What we planned against “Double Chief” was a subtle coup to correct the opportunistic privileges that were causing divisiveness among the Correspondents. Like some humans in such exalted position, “Double Chief” enjoyed being regaled with flattery and whoever savours this, will see no evil in gossiping. Exploiting this weakness, some correspondents turned his office to gossip centre and hardly sat with us in the Press centre. All they wanted was to be put on presidential trips, particularly foreign trips that would fetch them dollar tips. Four months after my arrival in Dodan Barracks, precisely, May 1988, I didn’t know what they told him about me but he sent for me. When I got to his office, I wore a hard face because I had noticed that he didn’t like people with unfriendly disposition. I deliberately wanted to appear as one. I didn’t even care if he was the one that accredited me or not. Accreditation of journalists in Dodan Barracks was an official assignment not a personal task of geniality. My accreditation was not a favour, it was a duty. My strategy worked. The moment he saw that my face was weird, he talked to me like a gentleman that I was. First, he discussed my Oga with me. According to him, he had a very good social relationship with Chris Okolie, the only problem he had with him was about professionalism. He said so many things about him but I was just shaking my head. Surprisingly, he didn’t run him down as such. He only wanted him to review his professional operations this time around. I understood what he meant by “this time around”. Newbreed was not a new newsmagazine in Nigeria. It was established in 1972 but was proscribed by the Obasanjo military administration in 1978 for certain professional infractions and violations. So, this was its second debut on the newsstand. I had spent almost 15 minutes in his office and he didn’t ask me to sit. I was about saying it (in my mind, of course,) that this man is an oppressor when he gave me the good news he called me for. “You will be going with the President to Bauchi next month (June). You will be in the advance team”, he said. I quickly changed my countenance towards him and I said “What a nice man”.
“You can sit”, he instructed. I sat down to hear more about the trip but against all expectations, he inquired:”Since you joined us some months ago, what have you noticed or observed”. I told myself, this is the beginning of my own gossip session. I equally warned myself: ” Mind what you say. He who gives can still take”. This was really looking like a gossip initiation ritual and I have got to say something. I asked myself: “Should I join the praise singers or the mockers’ choir”. I decided to tell him this: “Until you told me today that I would be going to Bauchi with the President next month, I observed that only the correspondents working in government media were always selected for most of the trips, local and foreign…..” He didn’t allow me to finish before he responded: “It is a standard procedure for government media to project government programmes, activities and functions. I must first take care of government interest before any other interest. Because of limited spaces, those of you in private media organizations are accommodated in batches. Any other thing?” In order not to recline into sycophancy, I quickly excused myself by saying :”Nothing Sir”.
I would call myself the first rebel. My friend, Segun Fatuase of The Punch was my assistant. As soon as I got back to the Press centre, his first question was: ” Ogbeni, are we on course?” He wanted to know if our “coup” was still on because he didn’t understand what I was doing in the CPS office for almost an hour plus. I told him that we were on course but that there would be some modification of terms. It would no longer be called a coup, it would now be called a “Plan”. He knew instantly that this moderation of position and modification of terms was not from the blue. He wanted to know what I discussed with “Double Chief”.
I brushed that aside by telling him that I no longer felt comfortable with the word “coup” because of the environment we were in. We cannot be in an environment like Dodan Barracks without minding our language. It was sheer linguistic infradig to be calling a mere private agenda a “coup”. Ours was a methodological outline on how to achieve professional cohesion amidst divisive extravaganza. But coup connotes regime change. Though our plan would eventually lead to regime change, it wouldn’t come through any forceful means. What were the details of our “Plan”?
1. We wanted to put an to end to the discordancy in the Press Centre.
2. We wanted more slots for private media in the President’s trips.
3. We had to device a means to stop or check unofficial movements to the office of “Double Chief” as a way of curbing gossiping.
4. To be able to achieve these goals, we needed to wrest power from Nkem Agetua of the New Nigerian in the next election. Though I had not arrived in Dodan Barracks when Agetua became the Chairman of the Dodan Barracks Press Corps, I was told that he was imposed on the correspondents by “Double Chief”.
