president was well enough. So at
the end, it was not anybody dictating to me; it was my call. I released the
following statement:

After being discharged by the team of medical experts overseeing his treatment
in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, President Umaru Musa Yar’Adua returned to
the presidential villa, Abuja, early this morning. President Yar’Adua is grateful
to the vice president, Dr. Goodluck Ebele Jonathan, for competently overseeing
the affairs of state in his absence.

The president also wishes to thank the president of the Senate, the Speaker of the
House of Representatives, the entire membership of the National Assembly, the
Governors’ Forum, the judiciary, the armed forces, and other security agencies,
former heads of state and other eminent Nigerians for their roles in maintaining
order and stability during his absence.

Mr. President wishes to reassure all Nigerians that on account of their unceasing
prayers and by the special grace of God, his health has greatly improved.
However, while Mr. President recuperates the vice president will continue to
oversee the affairs of state.


I had barely finished the draft when I got a call from the CSO’s office inviting
me to another meeting. Getting to the office, I found the head of service, Mr.
Steve Oronsaye, Inuwa and the CSO discussing another sensitive issue that
could be summarized in these words: Could the acting president sit on the
president’s chair inside the council chambers? The debate arose from an earlier
meeting between Oronsaye and Jonathan. Oronsaye said Jonathan asked him
about where he would sit if he came to the FEC meeting in view of the arrival of
the president. He had actually advised Jonathan to sit on the vice president’s
chair, but Jonathan replied that he would rather not come to the FEC meeting.
Oronsaye said his advice was based on the fact that the president was back to the
villa, although he also did not know in what state.

Inuwa and I cautioned that a crisis may ensue if the council meeting failed to
hold that day, and stressed the need for Jonathan to be persuaded to attend, in
which case he had to sit on the president’s chair. The CSO agreed with me, and
together with the ADC, he went to plead with Jonathan to attend the meeting
with the assurance that he could sit on the president’s chair.

I had by then released my statement with the understanding that Jonathan would
preside over the FEC. My thoughts were that if he did attend and sat on the
president’s seat, these would be indications he was effectively in charge. Just a
few minutes later, however, I gathered that Jonathan was no longer coming to the
FEC meeting owing to the ministerial delegation’s return from Saudi Arabia.

Shortly after, Yayale came into the council chambers to announce that ministers
should assemble in the office of the acting president. What I didn’t know at the
time—but was later told, however—was that a security detail had been assigned
to stand behind the president’s chair before 10:00 a.m. to secure it from any
‘intruder’, which in this case would be Jonathan. Also, by addressing Jonathan
as VP in my statement, I had unwittingly entered the political fray even though
at that point I didn’t understand how big a fuss it would generate.

The political drama had begun in the night when the president arrived at the
residence where the flag of commander in chief was being flown. At that time,
Akinola Aguda House, where Jonathan, as acting president, resided, also carried
the flag of commander in chief. But beyond the symbolism was the fact that the
Brigade of Guards had deployed troops to the airport with enormous weaponry
to receive the president back into the villa without as much as notifying
Jonathan.

Although the ADC had followed the normal standard operating procedure in
calling from Saudi Arabia to seek military reinforcement, the fact that Jonathan
was, at least going by the National Assembly resolution, also commander in
chief meant that troops should not have been deployed without his consent.

By the next morning, there was also the dilemma of him driving into the villa
with the insignia of commander in chief on his car. There were fears among his
close aides that he could be shot by the soldiers. At this point, Azazi had become
his adviser, and he pointed out all the seeming landmines from the military point
of view. The situation was even more compounded by a mix of ethnicity and
religion, especially given a security report that emanated from Nigeria, a copy of
which was intercepted by one of the Western embassies in Nigeria.

The report, believed to have been sent shortly before the ministerial delegation
took off from Nigeria, was to the effect that the plot against Yar’Adua was meant
to install a Christian to supplant a Muslim. Signals from the military were also
hazy, with fears that some soldiers could take out both Yar’Adua and Jonathan.
These were some of the dynamics playing out that day, but it wasn’t until very
much later that I could understand the complex web of intrigue amid which I had
found myself.

The first call I got was from Ima Niboro, who told me that Jonathan wanted to
know if he was no longer acting president. Then came a flurry of phone calls
from other aides. By then, I knew I was in trouble. Even though we had
anticipated that some people might question the rationale behind addressing
Jonathan as acting president, no one imagined it was going to be as serious as it
became. (On a personal note, what I felt was important at the time was that
Jonathan would continue to run the affairs of the country. But given that he
wanted to know what his official status was, I told Ima to issue a statement that
would contradict mine by calling Jonathan acting president.)Looking back, if I
had felt ‘acting president’ was the appropriate term to use in my statement, I
doubt that anybody would have stopped me. That is the reason I found the
insinuations that I had taken instructions from the First Lady rather ridiculous,
especially when I did not get to meet with her until four days after they had
returned from Saudi Arabia.
Instructively, there were whispers that day within the villa that Yar’Adua could
be playing the ‘Katsina trick’ on everyone. It was such a strong rumour that
many people believed, hence there was not much gravitation towards Jonathan
that day. The ‘Katsina trick’ referred to how Yar’Adua had returned to Katsina
State after six months in a German hospital. It was said that his then deputy had
given him up as dead until Yar’Adua had ‘resurrected’ in the state, causing
serious commotion. On February 23, 2010, many within the villa were expecting
a similar occurrence. Nobody knew what to believe. Some ministers were even
saying he could attend the FEC meeting that day.

Depressed and confused, I called my former boss, Nduka Obaigbena, about the
challenge I was now facing. He came to Abuja, and after I explained the scenario
to him, he sought an appointment for a meeting with Jonathan that night. The
reassuring feedback was that by the next morning, Jonathan would call a
meeting of all presidential aides, including the CSO and the ADC. At the
meeting, he would read the riot act, tell everybody he was in charge, and Ima
Niboro and I would jointly address the media, at which time I would reaffirm
loyalty to Jonathan as acting president. It was all agreed, and I felt this would
resolve the problem.

On my way to the office the next morning, I decided to see Obaigbena again, and
while we were together, Ima Niboro called and was invited over by Obaigbena.
In reviewing the political situation with regard to my statement where Jonathan
was addressed as VP, I told him that the issue of acting president was not so
serious and that I actually had an ace that exonerates me, assuming there was
any opposition from the president’s side. I told Ima that in the medical report the
president had sent from Saudi Arabia the previous week, Jonathan was addressed
as acting president. I said that was sufficient evidence to show that even
Yar’Adua recognized Jonathan as acting president.

It was a surprise to me that Ima was not even aware of the report, and when he
asked whether I could give it to him, I promised I would. Obaigbena also wanted
THISDAY to have it, but I declined. A major feature of my stay at the villa was
that I deprived THISDAY of so many stories. Not only did I not give them
exclusives, they also downplayed several stories they sourced on their own just
to protect me, because I would be the obvious suspect of a leak, even when I
might not know anything about it.

I eventually got to the office around 10:00 a.m., and at about the same time the
ADC and the CSO also came in as we waited for word from the office of the
acting president about the meeting, and nothing came. Several times, we called
his office and that of his aides, and whenever we made enquiries, we were told
the man was busy and that the meeting would hold.

When at about 4:00 p.m., he still had not called us, I decided to intervene by
granting an interview to the Nigerian Television Authority (NTA). Since the
contentious issue was the fact that I had called Jonathan VP, I felt that I could
redeem the situation simply by addressing him as acting president.

The first question was on the status of Jonathan following the return of
Yar’Adua. I ensured my response addressed the issue that agitated the minds of
critics: “The acting president and commander in chief, Dr. Goodluck Jonathan
continues to run the affairs of the country until the president (Umaru Musa
Yar’Adua) is fit to take over. The statement is very clear that the acting president
continues to run the affairs of the nation. And that remains the situation as far as
I am concerned, and as far as the president is concerned.” The next question was
in relation to the fate of Yar’Adua’s aides under the acting presidency of
Jonathan, given that he also had his corps of aides. This was my reply: “We run
one presidency, and the acting president has already called for a meeting, and I
believe the meeting will hold tomorrow, to brief us on how things will go and
how he will run the presidency. Everybody is included, especially those who just
returned from Saudi Arabia. So, it’s just one presidency, and we are all under Dr.
Jonathan now as the acting president and commander in chief until the president
returns to office fully.” After I had successfully navigated this issue, the reporter
sought clarification about the statement that the acting president wanted to meet
with Turai Yar’Adua, to which I remarked: “If you ask anybody who was at the
meeting, he or she will tell you that what you have there in the press is not what
actually happened. I was not actually there. I had some work that kept me in the
office, and before I got there, the meeting was over. What I gleaned, however,
was that the acting president said the president had arrived but that he has yet to
see him. He suggested that he would see the First Lady, which was just a matter
of courtesy.

“So, when you hear that Turai is in charge, Turai takes over, all those things are
not correct. It’s very unfair to the First Lady at a time [when] she is nursing her
husband. So, there is no such thing, and you don’t expect the acting president,
Dr. Jonathan, to report to the First Lady. It is abnormal, and it won’t happen.
What the acting president actually said was that he was going to see the First
Lady and ask about the husband, that is the president, and probably see him. To
me, it is a normal situation, which, I believe, is the natural thing to do.”

The last question dwelt on the relationship between the president and the acting
president, to which I replied, “Good, very cordial relation. I know for a fact that
when the president was in Saudi Arabia, the medical report of the president was
sent to the acting president on the instruction of the president. The last one was
last Friday. Dr. Salisu, the CPP, sent to the acting president through the
ambassador a forwarding letter. I was copied. I have a copy of the medical report
on the president’s health. And if you read the letter sent by the president, he
addressed Dr. Jonathan as the acting president. I have a copy of the letter.

