In this section of the second 100 pages of IBB’s book, the excitement continues to build up as the master story teller continues his recollections and reflections. Now, because his story is recent history, it is easy for us to evaluate it as we were not passive observers. We saw him in action, making big speeches, embarking on life transforming and country transforming decisions many of which were going to have a lifetime of ramifications.
We were enthused about his vision for a presidential form of government, especially to the end that he made the decision to call himself President instead of Head of State as no one elected him. In Psychology, such actions are attributed to ‘delusions of grandeur,’ but be that as it may, who was going to stop him?
He had the uniform. He had the charm. He had the swag with his bounce. He had the guns.
Upon assumption of office, he quickly embarked on a charm offensive. He released the Journalists, Nduka Irabor and Tunde Thompson. These two had been jailed under Buhari’s much derided Decree 4. This decree was probably the biggest factor responsible for the hatred the people bore for Buhari despite the people’s appreciation of the introduction of discipline to society with his WAI, (War against indiscipline) campaign.
IBB made that very clear in his first speech in order to get to the souls of the people. He makes that point in a solid way.
As part of his continuing charm
offensive, he set up a committee to review the excessive jail sentences that had been imposed on the political class from the Shagari government by largely Kangaroo Tribunals. Here, he draws the distinction, (which you have got to love), between principles of legal Justice and natural or social Justice.
The part of IBB as showman was on full display on Independence Day in 1985 at the parade at TBS when he shunned the umbrella to preside over a parade under the rain.
That was cool to watch. That he recalls it in his own book however, speaks to a certain level of vanity. Someone else should be saying that about him, and not he about himself.
He goes on to delve into political philosophy. Here, he wears the garb of a political philosopher. Reading this portion conveys to the reader, a man who appeared to have been prepared for the job he got himself in August 1985 when he and his boys overthrew the government of Buhari while his deputy, a much admired General Idiagbon was deceived and packaged to go to Mecca as a guest of the King of Saudi Arabia. It was a clever move. The coup would probably have been bloody had Idiagbon been in the country. He was a soldier’s soldier, a man known for his disdain of opulence and embrace of simplicity. He wore his love for discipline and uprightness on his sleeve. He sought to make that the national standard. He tried.
The argument can be made therefore that while Nigeria under Buhari-Idiagbon may have begun the task of reorienting the minds of the average Nigerian citizen about the need for us “to live within our means,” the IBB playbook was more of ‘freedom’ to do as you please. I believe that he was trying out a playbook from 17th century France with Laissez Faire economics but without the accompanying production endeavors which made that theory hugely successful in France of that era.
In embarking upon his reforms, he sent the country on an impossible errand. In Yoruba language, the child is sent to the market “ko lo gba arodán wa.” That child is going to stay in the market looking for ‘arodán for a long time. The English call it a “Fool’s errand.”
How do you get over 100 million people to debate the merits and demerits of taking an IMF loan? Without a referendum, how did he come to the conclusion that the overall opinion or tendency was one way and not the other? How many beer parlor conversations did his government monitor? How many ordinary folks had access to Radio which was 100 percent government owned and controlled in 1985? How many ordinary folks who would eventually bear the brunt of his reform program had access to write articles in major newspapers or debate the issues on national television which was also 100 percent government owned and controlled at the time? Essentially therefore, his call to debate the issues amounted to nothing in real terms except that it mimicked the Yoruba adage where a child is sent to the market to get “arodán.”
He fooled the entire nation.
Thus began the process that would eventually lead the Nigerian Press to nickname him Maradona—a dribbler.
And so, after all the noise, he made the decision by himself, to embark on a Structural Adjustment Program which by the time the effects began to bite, led to great suffering as people lost their jobs, and families crumbled under the weight of inflation in an increasingly desperate economy which appeared to have no direction.
The JAPA syndrome took firm root during this period of intense hardship.
For those of us who were here to witness SAP, that era is better forgotten. The bottom line is that we survived. Many did not make it. The question that is to be asked about that period of suffering therefore arises out of his assertion in his book that the program grew a new class of rich people.
How did they become rich?
Did their riches come from production or from preferential issuance of import licenses, waivers and other backroom deals which were not made available to the ordinary Nigerian who was asked to debate an issue that appeared to have already been decided before the debate began?
Or were these new rich simply smarter than the rest of us?
We must however give IBB the benefit of the doubt here. He acknowledged that his SAP reforms brought great suffering but also goes on to assert that many of the Post-SAP reforms his government came up with to mitigate the effects of SAP would never have happened without SAP.
This argument is akin to a corporation that exposes its employees to disease and then turns around to create a cure for the disease which could have been prevented in the first place.
It is therefore hard to applaud him for the ‘nice’ things his government did after SAP.
He gives himself a big pat on the back for intervention entities like NDIC, OMPADEC, NERFUND, DFFRI, NDE, People’s Bank, etc.
Can we deny him that?
Down the road, he speaks effusively about the deregulation of Banking and Broadcasting. 1992 was a great year for deregulation in the IBB universe of reforms. I was hoping he would remember his great speech at the time on television when he said—“Let a thousand flowers bloom!”
How could he not? He recalls it with glee in his book.
We must applaud him for that part.
Good job, General—Mr. President. Credit must be given to whom credit is due.
The other part of these 100 pages has to do with the projection of Nigeria as a global power, how be it, on a continental scale. Intervention in Liberia was one of those. The Nigerian public did not see much benefit in putting out fires in another country while we dealt with issues of grave injustice in Zango-Kataf right under his nose. This hypocrisy was pointed out by the vibrant Nigerian Press at the time.
The next 100 pages promise to be hot as we look forward to the author answering some long-standing questions that have defied answers.
As for what one has read thus far, we must commend the General for the courage to write a book.
Ooops!!!! I spotted two errors. He wrote the date of Murtala’s assassination as January 13th instead of February 13th. Also on page 190, he uses the word born instead of borne. I hope this is corrected in subsequent editions.
O’meekey O. Ovienmhada.
