There Was a Country: A Memoir

  Ironically, and to the consternation of Lord Wilson and the British cabinet in England, the Enterprises Promotion Decree of 1974 also meant that the British/Dutch conglomerate Royal Dutch/Shell BP and other holdings valued at $720 million at the time, would have to share ownership of oil investments with the federal government—the very development Wilson was trying to avoid by backing Gowon in the first place.8

  For those who would defend Gowon’s cabinet, suggesting that at times of war measures of all kinds are taken to ensure victory, I will counter by stating that the Geneva Conventions were instituted after the Holocaust to make sure that human rights are still protected in times of conflict.

  There are many international observers who believe that Gowon’s actions after the war were magnanimous and laudable.9 There are tons of treatises that talk about how the Igbo were wonderfully integrated into Nigeria. Well, I have news for them: The Igbo were not and continue not to be reintegrated into Nigeria, one of the main reasons for the country’s continued backwardness, in my estimation.10

  Borrowing a large leaf from the American Marshal Plan that followed World War II and resulted in the reconstruction of Europe, the federal government of Nigeria launched an elaborate scheme highlighted by three Rs—for Reconstruction, Rehabilitation, and Reconciliation. The only difference is that, unlike the Americans who actually carried out all three prongs of the strategy, Nigeria’s federal government did not. The administrator of East Central state, Mr. Ukpabi Asika, announced that Eastern Nigeria required close to half a billion pounds to complete the reconstruction effort. None of us recall that he received anything close to a fraction of the request.

  What has consistently escaped most Nigerians in this entire travesty is the fact that mediocrity destroys the very fabric of a country as surely as a war—ushering in all sorts of banality, ineptitude, corruption, and debauchery. Nations enshrine mediocrity as their modus operandi, and create the fertile ground for the rise of tyrants and other base elements of the society, by silently assenting to the dismantling of systems of excellence because they do not immediately benefit one specific ethnic, racial, political, or special-interest group. That, in my humble opinion, is precisely where Nigeria finds itself today!

  Gowon Responds

  To get General Gowon’s point of view on a number of the same questions that I have raised in this section of this book, I asked the eminent journalist and writer Pini Jason to interview the former Nigerian head of state. A portion of the interview is reproduced here:

  PINI JASON: The Igbo still believe that they are being punished because of the civil war. The Indigenization Decree is an [action], they point out, that was taken when the group was economically weakened and thus, as it were, kept them out of playing a role in the economy. They still feel they are being punished because of the civil war.

  GOWON: It is a pity that they think this way. The Indigenization Decree—I think it was 1972 or ’73—that decree was really to ensure the participation of every part of the country, unlike the privatization policy now in place. Businesses are indigenized within one’s own area—in the North, in the East, in the West, etc. And who are the beneficiaries in those areas? It is mostly the people native to the particular area. And I am sure that by 1972, many Igbo had recovered sufficiently enough to participate, not only in their own area, but also in Lagos. You tell me, who owns most of Lagos?

  PINI JASON (CUTTING IN): Two years with twenty pounds; the Igbo were still trying to find their feet! They were in no position to buy into any company!

  GOWON: No. Remember, what was being indigenized before it was speeded up were some of the small Lebanese businesses, like textile stores, in which, in any case, the Igbo were very well established, yesterday, today, and even tomorrow. Probably in Lagos, they were not able to buy into as many such businesses as they would have desired. Otherwise, certainly I know that by 1972 there was sufficient recovery enabling the Igbo to participate. Now the incident of twenty pounds that you refer to was enforced immediately at the end of the war. Because your economic gurus will tell you that because of your economic value, you cannot exchange the Biafran note; what is it called?

  PINI JASON: The Biafran pound.

  GOWON: Is it the Biafran pound? But now, I am told that it is selling like hotcake! I am told that it is being used especially in the West Coast! So I said, Well, you see the ingenuity of the Igbo man? [General laughter] People say it is even more valuable than the naira!

  PINI JASON: Maybe as a collector’s item!

  GOWON: But there it is! No. I think the policy of twenty pounds was never an attempt to impoverish the Igbo people. The government was very generous in giving funds to Ukpabi Asika so that the government of the East could circulate money and get businesses off the ground, as well as [to] embark on various rehabilitations and reconstructions that were taking place. Probably the exchange rate in Nigerian currency for the Biafran pound seemed not to be on equitable terms. If we said they could exchange at par . . .

  PINI JASON (CUTTING IN): I would have been a millionaire!

  GOWON: You’re telling me! [General laughter] And probably bought off the rest of the country! That was not the policy of indigenization. It was meant to help. For example, the government was able to provide Asika with funds so that people could get Nigerian currency even as a loan. It was probably some of the bigger businesses indigenized later that you are talking about, but that occurred only after my overthrow. The government of Obasanjo, I think between 1975 and ’79, speeded up taking over some of the big businesses, especially in Lagos, which was to the advantage of his people, because they were the ones on the spot, and a lot of their people were in the banks and knew how to use the banks to give loans to their own people to buy some of these things. But this was not the case in other parts of the country. So when it comes to that, you can rest assured that it was not only the Igbo that felt left out; other parts of the country that were not as well positioned as the people from the West felt the same way.

