By Innocent Oparadike
The rumoured death of Nigeria’s former military president, which thankfully turned out to be the figment of someone’s twisted imagination, jolted me to action. It reminded me that death was inevitable and inexorable for every mortal. Like all mortals, General Ibrahim Badamosi Babangida (IBB), Nigeria’s only military president, will one day die. But he should hold on. He shouldn’t be in a hurry to transit to the other world. This is for two reasons. First, he owes Nigerians an authentic account of his coloruful life as a soldier, president and statesman. Two, he has to wait for me to pay him a debt of gratitude that has burdened me for 31 years.
In 1985, Babangida broke a glass ceiling. He brushed aside threats, blackmail and high-level conspiracy to make me editor of the Federal Government-owned New Nigerian Newspaper. I thus became the first and only southerner and Christian to edit the New Nigerian. The story actually started in 1982. Chief MKO Abiola, Publisher of the Concord Newspaper, had directed that all political stories had to be cleared with me. Some of the editors of the individual titles resented this directive. One of them told the publisher that I was using the position to enrich myself. Chief MKO Abiola ordered an investigation. Unknown to me, my lifestyle and banking relationships were thoroughly investigated. The outcome reinforced his faith in me. He promoted me from Chief Political Correspondent to Group Political Editor.
When I got to know of the investigation, I felt like a victim. My joy at being promoted was dampened by the thought of being surreptitiously investigated. I used this as an excuse to accept an offer to be the pioneer editor of a new newspaper to be based in Kaduna, known as the Democrat. Courtesy demanded that I informed a publisher who had treated me as his kid brother not only that I was moving, but also why I was moving. He apologised for doubting my integrity but asked me to see the brighter side, the outcome reinforced his faith in me. He advised me against taking up the Democrat job. He said it was a ploy to get me out of the system. He revealed that the northern establishment had asked him to fire me but he refused. He warned that by taking the appointment, I was making myself vulnerable. They would use me and fire me.
Unfortunately, I had given my word to the prospective employers, who took me on a facility tour, prior to making me an offer. My stay at the Democrat was brief. The first rescue mission of General Muhammadu Buhari spelt the death of the Democrat, as unknown to me until then, its continued survival was dependent on the Nigerian Peoples Party (NPN) remaining in power. With that coup and the drying up of the funding the dream of a Daily Democrat fled. I became a columnist in the weekly paper, received a heft salary I didn’t earn. I felt obliged to resign and I did. Members of the Board of Directors couldn’t believe that a Nigerian with a young family (I wedded Lady Esther in 1983) would resign for not earning his pay.
Just as I was to leave Kaduna for Lagos, I saw an advertisement in the New Nigerian for vacancies that included Editorial Board members and Deputy Editor. I settled for member, editorial board, but someone persuaded me to go for Deputy Editor and I did. Professionals were hired for the recruitment exercise. Given my qualifications and experience, I really had no competition in both the written and oral tests.
But I had an intrinsic disability. I was a Christian, southerner and Igbo. Some hawks among New Nigerian stakeholders wanted to use the name of General Buhari to deny me the position. Unfortunately for them, I knew Alhaji Maida Wada, his Press Secretary, in the News Agency of Nigeria, where we were both pioneer staff.
I told him what was going on, he asked the General, who reportedly retorted, “what is my business with who becomes Deputy Editor of New Nigerian.” Mallam Maida Wada came to Kaduna to tell the New Nigerian Management to do the needful and leave General Buhari out of the internal politics of the newspaper house.
So, I became the Deputy Editor of the New Nigerian in 1984. My editor, Mallam Bukar Zarma, was a brilliant young banker, who transitioned to editor, in the New Nigeriantradition that began with Mallam Adamu Ciroma, the venerable newspaper’s first Nigerian editor and later, chief executive. My relationship with him was a bit tricky at first. I was a professional journalist. He was a new entrant. I was also more experienced and probably older in age. With time, he understood that I meant well, had no designs on his job. He gave me ample room to perform, which was smart of him, as he earned more discretionary time. Unfortunately, there were those in-house, who resented his superimposition on them. They fought him to a point he needed to disengage. I became acting editor. Those who ousted the substantive editor had sought to recruit me into their group, but I told them about my loyalty to my boss. They resented my being at the mantle of office they had successfully fought for. I became the new target.
Meantime, General Babangida had emerged as new leader, following the overthrow of General Buhari in August 1985. As he assumed power, he had Commodore Ebitu Ukiwe, as his deputy. We learnt that they had decided to make Mohammed Haruna, the Managing Director and me, editor. The Permanent Secretary, of the Federal Ministry of Information, a gentleman from a powerful family in Kano had the duty of communicating this. Rather than do this, he allegedly convinced Mohammed Haruna, in the interest of the North, to accept the position of editor while they looked for a suitable northerner to appoint as MD.
After acting for six months, the Board had to decide to confirm my appointment or revert me to my substantive position. It chose the second option. But there was a problem. Its preferred candidate, Mohammed, was in Columbia University, as a student. So, they came up with the brilliant idea that I continued to edit the newspaper, which they acknowledged I was doing well, but the name on the imprint would be Mohammed Haruna’s. I felt very sad that bigotry could descend to this level. I wrote back to say what they asked me to do was unlawful and unjust, therefore, impossible for me to accept. They decided to recall Mohammed and summoned me to a meeting and ordered me to withdraw my letter, where I had stated that members of the Board were, as individuals, decent persons but as a collectivity a disgrace to human decency. I went to the Boardroom, reaffirmed what I had written and walked out on them.
Leaving the boardroom, I went to my office, picked my bag and left the premises. I was simmering. I was sad. I was confused. I couldn’t go home, because I didn’t know what to tell my expectant young wife. I decided to visit an army general friend of mine living in Kaduna. I knew him in Rotary Club and saw in him a decent Nigerian. Luckily, he was in. General Mohammed Inna Wushishi was Chief of Army Staff in the Shagari administration in the 2nd Republic. The general was surprised to see me at that time on a work day. He wanted to know if anything was the matter. I told him I was out of a job. I narrated to him what had happened. He asked me how I felt. I said sad. Sad that a body of eminent Nigerians would judge somebody for a position not based on competence on the job but on extraneous factors, such as geography, faith, tribe and tongue. That day as I walked in, there was somebody who was sitting quietly apparently reading the dailies. He was not introduced to me, so I just greeted him and sat down with my host to converse.
At some point in the conversation, he asked our host for the use of his phone. He told him that the phone was by his side. He asked for permission to use the phone inside. This other visitor was also a general, somebody I already knew by repute but was yet to meet. General Mohammed Ibrahim Gusau was this visitor. He finished his conversation, came out and went back to what he was doing earlier without saying a word.