Davido: Why Yoruba and Hausa Muslims reacted differently to video, by Farooq Kperogi – Newstrends
Connect with us

Opinion

Davido: Why Yoruba and Hausa Muslims reacted differently to video, by Farooq Kperogi

Published

on

Farooq Kperogi

Davido: Why Yoruba and Hausa Muslims reacted differently to video, by Farooq Kperogi

Music star Davido’s social media promotion of a new song by Logos Olori (whose real name is Olalekan Emeka Taiwo) titled “Jaye Lo” where men dressed in stereotypical Muslims robes gyrated into a sudden burst of frenzied dancing shortly after performing the Muslim prayers near a mosque has incensed Muslims in Hausaphone northern Nigeria but doesn’t seem to bother Yoruba and other Nigerian Muslims.

The differential reactions to the music video—and to most other issues involving religion— among Nigerian Muslims can be traced to the history and character of the evolution of Islam in the North and in the Southwest.

It is not often known that Yoruba and Hausa Muslims share a common, age-old heritage even though the manifestation of Islam in the lived experiences of the people is fundamentally different, which is magnified by the often acrimonious political differences between the two groups in contemporary Nigeria.

The emergence of Islam in both societies is not only fairly co-extensive, it is also from the same West African source. Islam came to Katsina, Kano (and in much of Hausaland in Nigeria’s northwest) in a sustained, systematic form in the 1300s. It came to Kano when Yaji I was king of Kano— and to Yorubaland in the 1450s during the reign of Oluaso, the defunct Oyo Empire’s longest reigning monarch on record.

Tarikh arbab hadha al-balad al-musamma Kano, the Arabic-language palace diary known to us in English as the Kano Chronicle, which recorded biographical profiles of Kano’s kings from the 10th century until the Usman Dan Fodio Jihad in the early 1800s, is the first known written account to state that Islam was brought to Kano by the Wangara people of Mali during the reign of Yaji I who ruled from 1349 to 1385.

READ ALSO:

Islam also came to Yorubaland (and surrounding areas such as Borgu and Nupeland) through the same Wangara people of Mali, which explains why Islam is called “Esin imale” in the Yoruba language, which literally means “religion of Mali.” Note that the Wangara are also known by such names as Mande, Mandinka, Malinke, Mandingo, Dyula, Bambara, Soninke, etc.

Although Islam has existed in Yorubaland since at least the 1400s, the first mosque wasn’t built in Oyo-Ile, the ancient capital of the Oyo Empire, until 1550, and in Iwo, a historic Yoruba Muslim town, until the 1600s. While Islam took enough roots in Yorubaland that Sharia courts were established in some towns, traditional modes of Yoruba worship coexisted with Islam for centuries.

Former Bauchi State governor Isa Yuguda pointed out on April 26, 2013, that “the first Sharia court [in what is now Nigeria] was established in Iwo, in Osun State.” Many Yoruba Muslims repeat this claim both to show that Islam in Yorubaland has a historical edge over Islam in the North and to persuade the Nigerian government to allow the implementation of Sharia for Yoruba Muslims who desire it.

But the claim is probably an exaggeration. Sharia courts seem to have existed in Hausaland before they appeared in Iwo, but their appearance in Yorubaland obviously did precede colonialism by at least 100 years. Other Yoruba towns that had sharia courts decades before colonialism are Epe, Ikirun, and Ede (incidentally Davido’s hometown), which are all located in what is now Osun State. (Davido’s grandfather, Alhaji Raji Adeleke, was a respected Muslim leader in Ede who had the title of Baba Adini of Ede, that is, the Chief Protector of Islam in Ede town).

So, Islam in Yorubaland and Islam in Nigeria’s extreme north share similar Malian-inflected historical trajectories, and neither is a direct consequence of the other, although there are interesting historical overlaps between them. For instance, several Hausa (and pre-Dan Fodio Jihad Fulani) Muslim scholars traveled to Yorubaland to preach and share Islamic knowledge. This inspired a robust linguistic and cultural interchange between the two groups.

READ ALSO:

Prior to Usman Dan Fodio’s 1804 jihad, Islamic practices in both Hausaland and Yorubaland were similar in their syncretism. That is, they blended traditional African religions and Islam. In his book Imale: Yoruba Participation in the Muslim Tradition. A Study of Clerical Piety, Patrick Ryan characterized Islamic practices in Yorubaland as “accommodationist” and pointed out that Usman Dan Fodio would have condemned Yoruba Muslims as “mixers”—as he did Hausa Muslims of the time.