“They have always had a cordial relationship. And I also know for a fact that
several times in the council, when the president was presiding, he always said it
that any time he was unavailable, no memo should wait for him, that they
(ministers) should go to the acting president, who was then the vice president.
And also, when there was friction between ministers and ministers of state, he
often cited the kind of cordial relationship he had with Dr. Goodluck Jonathan
then as his vice president. So, as far as I am concerned, they had a very cordial
relationship.”

My interview was lavishly aired on all the television channels and print media
the next day, and I felt that the subtle rebuttal would at least attract some
sympathy and would help defuse tension. It turned out that I was wrong, as it
created another problem for me.

By the afternoon of Saturday, four days after the president’s return, I got a call
from Ima Niboro that the acting president wanted to see me.

I drove to Akinola Aguda House and met him and Ima at the lunch table. There
was no pretension; he was not in a friendly mood. He said he had received
several phone calls concerning the interview I had granted the media, where I
claimed that the president had been sending him medical reports from Saudi
Arabia. He told me I was aware of the only one he had received, which was in
itself very indicting. My statement was misleading and was causing him political
problems, he explained and added, “Please Segun, you know I like you a lot, so I
don’t want to be forced to disclaim your statement, but I may be forced to.”

I quickly interrupted that I would clarify the statement immediately. It was very
evident to me at that point that I had unwittingly been caught in the web of a
complex power game in which I got further entangled the more I tried to
extricate myself. My allusion to the medical report in the interview was seen as a
deliberate ploy to make Jonathan look bad. I explained the circumstances under
which I had talked about the medical report and told him Ima was a witness. He
knew that my intention was to validate the point that even Yar’Adua had
acknowledged that Jonathan was acting president. That issue of the medical
report, it later emerged, was the weapon that would be used against me in the
media by those who claimed to be supporting Jonathan.

An instance was a conference with editors in Lagos called by a prominent person

in government who railed against my “negative role for the cabal,” claiming that
I “had become a tool in the hands of Turai” and that I had conceived the issue of
the medical report in order to embarrass Jonathan. I learnt a few days later that
the issue of the medical report was being used by opponents of Jonathan,
especially from the north, who argued that he never mentioned the fact that he
ever received any such report from Saudi Arabia.

So, in retrospect, I understand the basis of his anger towards me, even though I
made my statement without any malicious intent. First, I felt, like Jonathan, that
the medical report was not in any way helpful to Yar’Adua, and hence preferred
that it be kept out of public view. Indeed, that was what I told the Nigerian
ambassador who had sent it from Saudi Arabia. In not revealing the medical
record, Jonathan was doing the president a world of good. Secondly, the medical
report came only a week before the president’s arrival. Also, in alluding to it in
my interview, I never meant it as an indictment of Jonathan, but rather to
reinforce his position as acting president. The decision to bring up the issue of
the medical report was not in any way meant to undermine Jonathan’s political
fortune, it was to enhance it, but his handlers saw it differently, and I unwittingly
became a pawn in what had become a complex power game.

While the politicians were sucked in the unfolding intrigues and holding several
meetings in Abuja, the main concern and challenge for me then was for the
acting president to meet with the president. That was what I kept pushing for.
Four days after the president arrived, I finally came across the First Lady on the
evening of Saturday, November 26.

She looked very pale and emaciated, and I told her so. I asked about the
president, and we had a brief chat before I left. We were never really close, and it
was almost always uncomfortable whenever we met. Maybe it was my fault.

From the outset, I had decided that it was best for me to simply stick to my
official assignment and avoid her, but I had told her husband that I would be
willing to offer help any time she needed me. Since she never sought my
assistance, I also did not bother to court her, which was good for me. But at this
point when nobody could see the president, I knew the decision was hers to
make, so I offered my advice that it was in the interest of everyone for the
president to meet with the acting president. She agreed with me, but she was
non-committal as to when such a meeting would take place.

I felt awkward each day people asked whether I had seen the president.
Convinced it was better to be frank over such a matter, my reply was always in
the negative. Yet telling the truth also made me look ridiculous, if not stupid.
How could I claim to be spokesman for someone I had not seen, a president on
whose behalf I had issued a statement to the world? I had by now become the
object of public derision. I had to endure all kinds of snide remarks and could
neither sleep at night nor eat. It was an overwhelming situation.

Ten days after the arrival from Saudi Arabia, I had still not seen Yar’Adua. That
was the day I decided I could no longer accept the situation. Following a series
of failed promises from the CSO and the ADC, I knew it was not a decision they
could make, so I went to the home of a confidant of the First Lady with a simple
demand. “If your people will kill me today, I am prepared to die, but if I do not
see Yar’Adua today, I am going to resign,” I told her.

Screaming, I told the friend of the First Lady that there was nothing anybody
could hide from me about Yar’Adua, as I had seen the worst of him. Even if he
was in a coma or on life support, I needed to see him that day, otherwise they
would hear it from the airwaves that I had resigned, I said.

Apparently seeing a side of me that she had not seen before, the First Lady’s
confidant put a call to the CSO and the ADC and invited them to her house,
saying she had a big crisis on her hands. Within ten minutes, the ADC and the
CSO had arrived and the trio did all they could to calm me, but I insisted that if I
didn’t see the president, there was no way I could remain his spokesman beyond
that day. I knew I was making a very difficult request, having been told by one
of the security men who went with them to Saudi Arabia on the day they
returned that the last time he saw the president was the day they were leaving
Nigeria. This meant that throughout their sojourn in Saudi Arabia he never saw
the president whose life he was supposed to be protecting. And given the way
the return was organized, he also had not seen the president even when they
travelled and returned together! But my mind was made up. It was from Hamza
that I learnt that my request had been granted about two hours after I arrived
home. He called to say that I should be on the alert, that anytime the president
was awake, he would call so I could come to see him.

That call gave me a surge of relief because while I had resolved to resign, I also
realized it would further worsen the political situation, given the ethnic slant that
could be given to my action.

Besides, I genuinely liked Yar’Adua and enjoyed working with him. So,
naturally, I empathized with him and would not want to be seen as having
betrayed him. Yet, I considered my position untenable if I could not see him.
Rather surprisingly, I would later learn that when the First Lady was told of my
request, her response was, “Let him come and see baba. I have been told that
people are now abusing the poor boy.” Unfortunately, it was around 2:00 a.m.
when Hamza called that first day. I was asleep and so couldn’t make it. But three
days later, I went with the ADC to the president’s living room. I was made to
take off my shoes and, ordinarily, should have been disinfected in addition to a
few other health protocols at that time.

I met the president seated with the doctor and Hamza beside him, holding his
hands. He was barely recognizable. I was introduced but given the vacant look
on his face, I was not so certain he recognized me. He, however, managed to nod
his head in acknowledgment of my presence. Yet, even that had taken
considerable effort and time. I mumbled a few words of greeting and left without
even being excused. I had seen enough to make me cry later. Although I felt a
sense of relief that I had seen him, I felt really sad about the condition he was in.
While I had hopes that he would recover, I had no illusions that the person I had
seen that day would ever be strong enough to resume as president within the
time left for his mandate to elapse. That explains why I was quite skeptical when
stories suggesting he had fully recovered began to surface. There were tales in
the media about the president being sighted walking in the garden or going to the
library. I knew they were lies and told every editor or reporter that contacted me
to ignore such tales. Some did, but some still went ahead to publish the lies they
were fed.
15
Beginning of the End

While it was easy for Yar’Adua to be kept away from all the Nigerian
delegations that made attempts to see him in Saudi Arabia, it was inconceivable
that a similar ploy could be sustained within the presidential villa without
consequences. Yet one week after he returned unexpectedly to the country, still
too frail to rule, nobody outside of his immediate family, the CSO and the ADC
could see him. Even within the family, there was growing discontent voiced
mostly by female siblings, who apparently had their own grouse against the First
Lady, whom they felt had shut them out from seeing their brother. The major
headline news, however, came when the governors and top echelons of the PDP
who came to the villa ostensibly to see the president were turned back.

All this did great harm to the president’s image and also stoked the political
crisis that his return to the country had engendered. That Jonathan had not been
allowed to see him was perplexing for me and a few others who knew the
implication of that, but with conflicting reports at that point either disputing or
affirming that the duo had met, the situation was still manageable. On March 1,
2010, however, Jonathan decided to put paid to the speculations when Ima
Niboro issued a statement to the effect that the acting president had not seen the
ailing president since he arrived the country.

In what he described as a clarification to some misleading reports in the media

“that the acting president, Dr. Goodluck Ebele Jonathan, met with President
Yar’Adua this morning,” Niboro stated for the record that “the acting president
has not seen the president since his return from Saudi Arabia last week.” The
impact of this statement was devastating, because it further alienated the
president even from those sympathetic to his plight, who found it difficult to
comprehend a situation where he could be locked away in Aso Rock without
seeing anybody, including his deputy.

The issue became, understandably, a dominant media and public discourse. But
Jonathan by then seemed to have concluded it was no longer an issue, as he
began to increasingly assert himself in the polity. On the day he stated he had yet
to see Yar’Adua, Jonathan named a presidential advisory committee, comprising
prominent names across the country, whose responsibility, he said, would be to
provide input on government policy.

Headed by Danjuma, there was no clear agenda for this body that was set up,
apparently, to send a signal that Jonathan was now fully in charge.

