By Chris Iwarah
They came around almost in the same era. From the North to the South,
and across political dispensations, they bestrode the nation like
mythical figures. Related in many important respects, they however bore
individual uniqueness – from clothes to character – that conferred them
with individual identities.
They were men and woman, who dressed and talked with a touch of
charm. They were indeed a clan of colourful politicians and leaders.
They held the entire landscape spell-bound with their charisma,
oratorical prowess and deep political convictions. The nation took note,
they ruled their space, and the world gave them their place.
Beyond an unmatchable zeal to serve, they carried themselves with
such majestic dignity that made disciples of many who were ready to put
down their lives to save their political idols. Dr. Benjamin Nnamdi
Azikiwe, Nigeria’s first ceremonial president, was a distinguished
member of this distinguished tribe. Better addressed as “Zik of Africa”,
he was cosmopolitan in outlook, essentially gifted in matters of the
gab and pan-Nigerian in agenda. Wherever he lifted his foot, Zik
commanded attention.
As a first-class nationalist, Zik was a tireless bridge builder and
unity broker. He never demanded recognition; he earned it. He
transcended national politics to be enthroned an icon. He was the father
of post-independence Nigeria. A polyglot of the excellent stock, he was
famous for his uncanny ability to speak Igbo, Yoruba and Hausa. And
then, faultless English. Yet he was from a humble background. He was a
local boy transformed into a national figure.
He once was quoted as explaining his expansive view of Nigeria with
these words: “One important feature of my early boyhood days which has
had a decisive influence on my latter attitude towards human beings was
the cosmopolitan nature of my neighbourhood and school atmosphere…The
contacts made me to be more cosmopolitan and fraternal in human
relations.” Rather than allowing the odds of his environment influence
him, Zik decided to conquer his world and carve a niche for himself. In
an article in the West African Pilot in 1938, Zik did a review of his
affairs, submitting that he “always looked at most of my life’s problems
as problems which confront a miler in a mile race.”
And till he breathed his last, he never departed from this path.
Despite facing discouraging political setbacks, Azikiwe held on to his
hope of Nigeria becoming a great country someday. For the sake of seeing
this dream come to pass, he played politics, but stayed away from its
divisive nature. All he cared about in power was satisfying himself that
his contribution to the fight for freedom in Nigeria and Africa was not
in vain.
“As a young man,” he once revealed, “I saw visions: visions of
Nigeria becoming a great country in the emerging continent of Africa;
visions of Nigeria offering freedom to those in bondage, and securing
the democratic way of life to those who had been lulled into an illusion
of security under colonial rule….I trust that I shall dream my dreams
amid the peace and ever-increasing prosperity of the people of my native
Nigeria.
The motto of the independent federation of Nigeria is ‘Unity and
Faith’. I pray that we may guard our unity and keep our faith.” But he
was not a lonely traveller on this side of life. He had people like
Chief Obafemi Awolowo, first Premier of the Western Region, to “keep our
faith” with him. Though an undisguised believer in regionalism, the
cerebral Yoruba leader fondly called Awo eternally believed in the
eternal unity of Nigeria.
But to show that there was merit in his view that different parts of
the country possessed certain peculiarities that could easily stand
against a unitary strategy for the nation’s development, he devoted
himself entirely to the path of developing his Western Region. Today,
long after his transition, it is political capital in the South West to
make claims to being a student of the sage’s socio-political school of
thought.
While from the northern flank of the country, Prime Minister Abubakar
Tafawa Balewa’s first rule of political success was simplicity, Mallam
Aminu Kano was the renowned champion of Talakawa politics (pro-poor
agenda in politics). For Sir Ahmadu Bello, the late Sardauna of Sokoto,
politics was about colour, and huge following.
But, perhaps, nobody could speak the language of colour and
flamboyance in the political turf of First Republic Nigeria better than
the duo of Chief Festus Samuel Okotie-Eboh and Dr. Kingsley Ozumba
Mbadiwe. While Okotie-Eboh was the unbeatable bearer of the flag of
flamboyance with his trademark wrapper made to kiss the ground, Mbadiwe
was clearly unchallengeable in his mastery of bombastic comments as a
wordsmith par excellence.