So, Usman Dan Fodio’s jihad was the defining point of departure between Islam in Hausaland and Islam in Yorubaland. The jihad didn’t just extirpate the accommodationist, syncretic brand of Islam previously practiced in Hausaland, it also laid the grounds for a new syncretic ethnic identity in Hausaland.

Over the years, Islam has become not just a religion but an intrinsic constituent of an evolving, increasingly expansionist, politically consequential, and largely non-primordial Hausa Muslim identity. This fact has made Hausa the most ecumenical ethnic identity in Nigeria, by which I mean anybody can be “Hausa” provided they are Muslim, speak the Hausa language with native proficiency, dress like the Hausa, disavow allegiance to competing identities, and subscribe to the cultural consensus of the people.

That is why for most “Hausa” Muslims, Islam isn’t just a faith; it’s also an encapsulation of the totality of their identity and being. That explains why they are more emotionally invested in it—and react forcefully when it is, or perceived to be, attacked, undermined, or ridiculed—than Yoruba and other Muslims are.

Communication scholar Bala Abdullahi Muhammad once wrote in his Weekly Trust column that Hausa Muslims carry on as if Islam was revealed in Kano, as if the Qur’an was written in Hausa, and as if Islam is a uniquely primordial Hausa cultural heritage. Even Mali and Senegambia from where Islam came to Hausaland aren’t as roused to extreme passions over Islam as “Hausa” Muslims often are.

Islam in Yorubaland, on the other hand, hasn’t quite evolved from the accommodationist character it previously shared with Islam in pre-jihad Hausaland. And because Islam has been caked into the Hausa ethnic identity and constituted as the most important building block for identity formation in Northern Nigeria so much so that “Hausa” and “Muslim” have become misleadingly synonymous in the Nigerian popular imagination, Yoruba Muslims have been compelled to privilege their ethnic identity to fend off equivalence with, and to establish difference from, “Hausa” Muslims.

In other words, the association of Islam with Hausa—or Hausa-Fulani—has led to its recalibration in even historically Muslim polities in southern Nigeria such as Yorubaland and northern Edo.

READ ALSO:

As John Paden noted in Ahmadu Bello Sardauna of Sokoto: Values and Leadership in Nigeria, Ahmadu Bello, Northern Nigeria’s first premier and great-great-grandson of Usman Dan Fodio, actively promoted Islam as Northern Nigeria’s official religion before and after independence. Professor Sakah Saidu Mahmud, in his 2004 article in the African Studies Review titled “Islamism in West Africa: Nigeria,” also pointed out that Islam in northern Nigeria emerged as “the source of identity and a medium of competition for resources and political power.”

He added that “The regional leaders were in competition with each other as they worked to consolidate their local powers, and Islamization was a means for promoting regional identity.” (It also caused dissension in the North and intensified the struggles for a separate “Middle Belt” region for Northern Christians). This reality put Yoruba Muslims in Western Nigeria on the spot since the North instrumentalized Islam for identity and for competition with southern Nigeria, including Yorubaland.

Perhaps as a consequence of this, many Yoruba Muslims in pre- and post-independence Nigeria chose to conceal their Muslim names even when they were practicing, believing Muslims, just to distinguish themselves from Northern Muslims who have ethnicized Islam. For example, a prominent pre-independence Ibadan politician by the name of Adelabu Adegoke who was famous for his electrifying oratory changed his family name from Sanusi (which he bore throughout his educational career) to Adegoke.

The fact that the Sultan of Sokoto is recognized in Nigeria as the permanent leader of Nigerian Muslims, whether or not the Sultan is knowledgeable in Islam and against the merit-driven principles of leadership in Islam, hasn’t helped.

It should be noted that these are broad-brush characterizations that overlook many exceptions. There is a minority of Yoruba Muslims, for instance, who have more allegiance to Islam than they do to their ethnic identity.

For example, at a gathering of Yoruba Muslims in Akure on June 19, 2021, Sheikh Imran Molaasan, national president of Jama’at Ta’awunil Muslimeen and Iwo native, reportedly said, “If Nigeria breaks up, Yoruba Muslims will suffocate” in an Oduduwa Republic, and even implied that the resentment against the Fulani in Yorubaland masks sneaky anti-Muslim designs by Yoruba leaders who are mostly Christians.

There is also a minority Hausa ethnic nationalists who resent the “dilution” of their ethnicity with other ethnicities in the name of Islam, and there are Fulani nationalists who agonize over the progressive decline of their language, culture, and identity, but these groups are, for the most part, marginal.

Nonetheless, the foregoing background explains why most Yoruba Muslims see Logos Olori’s music video as mere harmless art not worth their time and Hausa Muslims see it as a mockery of “their” culture over which they must fight.

