Lagos — As I tried to digest Chief Abiola's final words to me, I became very uncomfortable. The words hit me like thunderbolt I don't think Sani can try it, Chief Abiola, one of the nicest souls God ever created, had told me matter-of-factly. Those words kept me awake for long hours, until I finally knocked off to sleep. Even then I still felt some negative vibes in what should have been my deep slumber.

I woke up dying to know how the theatre of the absurd at Abiola's house had played itself out. So I drove furiously towards Ikeja. A news item in the day's Guardian Newspaper caught my attention. The newspaper, not known for frivolities, carried a stop press on what must have been its third edition, I believe. The news blew me out of my brain like a tornado. Sani Abacha had indeed surpassed himself by arresting a man who clearly won the best presidential election ever conducted in Nigeria. The newspaper did not elaborate much on what actually took place as the security agents sneaked in, like thieves in the night.

I was stupefied. But I headed straight to Abiola's house. The first thing I noticed was the absence of the huge crowd I saw the day before. My mind went back to the way events had unfolded at supersonic speed in the weeks gone by. One evening, we were in Nduka Obaigbena's house in Ikoyi with some guys from the American Embassy. As usual, there was a heated argument over how Abiola could regain his mandate. The Americans were vehemently of the opinion that Abiola should galvanize the struggle by offering himself for arrest. They studiously ignored the Nigerian factor, what I called the yungbayungba (the enjoyment galore) existence, which forbade our people from sustaining any struggle. I told the visitors who probably mistook Nigeria for America, that once Abiola makes the mistake of getting arrested, that would signal the death of the whole struggle.

Newspapers were awash with all manner of speculations two days after the arrest. Chief Abiola was said to have called the BBC News from his cell phone to describe his ordeal. There were also accounts of how he was first taken to the Alagbon Close detention centre, under the cover of darkness, and from there to the Lagos airport, where he was flown to an unknown destination in the Northern part of Nigeria. As I took in the different versions of the news, I engaged myself in a monologue. Could this be the same Abiola who had collected over 200 chieftaincy titles, and was turbaned, nationwide? The same Abiola that built Mosques, Churches, schools, libraries, water projects, industrial farmlands; and gave scholarships, without any discrimination? Could this be the same Abiola who was a friend of presidents, Lords and Royals? Could Sani Abacha really do this to a man whose house he had begged General Babangida to visit when Chief Abiola lost his wife, Ayinba Simbiat Atinuke, on November 10, 1992? Mohammed Abacha told me in an interview that his father was a great admirer of Abiola, and that Chief Abiola was one of the few people who could storm into their home without any prior appointment.

What went wrong and whose agenda was the military trying to enforce? Anyway, we eventually traced Chief Abiola to the bitterest desert village of Gashua, in the North East of Nigeria, where exists the worst prison, which was made famous by Chief Abdul-Ganiyu Oyesola Fawehinmi. Chief Abiola had managed to smuggle out several letters, one of which was sent through a sympathetic officer to his wife, Dr Doyinsola Hamidat Abiola. I cried as we read the content of his gory narration. In it, Chief Abiola had requested me to travel to Gashua to visit him and come along with a recorder and camera. He also suggested that I should wear a disguise. Dr Abiola asked if I was prepared to undertake the dangerous journey, and my answer was in the affirmative. We then plotted my movement. I was to fly to Maiduguri and from there drive to Damaturu, and then to Gashua Prison.

The next thing to determine was what type of disguise to wear. I settled for a Tiv outfit, and cap, which I borrowed from my friend, Kunle Bakare, now the publisher of Encomium magazine. I also had to explain my mission to my young wife who was naturally apprehensive for my safety. She was reasonable enough to know that we could not abandon Chief Abiola in his hour of desperate need. All set, I headed to the airport for the epic journey, bravely leaving my wife to wipe the tears in her eyes. For me, this was what loyalty was all about and I was very proud to have been asked by Chief Abiola to visit him, in the very first letter he sent from prison. It was the same way I felt, when I was arrested a few hours after I left Chief Abiola's house in July 1993, and was promptly put behind bars at Alagbon Close. Nothing could be sweeter than being counted on the right side of history and I regarded our tribulations as a rare privilege.

As I drove through Allen Avenue in Ikeja, Lagos, I decided to call Dr Abiola to inform her I was on my suicide mission. She thanked me and said she's been trying to locate me because she had gotten another signal from Gashua that Chief Abiola had been moved to yet to an undisclosed destination. I felt the world collapse at that moment. God, how could I miss such a great opportunity to witness history, by meeting privately with Africa's biggest prisoner of conscience at that time? I returned to my house a dejected man.

After that, one thing led to the other. Lawyers, and members of the civil society, were engaged in a flurry of activities. All kinds of theories were also propounded. There were those who suggested a full showdown with the military junta and those who advised a softer approach. What made matters worse was that many members of Chief Abiola's political party were already ensconced within the regime. And as the days raced by, the military junta became more desperate to fully entrench, and if possible, perpetuate itself in power. There were more than enough acolytes willing to do anything to acquire power and obscene wealth. But Nigeria was also a very complex society. As docile as we may seem, there are always some kamikaze fighters who are ready to do anything to rescue our dear country from the military advernturers.

