28 December 2001
editorial
It is hard to believe that Chief Bola Ige, the owner of wits and the Cicero of Nigerian politics, is gone. His brutal murder Sunday night will definitely cause a shift in our local politics in the times ahead. So much has been said about the road to 2003 being pregnant with dark portents. But if this be a fore-taste, then it's simply unacceptable.
The man undeniably embodied so many things about our politics. The way and manner these beasts chose to abbreviate his life is a clear antithesis of the cause of peace and progress to which he was fanatically devoted all his life. More, these cowards chose the most unlikely season - Christmas- to unleash their outlawry. Christmas is a period of joy. Now, the celebration has been turned to mourning.
Only those who have interacted closely with the Cicero can adequately appreciate or tell the abundance of humanity he radiated. It is correct to say that people of my generation grew up to the Ige mystique. We inherited fables of how, with a force of mere tongue, he once floored Chief Richard Akinjide during a live television debate in 1979. Then, Ige was the governorship candidate of Unity Party of Nigeria in Oyo state while Akinjide stood on the platform of National Party of Nigeria. UPN naturally owed its genealogy to the Action Group of the first republic. Expectedly, on the way to the 1979 elections, UPN made an issue out of the free education policy enunciated by AG in the past which, no doubt, forced the rise of the Yoruba nation as the clear leader of the educational ladder in the country. Of course, this would, in turn, later cement the Yoruba supremacy in the industrial complex as well.
Now, while featuring on the television programme that day, Akinjide sought to belittle that legacy by saying on air that the so-called free education policy largely bred vagabonds and idiots. Characteristically, Ige thereafter established that relations of Akinjide benefitted from that programme and, therefore, challenged him to list those in his (Akinjide's) family who were the nonentities. Cornered, Akinjide stood up and walked out on the television camera. Voters chose Ige on the election day.
Even outside politics, Ige was deeply committed to the cause of true friendship. I recall that way back in 1994, the Cicero had undertaken the tiring burden of being the chairman of the committee of friends who organised an elaborate chain of events to mark the 60th birthday of Professor Wole Soyinka, his bosom friend. The Nobel laureate had fiercely protested and, in fact, resisted the idea on the ground that, to him, it was needless and that the national atmosphere then was inauspicious given that Abacha had started to oppress the people and even take MKO Abiola, the winner of the June 12 election, hostage.
But Ige would not be deterred. He alongside others went ahead to organise a fabulous ceremony appropriately tagged "Soyinka Festival" involving literary invocations. One of the highlights was the staging of the Yoruba translation of "Death and the King's Horseman". The play tells the story of a man who comes to ruin after trying to deny the legitimate expectations of the tradition of the community even after profiting from its sweet aspect. Indeed, nothing could have been more symbolic at a time that our own dark-goggled despot was working hard to deny the nation its own legitimate expectation of political freedom based on the sacred rite of June 12.
This writer, in fact, last year, had the opportunity of engaging the Cicero for upward of an hour in an interview. And four or five months ago, we had another encounter by proxy. The first was palatable and the second, unpalatable. For the latter resulted from an article I did on this page entitled "Come and Eat... (Then Explain)".
The first encounter was September 2000 and I think few days to the occasion of his 70th birthday. Our chairman, Mr. Nduka Obaigbena, had called him on phone to fix the interview. And it happened that it was a "rescue" initiative for the Saturday paper then for it had been a particularly "dry" week news-wise. So, when our chairman announced that the Cicero was willing to speak, I was too eager to go to Abuja to conduct the interview in the absence of Segun Adeniyi, the then editor of the Saturday paper (while I was the deputy). Actually, Segun was out of the country.
On the D-day- a Thursday, I think- I was in Abuja in the company of another colleague, Samuel Ajayi. Naturally, having been entirely devoted to this consuming Ige mystique for close to a decade as a political reporter, I came to the interview with some prejudice. This bias was partly caused by the reputation of Ige as one who would not hesitate to give a measure of his tongue to a reporter who asked sloppy questions.
The first trial when we arrived his office at the Justice Ministry in Abuja came too early. As soon as my complimentary card was passed to Dr. Olu Agunloye, his Personal Assistant, we were ushered into his office. Agunloye, the man with the smiling eyes behind round medical lenses, asked us to wait a while because Ige was presently at a departmental meeting. It turned out to be a long wait. Minutes rolled into hour, then the second hour, the third, the fourth... Continually, Agunloye came from the inner office to apologise profusely and assure that the meeting would soon end. As some point, I became so upset and was wondering how a "supposed departmental meeting" could last a whole day. By now, it was past 3 p.m. If we had another cover story ready in Lagos that day (being our production day), I doubt if I could have honestly waited that long.
Just when I was already boiling in anger, the inner door flung open, and I saw Ige walk over and watched him say politely "Ah, THISDAY man, I'm sorry about the delay". With that, we were ushered into his office. Funnily enough, my anger melted into admiration instantly. I was touched by his sense of simplicity and the almost paternal way he held our hands. His dress sense was also simple: buba and sokoto of milk-coloured brocade.
"How is Nduka (his pronunciation of the name had all the phonetical ceremony)?" He was referring to our chairman. To which we replied: "He's fine."