Farooq Kperogi is a renowned Nigerian newspaper columnist and Professor of Journalism in United States.

Davido: Why Yoruba and Hausa Muslims reacted differently to video, by Farooq Kperogi

Opinion

Rivers State emergency rule: A different view by Azu Ishiekwene

Published

on

Azubuike Ishiekwene

Rivers State emergency rule: A different view by Azu Ishiekwene

President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s proclamation of emergency rule in Rivers State on Tuesday surprised me for reasons different from those for which he has been severely criticised.
The mildest criticism is that Tinubu’s failure to call the Minister of the Federal Capital Territory, Nyesom Wike, to order was responsible for the crisis.
The more severe criticisms range from accusations that the President has subverted constitutional rule to charges of potential destabilisation at the behest of Wike.
A common point of agreement is that a civilian president should never have to declare emergency rule. That is the ideal.
But Rivers State before Tuesday presented a dire and complicated situation that stretched idealism to its elastic limits.

Chaos in slow motion
It’s convenient, especially for those who promoted and profited from the crisis, to pretend otherwise. Still, after the 27 state lawmakers loyal to Wike issued an impeachment notice, the outcome, if Governor Siminalayi Fubara had been impeached, might have been far worse for the state than can be contemplated under emergency rule. The proclamation was an unsolicited stitch in time.
If oil pipelines were already being blown up and militants deploying as the impeachment notice reached Fubara, what would have happened if the process had carried through? Rivers State has been chaos in slow motion for nearly two years, the only thriving business in the state being the politics of those who support Fubara and those who are against Wike.
The Supreme Court’s judgement invalidated the budget passed by Fubara and nullified the local government election. It affirmed the position of the 27 lawmakers, making Fubara’s government a lame duck. Emergency rule saved the governor from gunpoint, created a pause for the people to get their lives back, and made room for Wike and Fubara to stop and reflect. It’s a messy situation, but the counterfactual could have been worse.

READ ALSO:

Between Wike and Fubara
Popular media has framed Fubara as the victim of a grasping, unforgiving godfather, which suits his comportment. But during this inconvenient pause, it might be helpful for the governor to reflect on what he might have done differently, something that pressure by those egging him on for their narrow, selfish reasons might not have given him the space to do
President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s proclamation of emergency rule in Rivers State on Tuesday surprised me for reasons different from those for which he has been severely criticised.

The mildest criticism is that Tinubu’s failure to call the Minister of the Federal Capital Territory, Nyesom Wike, to order was responsible for the crisis. The more severe criticisms range from accusations that the president has subverted constitutional rule to charges of potential destabilisation at the behest of Wike.

A common point of agreement is that a civilian president should never have to declare emergency rule. That is the ideal. But Rivers State before Tuesday presented a dire and complicated situation that stretched idealism to its elastic limits.
Chaos In Slow Motion

It’s convenient, especially for those who promoted and profited from the crisis, to pretend otherwise. Still, after the 27 state lawmakers loyal to Wike issued an impeachment notice, the outcome, if Governor Siminalayi Fubara had been impeached, might have been far worse for the state than can be contemplated under emergency rule. The proclamation was an unsolicited stitch in time.

If oil pipelines were already being blown up and militants deploying, as the impeachment notice reached Fubara, what would have happened if the process had been carried through? Rivers State has been chaos in slow motion for nearly two years, the only thriving business in the state being the politics of those who support Fubara and those who are against Wike.

READ ALSO:

The Supreme Court’s judgment invalidated the budget passed by Fubara and nullified the local government election. It affirmed the position of the 27 lawmakers, making Fubara’s government a lame duck. Emergency rule saved the governor from gunpoint, created a pause for the people to get their lives back, and made room for Wike and Fubara to stop and reflect. It’s a messy situation, but the counterfactual could have been worse.
Between Wike and Fubara

Popular media has framed Fubara as the victim of a grasping, unforgiving godfather, which suits his comportment. But during this inconvenient pause, it might be helpful for the governor to reflect on what he might have done differently, something that pressure by those egging him on for their narrow, selfish reasons might not have given him the space to do.

In the public imagination, control of the state’s “political structure” is at the heart of the dispute between Fubara and Wike. Whether that is so, whether it’s about who the “authentic” party leader is, or it is more than what the public knows, Fubara and Wike know. We can only guess. But they both know.