  PINI JASON: Another issue was that of abandoned property, especially in Rivers state, and the context in which your government allowed some property belonging to the Igbo to be taken over. The case was made by the new Rivers state government that its people were like tenants in their own state. After you left office it became clear that several individuals actively exploited the issue, buying up former Igbo-owned property and using these properties as collaterals for business ventures, often obtaining loans from banks controlled by certain people with anti-Igbo sentiments. Many blamed [this] series of developments around abandoned property on you. What is your reaction?

  GOWON: There was no doubt that it was a very knotty issue. I think there should have been justice and fair play. And as far as I was concerned, although pressure was being brought by the governor and the government of Rivers state at the time, my position was, if any property was to be taken for the use of the government, it had to pay proper compensation. And true enough, I think at the time, there were many Igbo who wanted to sell their property. Therefore, there was hardly any problem from that point of view. But I know that later the Rivers state indigenes themselves became fully involved, and virtually pressurized the subsequent government.

  I think, honestly, that a lot of the damage was not done during our time. At least, we were keeping it under control, and working hard to ensure that there was justice. Since it was one Nigeria, we must allow people who wanted to come back to at least come back to their business and properties. But I know that quite a lot of this did not happen subsequently, and it left a very bad feeling that, as you said, the Igbo were being penalized because of the war. I am not sure of what really happened at that time, since I was away from the country. But I know that my effort was not to deprive people of their property. Those who wanted to sell did so at the market price at the time. But those properties the government wanted for their use, it was to pay the economic r
ate at the time. Of course, policies changed thereafter.1

  Nigeria’s Painful Transitions: A Reappraisal

  The post Nigeria-Biafra civil war era saw a “unified” Nigeria saddled with a greater and more insidious reality. We were plagued by a homegrown enemy: the political ineptitude, mediocrity, indiscipline, ethnic bigotry, and corruption of the ruling class. Compounding the situation was the fact that Nigeria was now awash in oil-boom petrodollars, and to make matters even worse, the country’s young, affable, military head of state, General Yakubu Gowon, ever so cocksure following his victory, proclaimed to the entire planet that Nigeria had more money than it knew what to do with. A new era of great decadence and decline was born. It continues to this day.

  At this point, the intellectuals, particularly the writers, were faced with a conundrum. We could no longer pass off this present problem simply to our complicated past and the cold war raging in the background, however significant these factors were. We could not absolve ourselves from the need to take hold of the events of the day and say, Okay, we have had a difficult past. . . . From today, this is the program we have; let’s look at what we have not done. Of course, putting it this dramatically makes the matter appear simple.

  However, it became crystal clear that we needed to fight this new enemy with everything at our disposal. Most important, Nigeria needed to identify the right leader with the right kind of character, education, and background. Someone who would understand what was at stake—where Africa had been, and where it needed to go. For the second time in our short history we had to face the disturbing fact that Nigeria needed to liberate itself anew, this time not from a foreign power but from our own corrupt, inept brothers and sisters!

  After waiting around a while and determining that no messiah was about to come down and save the day, some of us joined the political process. I joined the left-of-center Peoples Redemption Party and was appointed its deputy national president. The goal of being an active participant in Nigerian politics would be to elevate the national discourse to a level that stirred up the pot, if you like, and got Nigerians to begin to ask critical questions about their future, such as: How can the country conduct free and fair elections? How can we elect the right kind of leaders and ensure that they will keep to the tenure that was agreed upon? How do we ensure that our leaders don’t double their tenure, or even change it into a dynasty to hand over to their sons?

  My sojourn in politics was marked by disappointment, frustration, and the realization that despite the fact that there were a few upright political figures like Mallam Aminu Kano, the vast majority of the characters I encountered in the political circles were there for their own selfish advancement. Having grand ideas was fine, but their execution required a strong leader. And clearly, Nigeria’s principal problem was identifying and putting in place that elusive leader.

  —

  That road to a remedy of Nigeria’s political problems will not come easily. The key, as I see it, lies in the manner in which the leadership of the country is selected. When I refer to leadership I am really talking about leaders at every level of government and sphere of society, from the local government council and governors right up to the presidency. What I am calling for is for Nigeria to develop a version of campaign election and campaign finance reform, so that the country can transform its political system from the grassroots level right through to the national party structures at the federal level.