Agetua, a very jolly good fellow and a good friend of mine, had hinted me that he was not interested in seeking a re-election. This was good for me and my group. It made it so easy for me to go on with my plan. The rebels in my group and our supporters were: Segun Fatuase, Fola Omololu, Kelechi Onyemaobi, Mikhail Mumuni, Chris Ochiama, Ade Obisesan, Sola Atere, Bosco Ikeakanam, Muhammed Baba, Goke Awoyode, Tokunbo Oloruntola, Kunle Sanyaolu, Yinka Dagunduro. Photographers: Ayo Areeson, Chris Ojokolo, Jimmy Adefolalu, Okon Ibanga and so many more. If you call me the Chief rebel, you may be right. The Inspiration to ease the tension that was always in the Press centre and slacken its restrictive psychology came from the quest for professional conviviality. The whole place was too militarised and that should not be. We arrived at the conclusion that being the Chief Press Secretary to the President, Chief Onabule wouldn’t like our reform and may see it as a challenge to his authority. I was unmoved by this sentiment. I like operating in a free and friendly atmosphere. This has been my style since my primary school days. So, Bauchi trip notwithstanding, I must forge unity in the Press centre. To do this, I must be in control of the Press Corps. However, I had been told, that by Convention or practice, only Correspondents from the government media could contest for Chairmanship position but other positions were open. That was no problem for me. I had my strategy. In less than five months of coming to Dodan Barracks, I had become everybody’s friend and a popular “Jingo” with all the correspondents including the photographers. Strategically, I would say we were on course for the execution of the Plan.
From 18 to 28 June 1988, I travelled with the President to Bauchi on a State visit. Needless to say that it was my first time of enjoying the privilege of moving around with the President of the Country. My trip was one of the rarest and the longest in the history of presidential trips in Dodan Barracks. Astonishingly, I was in the advance team meaning we went to Bauchi three days ahead of the President. To be in the advance team was financially rewarding because it meant that you would collect more money than those who flew with the President. However, to fly with the President was very prestigious. You would fly in his jet and you might be lucky to have conversation with him because Babangida loved chatting with those who flew with him in his Presidential jet.
We were lodged in Zaranda Hotel. For the three days we spent before the President arrived, the State government unleashed a very lavish hospitality on us being its guests and as aides of the President. We were well taken care of in all departments of human socialization and culinary assortment as we kept traversing local frontiers hunting for every consumable “entity” within Bauchi’s locality. But for self-restraint, I would have ventured into “interstate matrimony” as a symbol of heightened rhapsody and flenjoring ecstasy. By the time President Ibrahim Babangida arrived, those of us in the advance team had done sufficient publicity in the State for his coming with our “smoky rendezvous”. Some nasty guys would say “they have painted the town red”. I was never a good painter, so, let me simply just acknowledge that we got to know the town, or better still, the town got to know us.
Bauchi, during the time of Major General Chris Abutu Garuba, was a social hub. It was not the kind of State you visit in a hurry if you really wanted to explore and enjoy the potential of its “Eve(ly)demographic. I was therefore not surprised that the President who was scheduled to spend only four days in the State decided to extend his visit to the State by extra three days making it one of the longest State visits that Babangida undertook during his administration. The socio-cultural architecture of Bauchi was too mesmerising to devour in a jiffy. I was made to understand that as a matter of protocol, the host military governor must ensure that a visiting C-in-C had a taste of every sweet endowment of the State including its “women”, ah, sorry, human resources. As he did that, my own stay in Bauchi was impliedly extended to ten days overall. This meant that in terms of estacode and other codes, my trip to Bauchi and my stay in Bauchi for ten days was adequate to compensate for the five months that I was in limbo. Most of the local trips Babangida embarked upon did not go beyond 4/5 days max. It was indeed a rare privilege for me to enjoy the benefaction of a military dictator. However, our plan was still on course. GOD forbid that I should be the one that would allow the fantasy of 10 days to overwhelm my vision for fraternal communality.
Immediately I returned to Lagos, I visited my PG Hall family members (including Bola Obi) most of whom were rounding off their two-year graduate programmes. By the way, it was strange that in both Newbreed and Dodan Barracks, there was no Bola. It was my first time in recent years that I would be experiencing “Bola scarcity”. This gave Bola Obi an unrivalled status. Gradually, we were moving towards paradisal matrimony with a fragile and minimal commitment but definitely with no date in sight for ultimate consummation. In continuation of our formal interactive programme with family members, I took her to the Adedirans for preliminary assessment that would guarantee her a direct entry into conjugal finale. Though she had gone with me to Surulere during our NYSC days and I had followed her to Ibadan, this was exclusively for my Ife family. I already discussed our coming with Dr.and Mrs Adediran, so, they were expecting us.
The moment we entered the house, the smiles on the faces of everybody in the house, including little Ayomide, were very betraying. I was expecting them to pretend as if the assessment was real but they made it look as if I brought her for introduction. Seeing everybody smiling, she concluded that it was a done deal whereas that was not my plan. I wanted to set everything up like an uphill task. Before we could sit , food was already being served. Pray, should this be the way to do marital assessment? Why should a wife-to-be go through a screening assessment over assorted menu like amala, ewedu and bush meat which cooking she never participated in? The Adedirans with their hospitality had turned assessment visitation to preliminary introduction. There was no doubt, at the end of the visit, that it was a done deal. The tree of commitment was growing taller and bigger with wedding bells ringing alarmingly.