The popular sentiment at this point was that the return of the president from
Saudi Arabia was not only an act of political desperation, but a move capable of
derailing Nigeria’s democratic project. That soon brought the inevitable
recognition within, and a ringing endorsement by, the international community
that power had changed hands in Nigeria with Jonathan as the new man to deal
with. In extending an invitation to Jonathan to visit the White House, President
Obama voiced America’s concern at Yar’Adua’s surprise arrival in the country
when he was evidently not well enough to govern. The then British prime
minister, Mr. Gordon Brown, also wrote Jonathan to offer the support of his
government.

It was painful to see Yar’Adua, holed up inside Aso Rock, descend gradually
into an object of ridicule with all manner of media reports about how he had
been kept in a mobile intensive care unit with the First Lady controlling access
to him. There were also reports that it was his corpse that was brought to the
villa. All these, of course, were fabrications. But in the absence of any official
information about the president, all the tales, however outlandish, were believed.

It was wrong-headed not to have allowed Jonathan to see him, but I also could
hazard a guess as to the cold calculations behind the move. When the president
was brought back into the country, he could not talk. To surmount this challenge,
some speech therapists from a North African country were contracted, with
pledges from these experts that Yar’Adua would be able to speak in a matter of
days after their sessions with him. The desire of the First Lady, from my
understanding of the situation, was that by the time her husband would meet
with Jonathan, he should be able to, at least, exchange greetings and perhaps
utter a few words. She feared that exposing Yar’Adua to Jonathan in the state he
was would only lead to one conclusion: that he was permanently incapacitated!

Since relinquishing the presidency was not an option for the First Lady (the only
person who could possibly make such a decision), Jonathan’s visit, which she
actually desired, became a mere wish because of the health condition of the
president.
There were other people who also nursed the hope that whenever that meeting
took place, Yar’Adua would be able to give some ‘instructions’ to Jonathan.
They even had the sort of ‘instructions’ they wanted Yar’Adua to give, and top
on the list was that he should ask that the secretary to the government of the
federation, Alhaji Yayale Ahmed, be sacked.

The problem with this cold calculation, however, was that it was based on what
nobody had any control over: Yar’Adua’s declining health condition.

A story I heard about what had transpired in Saudi Arabia when the House of
Representatives delegation visited may also have played in the minds of the
president’s handlers. Considering the political situation back home, there had
been assurances that the House members would be allowed to visit the president
at the hospital. When he was told about the visit, he was said to have asked
rather emotionally: “To see me like this?” Yet at that point, his health had not
even deteriorated to the condition under which he was brought back to the
country.

Although at this period (a week into his arrival) I also had not seen the president
to ascertain his state of health, I could deduce that things must be pretty bad. I
came to that conclusion because despite the fact that the CPP, Dr. Salisu Banye,
and I were neighbours and our families had become quite close, I had yet to set
my eyes on him since they arrived in the country. Whenever I asked about him
from his wife, the response was always the same: he was with the president.
Whether during the day or at night, he was on call with his august patient, who
also had the full compliments of several medical experts flown in from Saudi
Arabia and Germany. The only time Banye came home was either to eat or to
freshen up, after which he would go back immediately. In fact, the first time I
would see him was the day I finally met the president. That, to me, pointed to
how serious the situation must be.

Owing to the manner in which his return to the country was handled, Yar’Adua,
who initially enjoyed the affection of most Nigerians with empathy for his health
challenges, had become a specimen of shame. This for me was most troubling.
All manner of medical experts were invited as television guests to diagnose a
‘patient’ they had never seen, with most of them concluding with magisterial
authority that if Yar’Adua was not already dead, then he could only be some
breaths away from death, because by the nature of the ailment afflicting him, he
ought to have died by December or January.


Whatever the state he was in, keeping Yar’Adua from the people, especially
when he was in the presidential villa, was doing far more harm than good to him
as a person and to the country. Ironically, even the names being touted in the
media as either “members of the cabal” or the “kitchen cabinet” were people
who had also not seen the president.

I kept pressing, pointing out the implications of shutting out everyone, including
the acting president. Every day, I was given assurances that Jonathan would meet
the president “tomorrow” or “by the weekend” or “within the next three days”; it
kept changing. From the interactions, even when they tried to put positive spins
on everything, it was evident that the condition of the president was not
improving, or was perhaps even degenerating.

On the political front, however, the president still had a remarkable support base,
especially among the governors and the top hierarchy of his party. Several
factors were responsible for this, but as long as he enjoyed this support, it was
difficult for Jonathan to move against him. To forestall this move and checkmate
the ministers, a week after the president arrived, the PDP governors met in Abuja
to take a decision on what they perceived as the danger of invoking Section 144
by the Federal Executive Council. But they also had other issues on their agenda.

At a meeting held on the eve of the March 3 FEC meeting, which would be the
first since the arrival of the yet-to-be-seen Yar’Adua, members of the PDP
Central Working Committee led by national chairman, Chief Vincent Ogbulafor,
were also in attendance.

First, they discussed the move being made by some ministers to begin a process
that would culminate in invoking Section 144 of the constitution, in which case
Yar’Adua would be deemed permanently incapacitated, to pave the way for his
removal. This was not an option the governors or the party leaders were
comfortable with, and the tone was set by a Niger Delta governor who described
Yar’Adua as a good president who unfortunately suffered a health challenge,
which, he argued, should not be criminalized.

The preponderance of opinion at the meeting was that invoking Section 144 of
the constitution to remove Yar’Adua from office, as the FEC was being goaded
to do, would create problems in the country, as it was akin to a civilian coup.
What seemed to have united the governors against Jonathan was the manner in
which he appointed the presidential advisory council without consulting them or
seeking their input. Almost all the governors said they knew nothing about the
process that had led to the choice of nominees from their states. In expressing
displeasure, one governor particularly noted that even President Obasanjo never
appointed people from the states without consulting with the governors.

Another issue that came up before the meeting, but which was not discussed,
was that Jonathan’s advisory council had a northern Christian in Danjuma as
chairman, with another Christian from the south, Prof. Ben Nwabueze, as
deputy. Rather than make an issue out of it at the meeting as some northern
governors had intended, it was agreed that someone would quietly point this out
to Jonathan.

The discussion soon moved to the issue of zoning, and Ogbulafor was asked to
brief the governors on what the position of the party was in the event that
Yar’Adua was unable to continue in office and as a result could not seek a
second term. Before the session with the governors, the NWC members of PDP
had held an elaborate meeting at the party’s Wadata House national secretariat in
Abuja with the aim of adopting a common position.

At the PDP NWC meeting were Prof. Rufai Ahmed Alkali, Hajiya Inna Ciroma,
Dr.

Musa Babayo, Dr. Sam Ortom, Chief Uche Secondus, Mr. Olusola Oke, Mr.
Tukur Mani, and the late Muyiwa Collins. At the end of their discussion, they
had all accompanied Ogbulafor to the meeting with the governors. So, it was
evident the position that he canvassed—that zoning would remain an article of
faith within the PDP for the 2011

presidential elections—was not his personal opinion. The implication—even if it

was not expressly stated—was that it foreclosed the possibility of Jonathan
emerging the PDP

presidential flag-bearer for the 2011 general elections. But that was all the
governors wanted to hear. That was also the highlight of the meeting.

The session rounded off with the unanimous decision that the party’s zoning
formula would remain for the 2011 elections. But there was no consensus about
how this should be handled, though the popular opinion was that it should not be
announced after the meeting. A few of the northern governors, however, argued
that the party chairman should immediately announce it as part of their
decisions. It was thus a reluctant Ogbulafor who had the unenviable task of
briefing the media on the outcome, which was essentially to state that the party
would retain the zoning formula, with the presidency rotating between the north
and the south. Put simply, only a northerner could fly the flag of the party as its
presidential candidate for the 2011 election. “We discussed [the] zoning formula
with the governors. The south had presidency for eight years. It is fair and just
that the north also keep it for eight years,” Ogbulafor said.

This was a very weighty decision that was hailed by many prominent politicians
from the north but condemned by those from the south, especially by people like
Chief Edwin Clark, who had long championed the cause of a Jonathan
presidency the moment Yar’Adua fell ill.

With that declaration, Ogbulafor was deemed a man that could no longer be
trusted. A few days later, he was facing a corruption charge filed by the
Independent Corrupt Practices and Other Related Offences Commission (ICPC).
The case had been filed originally in 2004 and was in relation to N104 million
campaign donations. But the prosecution of the matter had been stalled for some
inexplicable reasons. This charge of corruption began for Ogbulafor a chain of
events that ultimately led to his forced resignation as PDP chairman.
Instructively, the moment that was achieved, nothing was ever heard about the
corruption charge again!

Four days after inaugurating the Presidential Advisory Committee, Jonathan

made another strategic move to consolidate his hold on power with the removal
of the national security adviser (NSA), Major General Sarki Mukhtar (rtd.), and
the appointment of Lt.

Gen. Aliyu Mohammed Gusau as his replacement. Although the change of guard
occurred in the middle of another violent crisis in Jos that claimed several lives,
it was evident within the power calculus in the villa that Gusau was not
appointed to resolve the Jos crisis. It was a political move. Gusau had also
served in a similar capacity under President Olusegun Obasanjo from 1999 to
2006, so it was a return to very familiar terrain. But the appointment took on far
more significance for those who knew what Gusau represented within the
complex power game then unfolding in Aso Rock.