Fondly called Omini Ejoh or Ejoh Bilela, Okotie-Eboh stood out with
his flowing wrappers and bowler hat. When he was assassinated, on
January 15, 1966, flamboyance in government was also killed and buried.
Whether it was on a matter they both agreed on or had reason to engage
in intellectual spar over, Okotie-Eboh and Mbadiwe just gave the
nation’s political universe its radiance. But it was their disagreements
that often made the nation’s day. One of such was when they disagreed
over matters of finance.
The encounter was captured in Augustus Adebayo’s book, Power in
Politics. “As minister”, the author had recounted, “he (Mbadiwe) had a
battle with the flamboyant Minister of Finance, Chief Festus
Okotie-Eboh, over foreign loans for sundry industries. All the federal
and regional ministers concerned went to meet Balewa who was on leave in
his native Bauchi. Mbadiwe was explaining the implication of the
proposal when Okotie-Eboh cut him short.
The Finance Minister described the Industry Minister as someone who
knew nothing about finance. Mbadiwe replied that he studied Money and
Finance in the United States, adding that he could lecture him on
finance for five years without opening any textbook.” Okoti-Eboh,
however, retorted: “We are talking about practical finance, he is
talking of his outdated schoolboy textbooks. Ignorant man like you.”
That tickled the fiery side of Mbadiwe, and he gave it back to
Okotie-Eboh: “Mr. Prime Minister, but for my respect for you, I will not
tolerate being insulted by illiterates (sic) who happen to stumble into
wealth”.
A veteran of many political wars, Mbadiwe never fired any gun – he
just cut down his opponents with his inimitable arms of words. At a
“world press conference” (he was in love with this term), Mbadiwe
informed the nation that he was marching against Zik, his former leader,
and Awo, whose former party, Action Group (AG), supported his rebellion
against Zik, when he formed the ill-fated Democratic Party of Nigeria
and Camerouns.
He explained that he was moving against them because they decided to
form an alliance, the Progressive Parties Alliance (PPA), to fight
Shagari in the 1983 presidential poll. When Anene Ugoani, the former
City Editor of Daily Times, asked why he was marching against the two
veteran politicians, the politician better known as “Man of Timber and
Calibre” or simply K.O., thundered: “I am really counter-marching their
earlier march.” Then, he dug into the belly of history, emerging with
what he tagged the evidence of how “the political philosophies of Zik
and Awo are as far apart as the North and South poles.” Suddenly, he
broke into tears.
When he eventually wiped his face, he did with an ultimatum to Zik to
“divorce Awo and return to base.” If Zik, the Owelle of Onitsha,
dismissed his counsel, he threatened to deploy his “troops”, under the
code name, “Operation Encirclement” to execute the order. He warned that
the operation would be fierce and ruthless as to be able to destroy
anything standing in their way. Then, he flowed in his best elements,
declaring: “When the come comes to become, you will know the physicality
of man.”
He was not done. He emphasised: “The issue of Zik and Awo political
alignment carries with it a signal for alarm and having tried for five
years silently to prevent Dr. Azikiwe from taking a course that will
bring disaster to the country, there is no alternative for me than to
alert the nation in the way of ultimatum”. Provoked by Mbadiwe’s
comments, Otunba Theophilus Owolabi Shobowale Benson, better known as
T.O.S. Benson, enlisted in the verbal war. Benson, an eminent lawyer and
former Minister of Information, Broadcasting and Culture, described him
as “a general without an army”.
Mbadiwe fired back, describing Benson as a “political mahogany”, a
phrase the media at that time interpreted to mean a “paperweight
politician.” Mbadiwe’s words could be politically venomous. His comments
were always a puzzle. And he was never apologetic for them. When he
contested the Orlu senatorial seat and lost to Dr. Emma Emeka, he
claimed he did not know the person he lost to. But when he was named
Special Adviser on National Assembly Matters to the President, he said
in allusion to that political defeat: “I lost the tail and won the head.
