MKO: The Story of An Unlikely Hero of Democracy

Confession: I despised Gen Sani Abacha with the same intensity Obidients hate President Bola Tinubu. I thought I had overcome the ill-feeling after 28 years. Alas, I watched ‘MKO’ — the documentary on Bashorun Moshood Kashimawo Olawale Abiola currently showing in film houses across Nigeria — and my emotions went haywire again. It brought back painful recollections of military rule and sickening memories of Abacha, the military head of state who chastised Nigeria with scorpions. Media repression and assassinations were the hallmarks of the Abacha regime. It was horror all over again. My emotions swung from nostalgia to despair, from anger to resentment.

Three things hit me instantly from the documentary. One, the incredible transformation of Abiola from an establishment person to, as it were, an activist for democracy — like a prince becoming a rebel. Two, the key role Abacha played in the June 12 annulment crisis and how he became the ultimate beneficiary. Three, the place of America in the logjam and the unending suspicion that it played a role in sustaining the annulment and even in the death of Abiola. I went away with a few lessons, chief of which is that life is not black and white. Hardline positions might seem principled and desirable, but pragmatism as an option should always be on the table in playing national politics.

Abiola was a friend of power. I remember when he declared his presidential bid ahead of the 1993 election, one well-respected activist said: “President Babangida wants to hand over to one of his friends.” The impression was that he would never have come out without assurances from the powers that be. And, indeed, he did seek and get assurances, according to the man himself. He had been a government insider from the 1970s, when he was in the telecoms equipment business and got huge public contracts. He subsequently went into politics in 1979 and was believed to have supported at least one military coup. As a friend of power, he was quite circumspect in his ways.

But in ‘MKO’, we see a transformed Abiola as soon as the election he won in 1993 was about to be truncated. Various historical clips show a defiant Abiola taking on the establishment — the military establishment. After declaring himself president on the eve of the first anniversary of the election in 1994, he was arrested for alleged treason. His aide called the BBC and Abiola went live on air announcing he had been arrested. The BBC anchor asked him why he was still able to speak and Abiola quipped: “They have come to arrest me, not my mouth!” That made me laugh. He was taken to court, denied bail and thrown into the typical Nigerian police cell — a rat hole, dirty and tatty.

Abiola could not believe this was happening to him. He was not only regarded as the richest Nigerian at the time but also as an international figure and now effectively the president-elect of the largest black nation, even though his mandate was crushed by the military. Asked, in one of the clips, if he had any regrets, he said: “Any sacrifice is in order if it will bring democracy, peace and prosperity to Nigeria.” That was an amazing statement for a man who had all the comforts of life and did not really have to be a politician or become president. He was the Alhaji Aliko Dangote of that era. Can you imagine Dangote being clamped into a dingy cell for winning an election and claiming his mandate?

And, yes, we can say Abiola is the hero of the democracy we enjoy today — though I am aware some characters are still praying for military rule, either because they were born yesterday or are suffering from bitterness-induced and desperation-stirred amnesia. If Abiola had accepted the annulment of June 12 as the “will of God” as we normally do in Nigeria — hiding behind religion — the military would probably have remained in power in civilian cloak, as the case has been with President Teodoro Obiang of Equatorial Guinea since 1979. The trend was for dictators to transition to “democracy” and the transmute to “elected” life presidents. Abacha was on that path in 1998.

By standing his ground and refusing to take the easy way out, Abiola complicated the situation. The military authorities could not believe it. They obviously thought a few days in detention would break him and make him renounce his mandate. Why would he swap a waterbed for a six-by-six mattress in a police cell? Why would he swap his private jet for a Black Maria? Why would he swap the bosoms of his harem of wives for an anticlimactic romance with mosquitoes? Yet, Abiola courageously fought on until his suspicious death in detention on July 7, 1998 — a month after Abacha suddenly died also under cloudy circumstances. Abiola had refused to give up the mandate after four years in detention.

But for Abiola, maybe we would also not have power rotation today. Between 1960 and 1999, the north dominated the exercise of executive power at the centre, save for the six months of Maj-Gen JT Aguiyi-Ironsi in 1966, the three years and seven months of Gen Olusegun Obasanjo from 1976 to 1979, and the three months of Chief Ernest Shonekan in 1993. Abiola, a southerner, had won the June 12 election fair and square but was denied for no good reason. It was only fair and just, the core northern elite reasoned, that power be conceded to the south in 1999 following Abiola’s sacrifice. Today, there’s a gentleman’s understanding to rotate political power, even if it is not legally binding.

The Yoruba also have Abiola to thank for showing them the pragmatic pathway to power. In the First Republic, the core Yoruba elite, led by Chief Obafemi Awolowo, pursued an alternative political strategy that did not sufficiently overcome the electoral arithmetic. The three biggest power blocs in Nigeria, the tripod on which the federation was founded, are the Hausa-Fulani, the Igbo and the Yoruba. The Hausa-Fulani, after winning federal power in 1960 and 1979, allied with the Igbo to run government. Awolowo was an outsider. He preferred to be in opposition. He tried to work with the northern minorities to get power. It did not work. The numbers are clearly with the tripod blocs.