The next morning, I had an interesting discussion with the CSO, who, I knew,
had some authority with regard to decisions concerning the president. I told him
that given the unfolding scenario, it would be in the interest of the president if
the First Lady was advised that the meeting between Jonathan and her husband
had become long overdue. I told him that with the snippets of information at my
disposal concerning Gusau’s appointment as NSA, the political game was going
to change so dramatically that the outcome might not be pleasant for the
president. He gave some vague commitments that Jonathan would see the
president, but the hints I could take away was that the president was still in bad
shape, in which case they didn’t want to expose him yet. Apparently, the speech
therapists had not been able to perform any miracle. But time was running out
for the president, and I knew that with the way events were going, the aces
would soon be taken out of his hands. Just a few days later, Gusau made his first
move.

In picking Gusau, Jonathan based his calculation not merely on Gusau’s security
network, experience or exposure. It was a strategic move motivated by Gusau’s
connection with the larger Yar’Adua family. Even though Danjuma was said to
have been the brains behind the appointment, it was common knowledge that
Gusau was an associate of the president’s late elder brother, Major General
Shehu Musa Yar’Adua (rtd.). His close relationship to the family can be
glimpsed from the fact that he actually signed the president’s hospital form in
Germany as next of kin at the early stage of his ailment. So, this implies that
Gusau had ample knowledge of the president’s medical history and was also
close enough to the family to offer ‘brotherly’ advice at this most crucial period.
And that was his first mission.

Three days after he assumed office, he visited the First Lady and, after the
pleasantries, told her that he would be making some changes including replacing
the ADC and the CSO to the president with new officers from both the military
and the SSS. To replace Mustapha, Gusau said he would bring in Colonel
Abdulazeez Musa Yar’Adua , the younger brother of the president (they both
have the same parents) as the new ADC; he also proposed a list of senior SSS
officers known to him and the First Lady from which a new CSO could emerge.
In presenting this proposition, Gusau made it clear he was acting not in an
official capacity but rather in what he considered the best interest of his younger
brother.
But the First Lady, who knew what the larger implications could be, was not
fooled and quickly resisted. She pleaded with Gusau not to expose her husband
to unnecessary danger. She said she had never dabbled into governance issues
and didn’t know the consideration that informed her husband’s choice of the
aides he appointed, hence she was not in a position to grant him, or anybody else
for that matter, the permission to change any of them. “My husband appointed
them by himself, so what do you expect me to tell him when he gets better: that I
changed his ADC and CSO?” The discussion, from what I later gathered, was
not very palatable, and it was evident Gusau’s mission was to move Yar’Adua
out of the villa, either to Katsina or back to hospital in the bid to resolve the
matter by terminating his presidency. Having penetrated the Yar’Adua family
and the president’s inner circle, Gusau couldn’t be said to be acting alone. His
move had the support of some of the friends and members of the president’s

“kitchen cabinet”, some of whom had by then started gravitating towards

Jonathan, seeing that the Yar’Adua era was gradually coming to an end. Gusau
also had the support of some extended family members who felt sidelined by the
First Lady and who did not take kindly to the fact that they were prevented from
seeing Yar’Adua both while he was in Saudi Arabia and when he was brought
back home.

With Gusau’s arrival on the scene, the First Lady knew she could soon be
outwitted. She moved quickly and rallied prominent citizens and respected emirs
in the north. She relayed what had transpired between them and pleaded for
intervention to prevent a situation that could lead to the forcible ejection of the
president from the villa.

While her intervention worked, externalizing the meeting only angered Gusau,
and the battle lines seemed drawn. His next move was a directive to the chief of
army staff that all the soldiers in the entire Brigade of Guards be posted out of
the villa with new soldiers brought in from a battalion in Sokoto.

With the president’s return handled almost like a military operation, a campaign
of calumny had been launched against the chief of army staff, Lt. General
Dambazzau. A brilliant military officer and fine gentleman, Dambazzau had
been caught in the crossfire of Nigerian politics simply on account of being a
northerner like the president. Yet, the reality was that as long as Yar’Adua was
alive and had not been removed, he remained, in the eyes of the law, the
commander in chief of the armed forces.
Jonathan had also been conferred the title of commander in chief by a resolution
of the National Assembly. Dambazzau and the entire armed forces were
therefore caught in the dilemma of serving two masters, and it was clear that
nothing, barring his removal as chief of army staff, would pacify Ijaw leader,
Chief Edwin Clark, who had publicly announced himself as Jonathan’s
‘godfather’. The charge against Dambazzau was the deployment of troops by the
Brigade of Guards on the night the president arrived in the country, even though
the military’s standard operating procedure for such exercise was followed.

The simmering uncertainty at the villa was not restricted to the military. Within
the civil society, there were a series of protests in Lagos and Abuja. While the
drama was on, some ministers, comprising mostly the elderly ones who had held
several appointments in the past, met at the ministry of defence to adopt a
common position on the state of the nation and what they believed Jonathan
should do to resolve the tension. The ministers were led by Niger Delta minister,
Chief Uffot Ekaette; others were defence minister, Major General Godwin Abbe;
education minister, Dr. Sam Egwu; interior minister, Alhaji Shettima Mongunu;
and petroleum minister, Dr. Rilwanu Lukman.

After their meeting, they decided to hold a session with Jonathan to impress
upon him the fact that the campaign being launched from within the Federal
Executive Council would be counter-productive. They adopted a common
position that was in sync with that of the governors. Their position formed their
discussion points with the acting president, namely:

• Jonathan was not running a distinct administration but rather a continuation of

the mandate given Yar’Adua and him in 2007. Jonathan should therefore resist
the attempt to invoke Section 144, because they felt it would fail, and if it did,
the consequences on the polity would be catastrophic.

• The campaign against Yar’Adua by some government officials was not right
because the president was being criminalized just on account of being sick.

• Jonathan should not make seeing Yar’Adua a precondition for continuing to

preside over the affairs of the nation or use it as a weapon to have the man
removed from power.

• The acting president should be wary of some politicians, especially from Niger
Delta, who were making inflammatory statements. Chief Edwin Clark was
particularly singled out.

By the time these elderly ministers met with Jonathan, his mind seemed already
made up that he could no longer wait for Yar’Adua. That conviction was
strengthened by what his own informants within the villa must have given him
about the condition of the president.

To Jonathan, it was time to move ahead. Three days after the meeting, he sacked
the entire cabinet. When it was reconstituted, none of these elders made it back
to his new cabinet while two ministers who had earlier been relieved of their
duties by Yar’Adua were returned to the cabinet. That was how Senator Sanusi
Daggash and Adamu Maina Waziri found their way back. The real talking point,
however, was the inclusion of Murtala Yar’Adua, nephew of the president, on
the list.

This move, believed to have been instigated by Obasanjo, led to serious

problems within the family. But it was not totally unexpected. It is believed
within the Yar’Adua family that there was no love lost between the First Lady
and Murtala’s mother, Hajjia Binta.

But beyond the feud between these two powerful women, there was also a
feeling that the president had not rallied the family the way his late elder brother
had done, even though Yar’Adua was the beneficiary of his political legacy. To
put the situation mildly, according to family insiders, Murtala and his siblings
believed they did not get a fair deal from the president and hence had a strained
relationship with him.

The ministerial nomination by Jonathan was therefore a political masterstroke

aimed at weakening the Yar’Adua camp in what had become a complex but
subtle power struggle.

Even though some prominent northern citizens tried to put pressure on Murtala
to reject the nomination because of its implications for the family, it turned out
that his mother’s commitment had been secured before the announcement was
made. So it was already a done deal.

The manner of the ministerial nominees’ composition also showed that, in some
states, Jonathan simply went for people who had an axe to grind with the
president, apparently in preparation towards the delicate issue of invoking
Section 144. In Bauchi State, for instance, the nominee was a member of the
opposition All Nigerian Peoples Party (ANPP) who led the National Interest
Group in the Senate, which worked for the actualization of Jonathan’s acting
presidency. He would later be given the Federal Capital Territory (FCT)
portfolio, considered in Nigeria’s political parlance as one of the

‘juiciest’ ministries because of the size of its budget and the enormity of
patronage that the office holder can dispense.

In the course of this period, I paid Jonathan a visit, which was ordinarily normal
and quite frequent, but this time under different circumstances. I recall the
conversation with him revolved around his frustration. I explained my own
dilemma to him and the fact that I would not want to be seen as abandoning my
boss when he was practically helpless. I also offered a piece of personal advice:
“Sir, if I were in your position, I would be wary of the people very close to
Yar’Adua but who are now gravitating towards you because if they could do
such to him, they will also do it to you.” While he said he understood my
predicament, he minced no words about the fact that what we had at the villa
was an aberration. He said it was the height of abnormality to have an acting
president within the villa with another who called himself president yet would
not be seen within the same villa. “Even in a situation where you have an acting
president, it is presumed that the president is not around. But here we are in the
same villa with a president nobody sees and an acting president who is in charge.
This is abnormal.” With this disposition, Jonathan decided to move, but bearing
in mind the complexity of the situation, given Nigeria’s ethnic and religious fault
lines. His first act was to raise a 27-man team of prominent leaders from Niger
Delta, led by Dr. Atuboyedia Obianime, to meet with an Arewa Consultative
Forum (ACF) team led by Major General IBM Haruna in Kaduna to begin what
they described as “a new window of rapprochement”.

This came at a period when ethnicity and religion were fast beginning to shape
discussions on the issue, particularly with the audience granted some prominent
northern Islamic clerics by the president on March 31, 2010.