"You see," he continued as he settled into the couch, looking straight into my eye-balls "We're always proud of young and brilliant persons like you people." From the tone, he was not flattering us. I know when a thought is being expressed from the depth of sincerity. Generally, the man had this quick smile which substantially masked the fierceness of his convictions and belied the tenacity he normally brought to push the cause he believed in.
But Ige would not agree we rolled the tape-recorder yet until Agunloye was around. "Please let Olu be here so that I do not say things some may find offensive again."
From this, one could not help but begin to form another opinion about an aspect of the Ige mystique which tended to leave this picture of a careless talker or one who relished the obscene attention a controversial proclamation often brings. From what I could observe, he was referring to the tendency of some non-Yoruba political leaders to see him as one who never tired to make statements that hurt the sensibilities of others on the one hand and on the other, the existing feud within Afenifere which had pitted him against the likes of Chief Olu Falae and some Afenifere leaders.
The interview commenced as soon as Agunloye joined us with- I think- a pen and a jotter to take some personal notes. It was a no-holds-barred interview intended to celebrate the occasion of his 70th birthday. The questions ranged from the patronising ones to the nasty ones. We had asked him how it felt to be 70 and his response was that "To me there isn't much difference from the feelings I used to have and those I have now." To him, he said, age is a thing of the mind.
Again, we asked if there was an elaborate programme of events to mark the occasion to which he replied that it was going to be low-keyed. This, he said, was in solidarity with the people of Nigeria who had had to suffer a number of ethnic and religious violence. Indeed, year 2000 was characterised by a lot of blood-letting caused by ethno-religious clashes across the land. Again, he said he chose a low-keyed celebration because of his status as a public officer: "If I was not in government, then I probably would have had a small party where young people like you would be invited and I would call a good singer like 'Lagbaja' to come and sing.
"But since I'm in government, I am sure if I were to celebrate it big some people who ordinarily would not have come if I'm not in government would like to hijack the occasion for their own selfish reasons. And I do not want that."
When the atmosphere had gotten sufficiently convivial, I asked a somewhat naughty question: "Sir, a lot of people believe you are very arrogant in your utterances. What do you have to say?"
The Cicero didn't hit back as the stereotype would project. Calmly, he retorted that if telling the truth means being arrogant, then he had no apology. He made references to national leaders before him: "People also said that about my leader Chief Obafemi Awolowo. But he was undeterred. People said Azikwe was proud too. People also said that about Tafawa, the golden voice. He was not disturbed."
All in all, I left Ige's office that day with a deeper appreciation of his mystique. He struck me as a man of intense substance. He was regal in all respects without being snobbish. In his choice of words, he was cautious without being fearful. He was frank without being offensive. He radiated a mirth that was not make-believe. He was definitely not one of your run-of-the-mill politicians. He was an actor of a grand scale.
The second encounter was through Dr. Agunloye. The reports of the lodging of the NEPA vote in a bank account with a meagre interest had provoked this writer to write "Come and Eat...(Then Explain)". It was actually a parody of an earlier statement by the Cicero himself on the culture of some people going to government to "eat" rather than serve. In that piece, I tried to express dissatisfaction over the way and manner the NEPA money was handled.
On the day the article came out, the Cicero was in Europe. I learnt some-one called him from Nigeria to inform him that one rascally writer had attacked him at home that day. I should think the minister was able to read the piece on the web thereafter. Dr. Agunloye was later on phone that day to say that the minister felt I was not being fair. I tried to explain that I held the Cicero in high esteem and that whatever I wrote was not personal. Actually, such situations often pose a big dilemma to us as writers. For everyone knew that Ige was far too decent and far too contented to line his pocket with public fund or take undue advantage of his position for that matter. He was evidently a victim of circumstances and a casualty of this hideous creed of the public office which makes it possible for subordinates to invoke your name to get documents out or do things behind you and still make you liable when anything goes wrong. But beyond the expressions of anger, we all knew that Ige was innocent.
Ige certainly did not belong to the category of politicians who needed to spend money to win election. In his native South-West, elections are often won on your own personal integrity based on the perception of your past and not the bribe you offer people on the streets. In fact, some accounts have it that Ige had cause to lampoon one of the leaders of Alliance for Democracy in Edo state after the elections in 1999. While reviewing AD performance in Edo that year, Ige was said to have remarked in one of those their caucus meetings that "Can you imagine he (the said party leader) failed to deliever Edo in spite of the quarter of a million naira we gave him."
Elsewhere, such expectation that N250,000 could win a state election would have elicited dismissive laughter. But this clearly showed the tradition from which Ige came. It showed that Ige believed that personal integrity more than money should be the factor that wins election.
This is why I think Ige is an irreparable loss. That loss would be particularly felt in the South-West where he was evidently a folk hero. He was a true defender of the interest of his people. He had what not many had: charisma. At this juncture, saying nice things about him would not be enough. The Federal Government must bring the perpetrators of this dastardly act to book and soonest. As the local saying goes, these are beasts that have strayed from the wild forest into the community without tether around their necks. They need to be tamed. They need to be punished for that monumental act of wickedness. I share the opinion of those who say that in seeking these beasts, the dragnet should not be restricted to the anarchic political jungle which Osun State has turned in the last few weeks. Ige was a player that was bigger than Osun. Care should be taken to extend the search to other possibilities: be it business, social and even inside government. For, in his glorious run, the Cicero certainly stepped on many toes.
The killers must be found.
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