Open War
The open war started after Fubara’s swearing-in when the governor wanted to install his candidate as speaker in the House of Assembly but failed. What was the point of demolishing the State House of Assembly complex built with hundreds of millions of naira of taxpayers’ money in December 2023 simply on the suspicion that the lawmakers were planning to impeach him there? Why did the governor think it was right to convene four of 31 lawmakers in his office to present the appropriation bill and then go on to implement it?
And why, after the peace deal brokered in Abuja, was it difficult for him to be his own man, free himself as the hostage of opportunistic local politicians and self-appointed opinion leaders and implement the decisions reached, instead of caving into busybodies in the People’s Democratic Party (PDP) whose primary interest is to continue the unfinished war of the 2022 Convention by other means?

Atiku could not have forgotten that when his boss did it again in Ekiti State two years later, it was mainly to facilitate Obasanjo’s hijack of the state for his political convenience, after lawmakers claimed to have impeached the governor. Fayose had become a thorn in his side, and he vowed to remove him by all means, fair and foul… Atiku may argue that he had been estranged from the government then and could not bear vicarious liability. However, he remained a part of the government until the end and must endure its glory and shame.

READ ALSO:

Atiku No 2 .
The PDP leadership and their cousins in Labour have never forgiven Wike for supporting Tinubu’s election. They have been quite loud in condemning the state of emergency. That’s their job as opposition. However, if the PDP is letting its testosterone rush get into its head and impair memory, we may need to remind the party how we got here.
Former Vice President Atiku Abubakar has been quite vocal in condemning emergency rule in Rivers State. In his earnestness, he has forgotten that the government in which he was the Number Two man had a shambolic record of infidelity to constitutional rule. And that is saying it nicely.

One can argue that President Olusegun Obasanjo’s proclamation of emergency rule in Plateau State in 2004, though controversial, was inevitable because of the horrific deaths caused by the sectarian violence, which led to reprisals in other states. Yet, former Governor Joshua Dariye’s suspected links to the crisis made his suspension inevitable.

Bayelsa’s Playbook!
Atiku could not have forgotten that when his boss did it again in Ekiti State two years later, it was mainly to facilitate Obasanjo’s hijack of the state for his political convenience, after lawmakers claimed to have impeached the governor. Fayose had become a thorn in his side, and he vowed to remove him by all means, fair and foul.

Atiku may argue that he had been estranged from the government then and could not bear vicarious liability. However, he remained a part of the government until the end and must endure its glory and shame.
Or perhaps he would have preferred the impeachment of Fubara from Obasanjo’s Bayelsa playbook? In that case, instead of an emergency rule, Tinubu would have provided a haven where the majority 27 lawmakers would have met under heavy security protection to remove the governor, as Obasanjo did under slightly different circumstances, in the case of former Governor Diepreye Alamieyeseigha.

Amaechi’s Forgotten Diary

Former Rivers State Governor Rotimi Amaechi, a longstanding foe of Wike, also weighed in, condemning the “power grab’s illegality.” He has a right to intervene and speak his mind. However, since he called the proclamation “an affront” to the rule of law and a power grab, it might be helpful to remind him of a typical, but by no means isolated, example from his record as governor.

The underlying currents may be similar – local politics gone rogue – but the consequences or potential consequences are not. Constitutional lawyers can debate the legal triggers because of the lack of clarity in Section 305 of the 1999 Constitution, compared with the 1960 Constitution, a pre-Republican document that gave the prime minister more expansive powers.

In 2013, when the position of chief judge in Rivers State was vacant, Amaechi appointed and swore in the president of the Customary Court of Appeal, Justice Peter Agumagu, against decency and the provisions of law. He joined issues with the National Judicial Commission (NJC), which was at its wit’s end to restrain him and keep him on the path of common sense. The state judiciary reeled under Amaechi’s blatant affront for one year, which he now conveniently forgets.

Apples and Oranges
Parallels have been drawn between the state of emergency in Rivers State and the one in 1962 during the Western Region crisis, especially as the latter was believed to have led the country down the slippery slope that eventually ended in the removal of the Tafawa Balewa government and the Civil War.

The underlying currents may be similar – local politics gone rogue – but the consequences or potential consequences are not. Constitutional lawyers can debate the legal triggers because of the lack of clarity in Section 305 of the 1999 Constitution, compared with the 1960 Constitution, a pre-Republican document that gave the prime minister more expansive powers.

While the emergency rule in the Western Region was mainly an opportunistic intervention by the federal government to undermine the Obafemi Awolowo-led opposition, the emergency in Rivers State was an inevitable step to prevent a potential descent into chaos, where the governor was not an innocent bystander.
Water in the Coconut

Since 1999, two administrations – Muhammadu Buhari’s and Umaru Yar’Adua’s being the only exceptions – have proclaimed emergency rule. Apart from 2013, when President Goodluck Jonathan left the governors of the three affected states in place because they had no link to the crises in their states, complicity has affected the scope of the application of emergency rule.