The clerics, whose visit generated a lot of controversy, would be the first set of
people to publicly acknowledge setting their eyes on the president since he left
the country for Saudi Arabia on November 23, 2009. Incidentally, I played a role
in the visit. I recall that the day before the clerics came to the villa, the CSO had
sent me a note and sought my advice on four individuals who he said were
visiting the president. On the list, the only recognizable name was that of Dr.
Datti Ibrahim Ahmed. Of course, I didn’t like the fact that they were all
northerners because of the ethnic slant I knew the visit would be given, but I
imagined the four persons were political figures. But even if I had known they
were clerics, I wouldn’t have opposed the idea, because this was the first time
there was a suggestion that anybody from outside could see him. Having
campaigned that the president should be made to receive people, I concluded if
he saw those with whom he felt comfortable that could be a strategic way to
begin to open him up for public interaction.

But the problems started when one of the visitors, who turned out to be the chief
imam of the Abuja National Mosque, Ustaz Musa Mohammed, told his
congregation that Yar’Adua would resume duties soon, as “he has improved
remarkably.” In a lavishly publicized statement, the cleric gave a graphic
description of the posture of the president while they were with him, including
the fact that he was dressed in a jumper and trousers with a cap to match.
Besides, the Islamic leader, who confirmed that he had met with the president
alongside Dr. Datti Ibrahim Ahmed, president of the Supreme Council of Sharia
in Nigeria, and one Sheik Musa Pantami, explained that they sought permission
from the president’s family for the audience and not that they were invited to see
him. The fact that these visitors were Muslims and northerners was not missed,
especially when the acting president was not allowed to see him.

According to the chief imam, they met the president sitting down with his wife
while his ADC stood behind him. “Although we could not hear what he said,
from where we sat, we could see his mouth saying amen together with us when
we prayed for him. In fact, contrary to rumours that he was seriously ill, we saw
that he had improved tremendously, and we believe he [will] be able to resume
work any moment from now.” The only positive aspect of the clerics’ visit was
that it helped to debunk the insinuation that Yar’Adua was on life support. But it
also helped to exacerbate the political crisis, with the accusations that religion
was being introduced by the president’s handlers, especially when Dr. Datti
Ahmed gave his own version of events to the media, warning in the process that
Yar’Adua’s presidential authority must not be taken away from him: We met the
president around 5:00 p.m. late in the afternoon. Contrary to what some people
have been saying, the president is not in a situation where he is almost dead; he
is only sick. He was sitting down on a dining chair when we came in and met
him. He was not being supported by anybody but himself, he was sitting down
calmly. He did not look like someone who is almost dead.

When we entered, we were not sure of what we were going to meet. So we

entered and stood at a respectable distance and greeted him. He extended his
hand to us and we shook it one by one. This is contrary to the view of those who
keep saying he doesn’t know where he is. After that, we prayed for his health.
He joined us in the prayers, raising his hands the way we raised our own; his lips
were moving. When we finished, we told him we only came to greet him. He
shook hands with us.

We did not wait as such after that. However, we told him that we just wanted to
see him to know the truth from the lies that they have been telling us that he is
dead, no longer able to recognize anyone, and all the lies that you and I have
heard before. Obviously, he has lost some weight, and he is a bit weak, but he
was sitting down calmly. He shook our hands on arrival, and when we prayed
with him for his quick recovery, he again shook hands with us.

I wish to warn that there is need for people to be careful in the utterances being
made about incapacitation, taking the presidential authority and giving such to
other persons. Some people

[have] to reflect before they stage a civilian coup against him. President
Yar’Adua has his deputy, who [can] act for him while he is not there. He knows
that he is alive and is only unwell at this point in time.

However, nobody should take over his position because he is not available. The
president still has a good chance of recovery. Nobody should take over his post
and create problems for the country.

Those who are thinking of doing that are playing with fire. I will suggest that Dr.
Jonathan continues (sic) to act as president till Yar’Adua is fit enough to resume.
If he does not get well by 2011, elections will take place, and another person will
emerge through a democratic process. But if any person attempts to seize that
presidential authority now, the consequences will remain with the country for a
long time. It will not be a wise decision and not in the interest of even younger
generations of Nigerians.

Expectedly, there was national outrage over the visit. To resolve the tension,
there was a suggestion that prominent Christian leaders also be invited to pray
for him. In Nigeria, religion and politics have always had a good mix. While
they couldn’t reach the general overseer of the Redeemed Christian Church of
God, Pastor E. A. Adeboye, who was on the shortlist, they got the Christian
Association of Nigeria (CAN) president and Catholic archbishop of Abuja, Most
Rev. John Onaiyakan; presiding bishop of Living Faith Church, Bishop David
Oyedepo; and Rev. Emmanuel Kure from Kaduna. I was also invited to attend,
but I declined, arguing that since I didn’t attend that of the Muslim clerics, there
was no reason I should be at the session with the Christian clerics. I also advised
that the session should not be made a media event but that if the clerics so chose,
they could speak to the media afterwards; I would not report their visit.

The clerics came in about 4:30 p.m. on April 5, 2010, and after seeing and
praying for the president, they asked the First Lady whether she had any issue
she wanted to discuss with them. They said they were not just there to pray but
to see if they could offer a solution to what had become a complex problem.
They then had a private meeting with her, during which she narrated the story of
Yar’Adua’s ill health, their experience in Saudi Arabia, the return, and her fears
about the situation within the villa. After dispersing from the villa, the clerics
congregated in Abuja the next morning, having been invited by Jonathan, who
apparently wanted to hear firsthand the impression of the clerics.

At that time, one could count the number of people who had set their eyes on the
president—apart from the First Lady, the CSO, the ADC, his doctor, Hamza, and
about two personal stewards. Aside from his two friends, Hon. Shehu Inuwa of
the House of Representatives and Alhaji Dahiru Mangal, the only other people
who had seen him were his mother and his siblings. The Muslim clerics, the
Christian clerics and I completed the list. No other person, not even those
considered ‘cabal members’ were allowed to see him. So to invite the Christian
clerics, Jonathan must have been curious as to the state the president was in; he
must have needed information from people who he was certain would not
deceive him.

The meeting with Jonathan was, however, very brief, as the clerics explained the
circumstances that had led to their invitation. From what they saw of Yar’Adua,
the Christian leaders knew that only a miracle could bring him back as president,
and this they clearly stated. They therefore pleaded with Jonathan to show
compassion and understanding in the way he would deal with a man they
believed was in his last days.

16
The Days of the ‘Cabal’

It was sometime early in 2009 when an aide who was closer to the president than
I was came to my office to seek a favour. He wanted me to help him intervene to
save the job of the National Broadcasting Commission (NBC) director general,
Mr. Yomi Abolarinwa. He said he had it on good authority that some powerful
people in government had conspired to have the man removed because he
refused to bend the rule for them on the issuance of radio and television licences.
I knew why this aide had come to me: the president had contempt for people
who dabble into areas outside their purview.

Since my portfolio had to do with communication, the president would respect

my view, he must have concluded.

While I didn’t know Abolarinwa, I could recollect attending meetings where his
name had come up in a negative light, so I was not surprised that he was going to
be removed. The charge was always that he was shirking his responsibility as a
regulator by allowing certain private radio stations located in the southwest
region to be broadcasting politically dangerous material without him applying
sanctions. But the travails of the NBC director general, according to this aide,
had to do with his decision to stick to principles in the discharge of his official
duties. The documents he handed me backed this claim because they contained
official correspondences between the DG and the powerful people who wanted
him out.

My first inclination was to take up the matter with the information and
communications minister, Prof. Dora Akunyili, who I was sure would intervene
on the side of justice, but when I learnt the president was in the office and had no
visitor, I decided to see him immediately as suggested by the intermediary.
When I met with the president, I went straight to the point. I said I had been
alerted that the DG of NBC had problems, but I also knew the root of it. I
presented the matter and the documents before the president, who after going
through them shook his head and said, “Segun, I cannot thank you enough for
this. You know what you just did for me?

You prevented me from taking an unjust decision. I have just approved the man’s
sack.” He brought out a copy of a memo and tore it in my presence before now
going into an exhortation of the challenges confronting leaders in the face of
officials whose vested interests most often override the national interest.

During the crisis occasioned by his illness and refusal (or inability) to transmit a
letter to the National Assembly as demanded by law, I reflected on my
relationship with Yar’Adua and the opportunity he had given me to make some
positive contributions. For instance, it was my memo that led to the reduction of
the salaries and emoluments of public officials on the executive side. It was also
my memo that led to the composition of the Presidential Committee on Global
Economic Recession. Based on the advice I got from Dudu Orumen, I also wrote
the memo that led to the constitution of the Presidential Committee on the 2010
World Cup in South Africa at a time when our qualification for the tournament
was threatened. Given the bastardization of the national honours, I also
intervened with a memo that led to its review by the Justice Belgore Committee.
The foregoing are just a few of my several interventions approved by Yar’Adua,
who also gave me the liberty to discuss freely with him without any inhibition,
which speaks volumes about his kind of person.

I recall a particular episode when we were going to Saudi Arabia for the Third
OPEC

Summit, in November 2007. Before we left for the airport, someone had given
me a copy of a publication by a foreign website dedicated to oil and gas
reporting. The publication detailed how oil lifting licences were given out by
President Yar’Adua in a manner that lacked transparency. In the course of the
flight, I scribbled a handwritten note, attached the document to it and went to
hand it to him in his cabin.

Not long after, he called me back and confirmed that all the information
contained in the publication was accurate. At that time, the president was still
holding on to the Energy Ministry portfolio. He said that whenever we reached
Saudi Arabia, I should meet the minister of state for energy, Mr. Odein
Ajumogobia and give him the document to read in my presence and let him
know that I was acting on his instruction. He said I should listen to his comments
and report back to him. He added that I should do the same to the GMD

of NNPC, Eng. Abubakar Yar’Adua (not a relation of the president).