K.O is O.K.” Also, downplaying the significance of his loss of the vice
presidential ticket of his party to Dr. Alex Ekwueme, Mbadiwe said:
“What is the big thing in one being a repeater station to a major
station?” Again, drawing a new chart for the Igbo nation to be more
relevant in the political configuration of the country,
Mbadiwe insisted that there must be “handshake across the Niger.” In
his tribute to Mbadiwe, following his death on August 29, 1990, the late
Chief Emeka Odumegwu-Ojukwu, a great man of speech himself, stated: “KO
was grand, his actions grandiose, his speeches grandiloquent.” In the
Second Republic, the contributions of Alhaji Waziri Ibrahim were simply
fantastic. Were Mbadiwe to describe Ibrahim’s role in the era, he
certainly would have said it was “operation fantastic”. Ibrahim was a
devoted advocate of “politics without bitterness”. He was a candle that
supplied the Second Republic light. Former Senate President, the Dr.
Chuba Okadigbo, was a reincarnation of the flamboyance of Okotie-Eboh
and the oratorical process of Mbadiwe in the politics of this era.
Cerebral and urbane, the Oyi of Oyi was a superlative speechmaker.
His diction, dress sense and persona distinguished him. He was able
to move into the Fourth Republic, where he became Senate President, with
his charm intact. He brought elegance to the National Assembly. He
occupied the seat of the Senate President with majestic presence – to
the point that those who could not understand his make-up thought he was
proud. Like Mbadiwe, he seized every occasion to prove his mettle in
the coinage of words. Once describing the huge frame of former Senate
President and Secretary to the Government of the Federation, Pius Anyim,
Okadigbo called him a “a mass of platoplasm”. Alhaji Abubakar Rimi,
Second Republic governor of old Kano State, was another man of colour
that walked the land and got national attention. A man of easygoing
mien, Rimi created his own identity with his flowing agbada, proving he
was a stickler for principles.
The late Chief MKO Abiola, the acclaimed winner of the June 12, 1993
presidential election, was also a politician of special taste. He was
famous for combining politics with charity. A man of deep purse, the
huge campaign he mounted in his race for Aso Rock in 1993 is still a
reference point in the annals of politics in the country. If there was
anything he specially inherited from the late Chief Awolowo, it was the
sage’s knack for constructing timeless wise sayings. These were the
contributions that beautified Nigeria’s political past. But that could
only be the past. Now, it is uncommon to see politicians capable of
delivering “quotable quotes” and writing their names in the
consciousness of the people indelibly.
By all standards, Balarabe Musa, Second Republic Governor of Kaduna
State, is himself one of the few great politicians no one can afford to
forget – or even ignore. A Marxist in orientation, when the Kaduna Polo
Club invited Musa to come along with a mallet, he refused the invitation
and gave the mallet to a servant, saying: “I don’t play polo … It is
the game of the rich and powerful, of neo-colonialists.” But even as one
who is eminently qualified to speak on the politics and politicians of
Nigeria’s yesterday, he regrets that things are no longer what they used
to be. Making a comparison of the nation’s political past and present,
Musa aptly described the former as “a wonderful period of politics and
certainly incomparable in all circumstances to what is obtainable now.”
Even before he passed on, Okadigbo himself did not hide the fact that
he was displeased with the shallowness of the new-era politicians.
Wherever he went, the Oyi of Oyi was full of complaints that politics in
the country had become uninspiring and lacking in “profound
pronouncements and quotable quotes.” Clearly, Okadigbo could not have
been referring to people like Ambassador Babagana Kingibe, a giant in
eloquence and glamour in his own right, Jim Nwobodo, who draw attention
with his trademark French suits, Paul Unogo with his great hairstyle and
good dress sense. Okadigbo was not talking to the Ogbonnaya Onus, the
Tom Ikimis, the Maitama Sules, people who still hold their own wherever
and whenever duty calls.
The Wole Soyinkas, the Ben Nwabuezes, the Itse Sagays, the Ekwuemes,
among others, still stand like a colossus in their different areas of
interest – and they keep compelling the world to pay attention. But they
are all products of the old order. The challenge lies in kindling the
fire that made the past glamorous and enjoyable in the new generation of
politicians. But would the old era ever be re-enacted? Only time has
the answer.
TheSun