  Nigerians will have to find a way to do away with the present system of godfatherism—an archaic, corrupt practice in which individuals with lots of money and time to spare (many of them half-baked, poorly educated thugs) sponsor their chosen candidates and push them right through to the desired political position, bribing, threatening, and, on occasion, murdering any opposition in the process. We will have to make sure that the electoral body overseeing elections is run by widely respected and competent officials chosen by a nonpartisan group free of governmental influence or interference. Finally, we have to find a way to open up the political process to every Nigerian citizen. Today we have a system where only those individuals with the means of capital and who can both pay the exorbitant application fee and fund a political campaign can vie for the presidency. It would not surprise any close observer to discover that in this inane system, the same unsavory characters who have destroyed the country and looted the treasury and the nation blind are the ones able to run for the presidency!

  The question of choice in selecting a leader in Nigeria is often an academic exercise, due to the election rigging, violence, and intimidation of the general public, particularly by those in power, but also by those with the means—the rich and influential. There is also the unpleasant factor of the violence associated with partisan politics that is often designed to keep balanced, well-educated, fair-minded Nigerians away. So it can be said that the masses—the followership we are concerned about—don’t really have a choice of leadership, because there’s not a true democratic process.1

  It may appear impossible now to rectify, because we’ve allowed this situation of confusion to go on since our independence. It has been growing steadily worse . . . and it accelerated particularly under the military, when there was a near total denial of the democratic rights of the people. The general knowledge that a people have, for example, inalienable rights is simply something advanced societies take for granted, because they have fostered stable democracies now for some time. I am asked, “Why don’t the people fight back?” Well, once a people have been dispossessed and subjugated by dictatorships for such a long time as in Nigeria’s case, the oppressive process also effectively strips away from the minds of the people the knowledge that they have rights. Restoring flawed democratic systems will not make the country a success overnight.

  —

  The Igbo are a very democratic people. The Igbo people expressed a strong antimonarchy sentiment—Ezebuilo—which literally means, a king is an enemy. Their culture illustrates a clear-cut opposition to kings, because, I think, the Igbo people had seen what the uncontrolled power of kings could do. There is no doubt that in their history they experienced the high-handedness of kings, so they decided that a king cannot be a trusted friend of the people without checks and balances. And they tried to construct all kinds of arrangements to whittle down the menace of those with the will to power, because such people are there in large numbers in every society. So the Igbo created all kinds of titles that cost much to acquire. Aspirants to titles, in the end, become impoverished in the process and end up with very little. So that individual begins again, and by the time his life is over, he has a lot of prestige but very little power.

  Democracy is the very antithesis of military or absolutist rule. And democracy is not a fancy word; it is something that is full of meaning, even in our ancient African cultures. Dictatorships by their very nature concentrate power and the resources of the state in the hands of a very few people (or, as we have seen in Africa, in one person’s hands). Dictators hang on to power by resorting to tactics designed to keep the mass of the people silent and docile. Dictatorships that have used violence, murder, and bribery, and psychological, financial, and social intimidation to force the opposition into perpetual retreat are many and widespread.2

  This is not a time to bemoan all the challenges ahead. It is a time to work at developing, nurturing, sustaining, and protecting democracy and democratic institutions. Winston Churchill perceptively said, “Democracy is the worst form of government, except for all those other forms that have been tried from time to time.”3 We have to go by that wisdom. Therein lies an opportunity for Great Britain, America, and the West to be involved positively in African affairs, this time not by imposing themselves or their self-selected rulers on a desperate continent but by aiding African nations in their struggles to become viable democracies.

  We also realize that we must learn patience and not expect instant miracles. Building a nat
ion is not something a people does in one regime, or even in a few years; it’s a very long process. The Chinese had their chance to emerge as the leading nation in the world in the Middle Ages but were consumed by inter-ethnic political posturing and wars and had to wait another five hundred years for another chance!

  Another crucial ingredient in sustaining a democracy is the ability to stage free and fair elections. The last general election in Nigeria was not perfect, but overall it was an improvement over past travesties that were passed off as elections in Nigeria. The Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC), Chairman (and professor) Attahiru Muhammadu Jega, and his team should be allowed to build upon the gains of that exercise for the good of the nation.

  —

  I think it is important to discuss some real events that occurred during Nigeria’s Fourth Republic (circa 2004), during which the very opposite of the democratic ideal was at work. Anambra state, the past home of several venerated Nigerians, such as Nnamdi Azikiwe, the Okigbo brothers—Pius and Christopher—Kenneth Dike, and others—was literally and figuratively on fire. There was a succession of events during a tussle for political power that resulted in renegades arresting a sitting governor and buildings being looted and government property ransacked and burned to the ground by hoodlums—those infamous rent-a-crowd hooligans at the beck and call of corrupt politicians with plenty of money and very low IQs.

  What seemed almost incredible to me was that it was clear from all accounts that the presidency was behind the chaos in the state—was encouraging the destabilization of the government of Anambra state as well as encouraging a small group of people whose sole interest seemed to be in getting their hands on the financial allocation made to the state. In other words, to use the money that was intended for work on the state for their own private ends—and that these were friends of the president.