When we got to Riyadh, I acted as the president directed. I met the GMD first,
and he blamed everything on Ajumogobia and the president. When I later met
Ajumogobia, he explained that he was powerless and that the GMD of NNPC
had no regard for him since he was reporting directly to the president. He also
agreed the report was accurate but that the said allocations were done between
the president and the GMD.

I reported my ‘findings’ back to the president, who took time to explain his own
role as well as the roles of the promoters of some of the ‘briefcase companies’ on
the list. They were prominent people in the society, including those who had held
senior positions in government in the past. The president also debunked the
charges by both Ajumogobia and the GMD by explaining the role each played in
the matter.

What was not in doubt from the president’s explanation was that the GMD was
indeed bypassing Ajumogobia because he had direct access to the president. This
to me was not right. With my background in the Nigerian Extractive Industries
Transparency Initiative (NEITI), a governing body to which I had been
appointed by President Obasanjo in 2004, I was able to offer candid advice,
which the president promised to heed. When we returned, he indeed directed the
GMD to be reporting directly to Ajumogobia, but not long after, Lukman took
charge of affairs in the ministry and the equation changed.

Given the foregoing, it was natural that I would feel for Yar’Adua at his most
trying moments, especially during the crisis that followed his last trip to Saudi
Arabia. At that critical period, there was no doubt in my mind that the correct
thing to do was to send a letter of notification to the National Assembly so that
Dr. Goodluck Jonathan could assume the presidency in an acting capacity as
specified by the constitution. By not doing that, he did violence to the ideals I
knew he stood for and made my continued stay in government difficult to
defend.
Towards the end of 2009, I began to weigh all my options. By then also, there
were people calling on me to resign my appointment as Yar’Adua’s spokesman.
I can categorize them into two: the first comprised my friends and well-wishers,
who argued that I couldn’t possibly justify being spokesman for a president with
whom all Nigerians had lost contact. I agreed with the position of this group but
nonetheless felt that it was better for me to wait for the arrival of the president
before taking any such decision. I had my reason: At a time when the handlers of
the VP were desperate to take power and there was already a mix of ethnic and
religious rivalry in the crisis, I didn’t want to be seen as taking any action that
would hurt Yar’Adua politically.

At that point, I had nothing to lose by resigning since I had my exit plan already
mapped out; besides, such a course of action would have earned me some
applause from my colleagues in the media and civil society. But the question I
asked myself was, how would Yar’Adua feel whenever he recovered and he
heard that I had jumped ship just because he was sick? He definitely didn’t
deserve that from me.

The option I chose was to go to school, and by January 2010, my exit plan was
already secured, and the people close to me were aware. Incidentally, there was a
second group that also wanted me to resign from government based on certain
political calculations.

People in this group were not thinking of my interest or, for that matter, that of
the nation.

By the beginning of 2010, there were already aspirations for the 2011 general
elections, and different politicians were making their projections. Owing to the
strategic position I held as spokesman for the president, there were those who
felt that a public announcement of my resignation would weaken Yar’Adua’s
hold on power, and they wanted to use me to achieve that end. Even when I
knew how close some of these people were to Jonathan, they still offered
‘advice’ for me to resign ‘on principle’. I refused to meet their expectation.

When going into public service, I was under no illusion that everybody would
like my decision or the choices I would make, but at every point in the course of
my stewardship, I tried to stay true to the values I espoused as a commentator on
public affairs. Did I make mistakes? Yes I did. But my decision at every point
was based on the evaluation of the information I had and what I considered to be
the best approach in the circumstances I found myself at the time. It is possible
that others might react a different way given the same situations, but I made my
choices and I take responsibility for them. Quite naturally, Yar’Adua’s illness
and the power struggle it unwittingly fuelled led to all manner of speculation, the
most ludicrous of which was the myth of a cabal that had hijacked power in Aso
Rock and for which I was fronting.

While I never placed any premium on the ‘cabal’ theory, a conversation on the
day Architect Namadi Sambo was sworn in as VP put the issue in its real
perspective. When he was still governor of Kaduna State, Sambo would always
visit my office to say hello anytime he came to the villa, and with that we
became friends. So when he was nominated to the position of VP, I decided to
congratulate him the moment it was confirmed by the National Assembly.

I met with him at his new Akinola Aguda official residence, but as I made to
leave, Mr.

Isaiah Balat asked me to join his car to the villa so I could also witness the
swearing in. It was a big vehicle, so there were many people inside. On the way,
Balat, himself a former minister in the Obasanjo government, asked, “Segun,
this cabal thing, were you really a member?”

Before I could respond, former Federal Capital Territory minister, Mallam Nasir
el-Rufai, who played a prominent role in the campaign that eventually brought
Jonathan to power, interjected, “There was no cabal, we created the myth in the
media to neutralize Turai.” The story at that time was that a ‘cabal’ had captured
power in Aso Rock and was ruling in the name of a president many assumed was
even dead. Yet nothing can be farther from the truth. While I also saw no sense
in the way Yar’Adua was brought back into the country, especially when he was
still sick, the fact was that his wife never interfered in the affairs of government;
it was Jonathan who was running the show as acting president.

What was happening at the time was that there were ministers and other top
government officials as well as businessmen and women who were fighting
either to retain their power and privileges under Yar’Adua or to secure such
under Jonathan. On the side of the president were people like the agriculture
minister, Dr. Abba Ruma, his FCT
counterpart, Senator Adamu Aliero and Tanimu, as well as Alhaji Dahiru
Mangal (businessman and friend of President Yar’Adua). They needed no one to
tell them that with Yar’Adua out, they would also be left out in the cold. On the
other side were mines and steel minister, Mrs. Deziani Allison Maduekwe and
her Niger Delta counterpart, Godsday Orubebe, who were fighting to become the
new power brokers in the villa, with strong backing from private-sector people
like Femi Otedola. What was interesting about these disparate interests was that
there was no coordinated group either on the side of Yar’Adua or on the side of
Jonathan, but as ‘cabals’ go, these were some of the real vested interests jostling
for power at a time when alliances and counter-alliances were being forged.

Even before that confession by el-Rufai, I knew there was no cabal, and aides of
President Jonathan would bear witness that it was the joke in Aso Rock, as I
always announced my presence at meetings as ‘representative of the cabal’. That
was before Sam Worlu changed my designation to ‘head of the intellectual wing
of the cabal’. Within the villa, the myth of a ‘cabal’ taking decisions at a time
when Jonathan was effectively in charge suited the campaign to quickly resolve
the logjam with the legal transfer of power from a president nobody was sure
was dead or alive.

Yet, outside the villa, Nigerians were simply led to believe a lie! But the more
this public perception was reinforced, the more difficult my job became. For
instance, in the interview I granted the NTA to retract my earlier one where I
addressed Jonathan as VP, I stated, quite correctly, that the First Lady had not
hijacked power in Aso Rock. This was based on the claims supposedly made by
the minister of information, Professor Dora Akunyili.

Following the cancellation of the FEC meeting the day the president was brought
in from Saudi Arabia, Akunyili told State House correspondents, “He (Acting
President Jonathan) invited us for a meeting in his meeting room at 2:00 p.m.,
and when we came, he told us that the president has returned. He has been
briefed by the aides of the president and that he hopes to see the wife of the
president this evening and that when we meet next week, we will be briefed on
the outcome of the Saudi Arabia trip by the members of council.

And that when he is eventually briefed by our president, he will call us again.”
The banner headline in most newspapers the next day, however, was ‘Jonathan to
Meet Turai’ with imputations that the First Lady was now running the affairs of
the country and that the acting president would be reporting to her. In my
interview, I corrected this insinuation by saying, “When you hear that Turai is in
charge, Turai takes over, all those things are not correct, there is no such thing,
and you don’t expect the acting president, Dr. Jonathan, to report to the First
Lady. It is abnormal and it won’t happen. What the acting president actually said
was that he was going to see the First Lady and ask about the husband, that is,
the president, and probably see him. To me, it is a normal situation, which I
believe is the natural thing to do.”

It was this clarification from me that was interpreted to mean that I had become
the First Lady’s ‘tool’ by taking a stand that put a lie to the general notion that
she had taken charge at the villa. Interestingly, it did not even matter to my
critics that, apparently embarrassed by the report, the acting president had
himself directed Ima Niboro to clarify the comments attributed to him at the
meeting between him and the ministers. Niboro’s statement, issued on the same
day as my interview but, of course, without attracting as much attention reads,
“This is to clarify the comments made by the acting president, Goodluck Ebele
Jonathan, when he met with members of the Federal Executive Council
yesterday on the return of President Umaru Musa Yar’Adua. The Acting
President had said that he was briefed by the President’s aides that he (President
Yar’Adua) was resting after the journey, but that he (Acting President) intended
to meet with the First Lady, Hajjia Turai Yar’Adua, later in the day to say hello
to the family. These remarks seem to have been widely misinterpreted in some
quarters, hence this clarification.” The problems in the villa escalated despite the
clarifications, worsened by the fact that Yar’Adua was still kept away from the
public, including even the acting president. But this was something over which I
had no control. By this period, however, my days in government were already
numbered whether or not Yar’Adua returned to office, though I was determined
to keep a dignified silence even when I didn’t agree with what was going on.

It was convenient for my critics to ignore the fact that between November 23,
2009, when Yar’Adua travelled to Saudi Arabia and his controversial return, I
spoke only five times.