Back in Dodan Barracks where a domestic bicker between Babangida and Maryam, his wife, was snowballing into a national crisis. It was a well known fact that Maryam loved glamour and cuddled power. She commanded national respect with her distinctive aura . Her beauty was an endowment she carried with superlative gaiety. In most of her outings, she was always the cynosure of all eyes that knew what was nice. Even in a simple native attire, Maryam’s charisma glowed like the radiance of the queen of Tyre but she was not as wicked as the people of Tyre. She was a sweet woman who adored her husband but her major weakness was her love for power. She craved for power in a way that infuriated her husband. Her unlimited desire for personal attention was worryingly causing national tension. She was indeed nature’s special creation. Her husband prided himself as an “Evil Genius” without acknowledging the fact that his wife was also an “Eve(n) Genius”. Both “Evil and Eve(n) Geniuses” were the actors in a national drama that premiered during the independence anniversary of October 1988.
Here is the narrative of the epochal drama. The arrangements made for the national anniversary celebration in Abuja by government’s protocol officials were marred by power politics between the First Lady and the military top hierarchy. The programme details showed that Maryam Babangida would arrive the parade ground five minutes after the Chief of General Staff, Vice Admiral Augustus Aikhomu. But this did not happen because Babangida came under intense pressure from the military not to go ahead with the arrangements which would have subordinated a high ranking member of the Armed Forces Ruling Council (AFRC) to the wife of the President. If the wife of the President was to arrive the parade ground after the CGS, it meant that the CGS, the number two man in the government, would have to go and receive her on arrival. Being purely a military event, this was considered a breach of military protocol, short of saying it was a disgrace to the Naval top echelon for the CGS to go and receive a “Bloody civilian” irrespective of her marriage to the sitting President.That was the protest. This resonated with the President who decided to arrive the parade ground together with his wife. But Maryam Babangida was furious with this change and decided not to go to Abuja let alone the parade ground. This minor disagreement took the President several hours to pacify his wife yet she refused to travel to Abuja with him. The advance team of the First Lady, who were already waiting for her in Abuja, were shocked to discover that their Principal did not come with the President on Friday night, 30 September 1988.
Before the arrival of the President, the CGS was visibly worried that the President who was supposed to be at the Command performance by 7 pm was yet to leave Lagos for the Presidential villa in Abuja. He kept making phone calls from his own official residence, Àgùdà House, to be sure the President would still be coming to Abuja. At exactly 7 pm when all his efforts were rebuffed and the fact that the President refused to speak to him directly, Aikhomu led other Service Chiefs like Gen.Sani Abacha, IGP Muhammadu Gambo, Gen Domkat Bali and other top military officers to represent the President at the Command performance. But while they were enjoying the jokes of Chief Zebrudaya and Gringory, Babangida sneaked into Abuja under the cover of darkness. He was escorted to his Villa from the Airport by an unusually large number of the Israeli-trained Presidential Bodyguards (PBG) with utmost secrecy without the traditional blaring of sirens. None of the Service Chiefs at the Command performance knew he was still coming that night. Also, all the policemen positioned at strategic places since morning had been withdrawn when it looked to them that the President was no longer coming to Abuja on that very day. All the protocol officers, anniversary coordinators including Col. John Shagaya, the Chief host and journalists who had gone to the airport at 3 pm to welcome the President had also left the airport around 8 pm when they had lost all hope of the President arriving that day.
When the Service Chiefs at the venue of the Command performance got to know that the President was in Abuja, they didn’t make any attempt to leave for the airport so that their hurried departure would not cause unnecessary disruption at the show. This was just a piece of the actions that normally shaped government policies or heated up government politics .
Three days to my birthday (17 November), I decided to go and celebrate it in Ife with Bola and my usual crowd. Their convocation was few days away. I arrived in the night and decided to rest for the day. I travelled on Monday, 14 November, and my casual leave was for a week. I was therefore made to do my work for the whole of the week in one day before I could travel. I was very tired on arrival in Bola’s room. Let me just say that I sneaked into her room. All I needed was a deep sleep. After Bola gave me a sumptuous dinner, I just slept off. I was thinking I would enjoy my sleep till the following day. That was what I planned for until the one I did not plan for woke me up at 3 am. In the midst of my deep sleep, I could still hear it clearly: “Dapo, I am pregnant”. As deep as the sleep was, it vanished like a vapour as soon as the message dropped like a lottery announcement. I sat up instantly without following procedural instructions on sudden sit ups. For us to get to this point, one thing must have led to the other.
To be continued