In 1979, Abiola chose to work with the Hausa-Fulani and was demonised in Yoruba politics and called a “traitor” like Chief SL Akintola in the First Republic. But he was busy building bridges, even when he felt rejected at some point. He was finally elected president in 1993, getting half of the northern votes, and defeating a northerner in Kano, Borno, Jigawa and Yobe, etc. Obasanjo and Tinubu later became presidents through similar alignments with the core north, an idea Abiola had to suffer for. As I pointed out in my new book, ‘Winning Formula’, being competitive in two out of the tripod blocs has consistently produced winners of the presidential elections since 1999. Abiola saw this ages ago.

One major revelation in ‘MKO’, for me, is what Brig Halilu Akilu said happened after Babangida decided to step aside in August 1993 and hand over to an interim government to organise a fresh election. Actually, Babangida had announced that all service chiefs would retire with him. Akilu, the former intelligence chief who hardly grants interviews, said Babangida and Abacha had a stormy meeting on the eve of departure. Akilu said Abacha insisted he would not retire, and Babangida wished him luck serving under Shonekan. I was hearing this bit for the first time. It somehow aligns with Babangida’s claim in his autobiography about the central role of Abacha in the power game.

‘MKO’ also opened my eyes to the ambivalent role of US President Bill Clinton in the saga. Just as supporters of some politicians today believe President Donald Trump will come and remove Tinubu as president, we were all stupidly expecting Clinton to arrest Babangida and Abacha over the June 12 annulment. It was pure fantasy. What ‘MKO’ has done is to put the pieces together: whatever the Americans said about democracy, their economic interests — particularly our “sweet” crude oil — appeared to take precedence when the chips were down. So much for the defence of democracy. I do not know if America killed Abacha and Abiola, but their deaths essentially ended the impasse.

Ose Oyamendan, the Nigerian-American filmmaker based mainly in Los Angeles, wrote and directed ‘MKO’. He was my senior at the mass communication department, University of Lagos. He played an important role in kick-starting my journalism career when he gave me a note to Mr Mumini Alao, then editor of Complete Football magazine, for me to undergo my internship at Nigeria’s most prestigious sports publishing outfit. After fleeing from Nigeria to the US in the crazy days of Abacha, Oyamendan transitioned fully from print journalism to filmmaking, even earning a master of fine arts (MFA) degree in film, television and digital filmmaking from the University of Southern California.

I recommend ‘MKO’ — which credits Mark Jonathan Harris, three-time Academy Award winner, as executive producer — to anyone who is interested in our political history. It fills a big gap and puts contemporary developments in context for those who genuinely want to see the bigger picture of our politics. I could not believe the calibre of people Oyamendan, who also serves as the narrator, was able to interview. Many of them are now dead; some look very young. The interviews were recorded over 10 years ago. Lest I forget, Amb Babagana Kingibe, Abiola’s running mate who was accused of jumping ship, said he actually watched him draw his last breath that fateful day. Damn!

AND FOUR OTHER THINGS…

SUICIDE JOKE

I have always believed that the most insensitive politician in Nigeria today is Senate President Godswill Akpabio and he has never given me a reason to rethink my conclusion. The other day, he made a cynical joke on a motion to “allow the poor breathe” in view of the prevailing economic hardship. His latest show of insensitivity is on suicide — strongly linked to depression and other forms of mental health challenges. Akpabio is opposing a bill to decriminalise attempted suicide, joking: “If you attempt suicide, you better succeed. If you don’t succeed, we will send you to prison.” Akpabio urgently needs an education on mental health. He has turned a big issue into a joke. Sad.

KID YOU NOT

In case you missed it, the trial of Alhaji Yahaya Bello, former Kogi governor, continued on Thursday with a bureau de change (BDC) operator testifying at an FCT high court in Abuja. Mallam Jamilu Abdullahi, the 19th prosecution witness in the N110.4 billion alleged fraud trial, said he received N1.4 billion from Alhaji Abba Adaudu, Bello’s associate, between December 15, 2021 and February 21, 2022 and converted it to dollars. He also gave details of the payment of the school fees of Bello’s kids. As we were told by the EFCC before, the payments were for several years ahead. I just imagine what N1.4 billion could have done for school libraries and laboratories in Kogi state. Depressing.

ROLLER COASTAL

Mr Dave Umahi, minister of works, initially announced that President Bola Tinubu had directed that part of the Lagos-Calabar coastal highway be routed through the existing East-West Road from Ondo into Edo state. Umahi called it “a wonderful engineering decision” in his usual flamboyant language. He subsequently clarified that the original coastal highway project remained intact. The explanations and clarifications have left more questions than answers. Was there a proper engineering survey? Was there an environmental impact assessment? How come the federal government is only now discovering the impact of “climate change” and “flooding challenges” on the project? Messy.

NO COMMENTS

Vice-President Kashim Shettima was brutally witty at the inauguration of the APC presidential campaign council on Wednesday. “Atiku Abubakar, I will still respect him and call him a former Vice-President Atiku Abubakar,” he said, in response to Atiku’s newfound love of calling the president by his first name. “I will not follow suit with (Babachir) Lawal and call him Kachalla. No.” Kachalla is a leadership title now being used for bandit commanders. Shettima continued: “Atiku Abubakar, who [is contesting] for the presidency for the eighth time, is no Abraham Lincoln. He is more of [Raila] Odinga.” The late Odinga ran for Kenya’s presidency five times without success. Ouch!