The first, to announce on the day he travelled that he was going on medicals; the
second, four days later, to say that the diagnosis revealed he had pericarditis
(which I had a challenge pronouncing); the third, on January 10, 2010, from
Angola (where I had gone to watch the Cup of Nations) to say that the president
was not dead; this was a reaction to the rumour fuelled by a story in NEXT ; the
fourth, to announce on February 24, 2010, that he was back to the country; and
the fifth, 24 hours later, to clarify that Jonathan remained acting president!

Indeed, throughout the period the president was in Saudi Arabia, I assisted the
office of the vice president because my concerns were always about the nation. I
recall that on the day the National Assembly passed the resolution to make
Jonathan the acting president, I was the first to rush to his office that he needed
to make a strong broadcast that would put the crisis behind the nation. By then, I
already had my exit plan clearly mapped out but decided nonetheless that I
would not desert Yar’Adua.

I recall expressing anger when I saw Niboro and Jonathan’s special adviser on
political matters, Dr. Akilu Sani Indabawa, trying to shield the computer from
me while drafting the acceptance speech. I concluded that they didn’t want me
around and left. Later that day, I called Oghiadome and requested a meeting of
all presidential aides in his office.

At the meeting the next day, I didn’t mince words. I told them that I could not
work under a situation of intrigues and that I was ready to quit government if
there was no longer trust. Oghiadome calmed me down and assured me that we
would all work together. The meeting was instructive, because after I spoke, the
president’s personal secretary, Matt Aikhionbare, who would later be retained by
Jonathan also voiced the same concerns as mine.

The campaign against me was that I was disrespectful of his person and that I
aligned myself with one imaginary cabal that thwarted his bid to take over
power. Yet the only

‘evidence’ being cited was that I called Jonathan vice president rather than acting
president on the day the president arrived in the country from Saudi Arabia.
Looking back, that was a big mistake, which was due to the circumstances of the
day.

I recall insisting that I would not make any statement unless I saw the president,
and this stalled our meeting for more than fifteen minutes. That explains why I
will forever respect David Edevbie. He was not the only one at the meeting who
said I was being

‘unreasonable’ for making seeing the president a precondition for issuing the
statement, but he came to my house the next day because he said he owed me a
personal apology. I felt touched by his gesture.

It is so easy to forget now, but there was tension in the country on February 24,
2010, and nobody had any clue as to what was going on except those who had
just returned from Saudi Arabia. Within the villa (and by implication the
country), nobody was in charge.

What we wanted to avert that day was anarchy, which we tried to do by

reiterating that Jonathan should continue to run the affairs of the country.

In light of the fact that Yar’Adua was brought home invalid, which I didn’t know
at the time, I agree it was wrong for me to have addressed Jonathan as VP; I
should have addressed him as acting president as I did the next day without any
prompting. I accept responsibility for that error of judgement and feel deeply
sorry about it. However, given that the arrival of the president coincided with a
period when the executive council had been divided along ethnic lines, when
there was already a power struggle between the loyalists of the president and
those whose sympathy lay largely with Jonathan, the tone and content of my first
statement helped significantly to relieve the tension.

But as days went into weeks and Yar’Adua was still kept incommunicado to
Nigerians and I refused to say anything, it was not unexpected that I would be
considered disloyal by people close to the First Lady. The accusation was always
that I allowed the opponents of the president to attack him without me hitting
back. To this charge were also added innuendoes about my ethnicity, especially
by those who never saw wisdom in Yar’Adua picking an ‘outsider’ as his
spokesman.

Notwithstanding all the darts coming at me from all angles, I kept my silence,
which in itself spoke volumes as to what was going on at a period when
Nigerians, used to having

‘ghost workers’, were now saddled with a ‘ghost president’!

17
The End

Even though I had been reluctant to accept an offer to join the government in
2007, I still concede that I considered it a privilege participating in high level
discussions about the governance of my country. I also enjoyed working with the
president, who had come to trust my judgement on several issues. Unfortunately,
his seemingly endless bout with what was apparently a chronic illness made
governance such a daunting challenge and my own role more and more
untenable.

My frustration with his health challenges actually began long before his last
Saudi trip. It started a year earlier when he went on the controversial first trip to
Saudi Arabia, supposedly to perform Umrah (lesser hajj), and would not return
as scheduled, thus missing the state visit to Brazil. I recall my exchange of mails
on September 2, 2008, with my friend, Waziri Adio.

Right from my days at THISDAY, I had always respected Waziri’s judgement at

critical times, and when I felt I needed to express my feelings of despondency at
what was happening around me at that particular period, it was natural that I
would turn to him. In my e-mail, I wrote:

This, I must confess, is one of the most frustrating moments of my life. I came to
government with much enthusiasm, thinking one would be in a position to make
some difference. But I am wasting my time here. The president is a good man
with whom I enjoy working, and I still have the access. But there are issues now
that make effective governance practically impossible. And in that situation,
other forces will come in as I see them coming in, to the detriment of the nation.
You must notice that I have been quiet at a time [when] the rumour mill is rather
strong on the president’s health. The point is that I cannot lie because of what I
know.

The truth is that in Saudi Arabia, only [the] CSO and the First Lady can access
the president, as they have effectively fenced off every other person. It was the
bravado of Dr. Bukola Saraki (Kwara State governor) that got the president to
speak with the VP and some other people, including Chairman (of THISDAY,
Nduka Obaigbena) two days ago. Yet that happened because Saraki has a friend
among the Saudi Princes who was able to bulldoze his way through the hospital
security to take him in. That is the situation in Saudi Arabia. And to worsen
matters, the country is drifting. Most of the ministers don’t know their left from
their right even though they also claim, and rightly too, that they don’t know
what is going on.

I have asked myself several times why I allowed myself to join government. I
worry about my country.

I am sending you this in confidence, and I have not discussed with anybody and
have no intention to: I am looking for an exit strategy by way of either admission
to study in the United States or any job that will take me outside the country so I
can go with my family. The former Chief of Staff, a very good man, called me
shortly before he left and advised that under no circumstance should I be
frustrated or provoked into leaving government. I had wanted to quit at one point
early in the life of the administration, and he counseled against it. He said if I
had to fight physically with some people, I should do it before adding: “Nigeria
belongs to all of us.” That statement rings in my ears anytime I feel low, but
even at that, a time will come that one may no longer be able to tolerate what is
going on….The country is not being told the truth, the health situation of the
president, from what I can gather, is bad. And there is no date as to when he will
return to the country from Saudi Arabia. Yet everyone is blaming
communication, as if I don’t know what to do. So you can see my frustration.

Waziri’s reply lifted my spirits:

I share your pains. But this is the real world of politics and governance. So, I
should say welcome. You see, I have read a number of columnists and activists
saying full disclosure is necessary and blaming communication. But the easiest
thing to do in the world is to venture opinion from the safety of your laptop or
press release. In the real world of politics, things are more complicated. When
things like this happen, everybody becomes an expert on communication. I think
the most important thing to do is to maintain a sense of perspective and walk the
fine line with your dignity intact. This does not mean you need to do something
rash. If you have the clearance, you could say something like “the president went
for lesser Hajj and took ill (like any human being) necessitating his
hospitalization. He has received medical attention and will soon return to the
country.” If he is not returning soon, you will need to say something at a point,
as the media and civil society will not back off, and this has implications,
including for security.

Exiting is not an option, Nigeria belongs to all of us, not to some people, and it is
in our interest to make it work. Think of it as further education about the
complexity of our country, about why things do not work, and about how they
could.

This is not what columnists do. It is the real thing; in the real world. There is a
lot to be done; a lot to be learnt. Hang in there my brother. Bear whatever blame
with equanimity. It goes with the terrain. This too shall pass.

By the end of 2009, when it became glaring that the health of the president had
become an issue that would not go away, all these frustrations would return, and
I came to the inescapable conclusion that I had to leave government. But mindful
of several factors, including the ethnicity issue, I resolved I would have to do it
with tact. I recall that when I was appointed, there were several people from the
northern part of the country who felt that Yar’Adua had not made a wise political
choice. The argument was that his predecessor, Obasanjo, a Yoruba man, picked
three kinsmen of his in succession, and so by the same logic, Yar’Adua ought to
have picked a Hausa-Fulani man. There was an open campaign about this, which
he ignored. I didn’t want to give those who criticized my appointment an
opportunity to say, “We warned him.” He didn’t deserve that from me.

Through the help of my friend, the Consul General of the Chinese Embassy in
Nigeria, Mr. Guo Kun, I had secured a scholarship for a one-year MPA
programme at the Beijing University that would have enabled me to go with my
family. My relationship with the Chinese embassy dates back to 2001, when, as
the Saturday editor of THISDAY, I was invited from Nigeria as one of several
African journalists selected for the first Sino-African conference in Beijing. It
was a fascinating experience. When Guo arrived at the embassy in 2005, he took
special interest in THISDAY, and he struck a personal friendship with me.
Through him, the Chinese ambassador, Mr. Xu Jianguo (now back to Beijing)
also became a personal friend, and he hosted me and my wife to dinner several
times in Abuja. He also frequently visited me in my office. So when I was
looking for a way out of government at the end of 2009, it was inevitable that I
would approach him to help, and he did.

My plan, therefore, was that whenever the president came back, I would inform
him that I had secured admission, which would then mean that I could resign.
That way, there would be no question of disloyalty, as the reason for my
resignation would be clear. But the circumstances of his arrival back to the
country in late February were not such that made such a discussion possible. So,
I kept things to myself. But by then I had become an object of ridicule, with
people ascribing to me things I never said or did. I took all these in stride as part
of the price to pay for accepting to serve in public office. Even though it was a
very difficult period for me, I did not want to be seen as abandoning my boss in
his hour of trial, especially when I knew the state he was in.