There was a group that went by the name NADECO, which had been formed before Chief Abiola's arrest. It was composed of different and strange bedfellows, and I had accompanied Chief Abiola to their earliest meeting at the home of Major-General Robert Adeyinka Adebayo in Ikeja GRA. Some of the members included Pa Adekunle Ajasin, Chief Anthony Enahoro, Pa Abraham Adesanya, Pa Alfred Rewane (a patron who was later murdered in his bedroom in Lagos), Chief Ayo Adebanjo, Chief Bola Ige, Chief Olu Falae, Chief John Oyegun, Reverend Peter Obadan, Commodore Dan Suleiman, Admiral Ndubuisi Kanu, Lt.General Alani Ipoola Akinrinade, Chief Cornelius Adebayo, Dr Chukwuemeka Ezeife, Chief Olabiyi Durojaiye, Senator Bola Ahmed Tinubu, Chief Olusegun Osoba, Professor Bolaji Akinyemi, Honorable Wale Osun, Dr Amos Akingba, Chief Ralph Obiora, Bobo Nwosisi, Honorable Tokunbo Afikuyomi, and so many others.

At a stage, the prisons were filled to the brim with political detainees. The military government had become incurably paranoid, and it went on a rampage. No one was too big nor too small to be arrested. We had a long list of victims of military brutality and political oppression. At different times, most people were detained without trial. They included Alao Aka-Bashorun, Olu Falae, Olabiyi Durojaiye, Ademola Adeniji-Adele, Frederick Fasehun, Ken Saro-Wiwa and his Ogoni Rights crusaders, Kunle Ajibade, Frank Kokori, George Mba, Chris Anyanwu, Ben Charles Obi Jr., Osa Director, Olu Akerele, Olusegun Obasanjo, Shehu Musa Yar'Adua, Olisa Agbakoba, Babafemi Ojudu, Shehu Sani, Mrs Ladi Olorunyomi, Nduka Obaigbena, Moshood Fayemiwo, Beekololari Ransome-Kuti, Madam Muriel Nelson-Williams, Sabina Solayide Iluyomade, Caroline Embu, and many others.

The battle for Abiola's release, and the revalidation of the June 12 presidential election, was fought on many fronts. The first was legal. All manner of expert opinions were thrown up by various luminaries. They included G.O.K Ajayi, Gani Fawehinmi, F.R.A. Williams, Femi Falana (the youngest of them all, who suffered so many detention bouts), and others. There was the media war led by Tell, The News, Tempo, The Punch, Concord, The Guardian, and they were all ferociously damaged by the military junta. Journalists were arrested with impunity on trumped up charges. Their offices were shut down. The Concord never recovered till today. The Guardian almost perished, but for the resilience of its owners. Journalists had to dig trenches and operated from their bunkers like Saddam Hussein.

Africa's greatest writer and Nobel laureate, Wole Soyinka, led his own group, NALICON, with members drawn from his Pyrates Confraternity, otherwise known as the National Association of Seadogs, and others. The group was particularly effective in raising the bar of the struggle, because of its robust and aggressive outlook. Wole Soyinka succeeded in putting together the pirate radio station, Radio Democracy, also known as Radio Freedom, but changed later to Radio Kudirat in honour of the great amazon, Alhaja Kudirat Abiola who had fallen in the battle for her husband. Credit must go to Kayode Fayemi and Wole Soyinka's first son, Olaokun, and others who worked assiduously in ensuring the survival of the short wave radio. I would later run the Yoruba segment of the radio, which substantially had its base in Norway.

On a personal note, as one leader after the other fled into exile, I decided to team up with a few people on ground to carry on the struggle. For example, Prince Ademola Adeniji-Adele and I decided to take on the government by recording and releasing an inciting audio tape. We approached my close friend from our university days in Ile-Ife, Bisade Ologunde, the music genius and producer of Lagbaja, who even came up with the idea of lifting Abiola's voice from his past recordings and rearranging it on the computer in a manner that would suggest that he spoke from prison. I have never seen such commitment and creativity in my life. I wrote the script and sent to Lagbaja. He also composed some serious lyrics and produced some melodious tunes. One of the lyrics was:

"how dem go know

how dem go know

how dem go know so we dey suffer

Aso Rock different from Olumo "

The next challenge was how to get a recording studio to agree to mass-produce such dangerous tapes and we were targeting two thousand copies. We wanted a responsible organisation that would not blow our cover, and thus expose us to danger. This was when I approached the Juju music legend, Chief Commander Ebenezer Obey-Fabiyi through my good friend, Oluwarotimi Obey, his second son. I explained our mission to him. At first, he looked slightly worried and paused momentarily. He then responded: "That's ok. We must do everything to support Chief Abiola." We even got more than we needed, because what we wanted was for him to allow the use of his studio and we were ready to pay the fees quoted, but he turned the money from us. It was reassuring to meet such wonderful people who would not abandon friends in trouble

Pendulum By Dele Momodu