I recall having a conference call with THISDAY editors, who told me to resign,
until I confirmed to them that I had seen the president. I also explained my exit
plan to them, given my Beijing University admission.

By a stroke of fortune, on April 14, 2010, a friend sent me an internet link to the
Weatherhead Center for International Affairs, the largest international research
center within Harvard University’s Faculty of Arts and Sciences. Without
bothering to examine the admission requirements, I simply applied and sent my
résumé to the program director, Dr. Kathleen Molony. Less than an hour later, I
got a response from her. She wrote that application for the 2010 session closed
two months earlier on February 25 and that participants had been chosen. She
however added that given that she found my application quite compelling, she
would discuss it with the selection board to see if they could still consider me.
That began an exchange of correspondences with Harvard University, and on
May 4, 2010, I finally got the offer of admission.

I was so excited when I got the mail that I could not help but share it with the
reporters who were then in my office. So, quite naturally, the news spread within
the villa that I would be leaving for Harvard. This was a day before the president
died. The next morning, May 5, the principal secretary to the acting president,
Chief Mike Oghiadome sent for me. The moment I entered his office, he said, “I
gathered you won an award at Harvard, and you don’t want to tell oga
[Jonathan]. Please go and put it into writing for him.”

On the way back to my office, I ruminated over what Oghiadome had said and
concluded that it was just a clever way of asking me to resign immediately, so I
took the hint. In what I titled ‘Letter of Disengagement from Government’ and
addressed to the acting president, I expressed my gratitude for the opportunity to
have served in the government of my country. When I took my letter to
Oghiadome, he expressed shock, and I could see it was genuine. “You are
resigning, why?”

I explained to him that my Harvard appointment was for one year, and since he
said I should commit myself into writing immediately, he implied I should
resign. He felt very bad. “No, I thought it was an award like a plaque or
something, which the State House normally gazettes. No, you are not going
anywhere....” While I felt relieved that he was not hounding me out as I had
earlier imagined, I nonetheless said that since I had already written the letter, he
should pass it on. He minuted on it before sending it to the secretary of the
acting president, who in turn called me to come and take the letter in personally.

I had an interesting time with the acting president. He was evidently very happy
for me, and I must have spent about thirty minutes with him as we reflected on
the state of the nation and the then prevailing situation in the villa. I had enjoyed
a good relationship with Jonathan, who had two pet names for me: ‘media guru’
and ‘Focus Nigeria’.

Incidentally, anytime he addressed me by the second appellation, he would add

with laughter for the benefit of whoever was around: “Do you know the
producer of Gbenga Aruleba’s programme (on AIT)? It’s Segun.”

At this period when the nation was in crisis, the burden of leadership had made
him lose much of his sense of humour, but we still had a good discussion. I
could understand the power game going on and why Jonathan felt less obligated
to the president. Aside from the refusal to transmit a letter to the National
Assembly, which then necessitated the intervention of the lawmakers, the
relationship between the president and his deputy had started on a wrong note.

Early in the life of the administration, Jonathan had written a memo to the
president seeking for his office to be self-accounting. Specifically, he requested
that the office of the vice president be given the same role and responsibility that
were enjoyed by Atiku Abubakar before he fell out of favour with President
Obasanjo. After a meeting held at the villa between the duo and attended by the
principal secretary and chief of staff, the memo was turned down in favour of
‘one presidency’.

Even if Jonathan could forget that slight, his aides definitely could not because
they were more affected by the decision. So when the opportunity came for their
boss to become the main man at the villa, it was no surprise that they led the
charge. On the home front, Mrs.

Patience Jonathan was also preparing to be the First Lady. As early in the
administration as December 2007, a group of women had paid her a visit, and in
the course of the discussion, one had asked: “How is oga ?” To this Mrs.
Jonathan replied, “My husband is in the office reading newspapers.” Then she
added in pidgin English, rather sarcastically:

“Abi no be newspaper Turai [Mrs. Yar’Adua] say make im dey read ?” No

matter the politics between him and his ailing boss, Jonathan was very gracious
to me on May 5, 2010. As I was leaving his office, I met the NSA, Gusau, on the
way, and I shared the information about my Harvard offer with him. It was the
first time I would meet him since his appointment, and he also congratulated me
and fixed an appointment for us to meet. Just as I got downstairs, I also
encountered the SGF, who also congratulated me.

Given that the news of my Harvard appointment had spread, I concluded I

needed to meet the First Lady before she would hear about it from a third party. I
called her media assistant, Bakori, and told him to fix an appointment for me to
see her. He called back to say she would see me that same day at the residence at
9:00 p.m. I also went to meet the CSO at home. I was a bit uncomfortable about
this meeting, as I felt he would think I was deserting them. Even though our
working relationship began with mutual suspicions, we had become friends in
the intervening period, and I could see what he too was going through.

Within the villa, and even among the aides, the CSO was a very unpopular
person, and till today, many hold him responsible not only for the crisis in the
nation but indeed for the fate that ultimately befell the president. I share a
contrary view. Having been a state house correspondent in the past, I knew that
no CSO was really ever liked because they tended to be overprotective of the
president. In the case of Tilde, the circumstances of his appointment pointed to
the fact that it must have been based on some bond of trust between him and the
president. Some other officer from Katsina was first appointed as CSO, but after
just 24 hours, the president asked General Mohammed to help him seek out
Tilde, who was the SSS Director in Katsina between 1999 and 2003.

I observed one thing about his relationship with the president: of all the aides,
Tilde was the only one who could openly stand up to the First Lady, yet with
Yar’Adua, everybody—including childhood friends—knew that his immediate
family, especially his wife, was off-limits for them. That the CSO could
consistently cross that line without consequences meant something. I had a
feeling he knew everything about the illness of the president, who must have
taken him into confidence. I therefore reckoned that it was on that basis that he
took it upon himself to protect the man and in the process committed what
turned out to be grave errors. So I had sympathy for Tilde even in times when I
found his actions rather irrational. I also found him a rather pleasant person
outside officialdom, so we became friends.

When I gave him my letter of offer from Harvard on May 5, 2010, I got an
unexpected reaction. He read it twice and said rather solemnly: “My brother, I
am very happy for you, and this can only be divine. I wish I could also get
something like this today.” I reacted immediately: “To do what? You mean you
will leave oga . You can’t be serious!”

He laughed and said he was joking, as he congratulated me again before we

moved to other things. What I would later learn was that, shortly before I met
with the CSO, he had just left the president, whose heart had stopped beating and
had to be resuscitated after pressure was applied to his chest, an indication that
the end was nigh.

By 9:00 p.m., I was at the Residence for my scheduled appointment with the
First Lady, but the moment I arrived, she was called upstairs. That turned out to
be the period her husband finally gave up. Immediately it happened, both the
CSO and ADC took charge.

They went to inform the acting president, who would later come with the
Speaker, deputy Senate president, SGF, NSA and his principal secretary. The
First Lady took him and the Speaker upstairs to see the remains of her husband.

The death that night brought a dramatic end to the saga in the country, yet
notwithstanding the bad blood generated by his last weeks in office, there was a
national, and indeed global, consensus that Yar’Adua was a decent man who
gave his best to his country despite his health challenges.
His death also released me, as I could make public my resignation and the fact
that I was going to Harvard. On May 6, 2010, I arrived at the villa early as
family members were moving their personal effects into vehicles. The solemn
moment came when the president’s body was wheeled out into the ambulance
that would take his remains to the airport for the beginning of his final journey. I
could not help reflecting on what might have been had he not been hampered by
ill health. Even at that, I believed he gave the thankless job of building a good
society his very best, refusing to let the position of president and the power he
wielded deprive him and others of their humanity.

Shortly before we left for the airport, one of the aides stared hard at the official
portrait of the president that was still hanging by the Red Carpet, removed it, and
turning to me, said, “I am very happy that this is the image of the president that
Nigerians will always remember when they think of him.”

I perfectly understood his sentiment. Given the manner in which the illness
ravaged his body, the image in the photograph bore little resemblance to the
Yar’Adua that died.

What remains sad for me, however, is that this was also true in several other
ways.

###

About the Author

Olusegun Adeniyi, a former editor of THISDAY and currently chairman of its

editorial board, was appointed Special Adviser to the President on
communications on May 30, 2007, a position he held until May 5, 2010, when
his boss, President Umaru Musa Yar’Adua died.

Author of four books ( The Last 100 Days of Abacha, Fortress on Quicksand,
Abiola’s Travails, and Politricks), he is a founding member of the National
Stakeholder Working Group of Nigeria Extractive Industries Transparency
Initiative (NEITI) and Fellow of the Nigeria Leadership Initiative (NLI). He
conducted research on the factors that shape incumbent presidential elections in
Africa at Harvard University’s Weatherhead Center for International Affairs,
where he recently completed a one-year fellow’s programme.


About Prestige Publishing

Kachifo Limited is an independent publishing house in Lagos, Nigeria. Our

mission is to tell our own stories.

Prestige is our subsidy imprint through which we offer diverse clients the full
resources of our editorial and publishing expertise. Services we offer include
publishing consultancy, editing, design and layout, printing and e-book
conversion.

For more information on Kachifo Limited and our Prestige service, please: visit
our website: www.kachifo.com

email: prestige@kachifo.com or info@kachifo.com

call: 01-7406741 or 0807 736 4217