When Obasanjo threatened an emergency in Lagos, Tinubu said it was unacceptable because he was doing his best as governor to tackle the sectarian clashes in a small part of the state then. In Rivers, the governor is a part of the problem.
Those opposed to the proclamation should say how to leave Fubara in place and extract the water of peace from the coconut of Rivers State without breaking the shell on the head of the people.

Rivers State emergency rule: A different view by Azu Ishiekwene

Continue Reading

Opinion

How Wande Abimbola rejected IBB’s ING bait, and other stories (1)

Published

on

How Wande Abimbola rejected IBB’s ING bait, and other stories (1)

Tunde Odesola

(Published in The PUNCH, on Friday, March 21, 2025)

Embarrassment has no truer depiction than the guilt a debtor feels each time the string of his indebtedness twangs at his soul. I am talking about an honest debtor here. A sincere debtor feels sad whenever his inability to mend his broken promises nudges his conscience. He sincerely wishes to pay but cannot, yet.

However, the insincere debtor, hard like the shell of a tortoise, is unperturbed whenever he remembers his empty repayment promises. He blinks like a toad on a full stomach, “My lender knows times are hard. I cannot come and kill myself, jare. I will pay someday,” he says with malicious arrogance.

Despite living in a cutthroat world of credit facilities, I dislike borrowing. However, due to banking bottlenecks, I occasionally need a quick loan. When this arises, my mind will never be at rest until I pay it off. Whenever I’m indebted, the chiefest of my prayer points will be the grace not to die suddenly so I can pay up my debt and not carry someone’s money to the grave.

I always say this to my lender, “Uhmm, if I die today and you start crying, people will think you are crying for me, they won’t know you are crying for your money. You would come to my wake, look at my corpse and say in your mind, ‘Look at his big head! He has carried my money to heaven, idiot!’”

My lender would laugh and say, “Ha, you are not serious. You are not going to die now. Do not talk like that!”

But I talk like that because I know death lurks in the shadow of every mortal. I know each minute is a gift; each breath – a favour.

A jolly good friend of mine, Idowu Bailey, was born on Wednesday, November 14. Last month, Bailey, a giant, danced at a wedding anniversary shindig on a Saturday, visited his mechanic on Tuesday, spoke with a friend on Wednesday, and on Thursday, he died in the parking lot of his workplace, right inside the car with which his wife had taken him to work. Born in 1962, Bailey was 62 when he died. Bailey had a good heart and left a good impression of himself on everyone.

READ ALSO:

When he noticed our church pastor, Mr Peter Oyediran, had chosen the ‘Gorimapa’ hairstyle, which leaves no strand of hair on the head, Bailey presented a new set of clippers to the cleric, saying, “I observed you keep no hairs on your head nowadays. Here is a good set of clippers, sir.”

Debt. Since January last year, I have looked forward to writing a sequel to the series, “Wande Abimbola @ 91: How an àbíkú decided to live”, which I started in honour of the exemplary life of a former Vice Chancellor, Obafemi Awolowo University, Ile-Ife.

The series was a debt I felt I owed to the integrity, dedication, courage and excellence that define the grass-to-grace story of a village boy, who rose from the relics of the ancient Oyo Empire to peak at the academic mountains of Harvard University, Boston University, Amherst College, University of Louisville, Kentucky; Colgate University, Smith College, Massachusetts; and Great Ife, among others.

But I could not bring myself to do a follow-up on my series on Abimbola because Nigeria is a land of ‘one week, plenty troubles’. And, to remain in touch with readers, a columnist’s commentaries should sync with current affairs and realities.

Here’s a rundown of my articles between November last year and March, this year: the nation woke up to a member of the House of Representatives, Alex Ikwechegh, dehumanising and threatening to make a taxi driver disappear. A few days after this, a violence-encouraging video of the Alapomu of Apomu, Oba Kayode Afolabi, surfaced online, charging some members of the Peoples Democratic Party to take up arms during an election. Days apart, the story of Godwin Emefiele’s alleged 753-duplex estate broke, then Dele Farotimi wrote a book, and the Timi of Ede knelt to the Emir of Ilorin.

Along the way came the king of Orile-Ifo, Oba Abdulsemiu Ogunjobi, who threatened a 73-year-old man, Pa Arinola Abraham, with death. Later, IBB sold the most dishonest autobiography of all time. Then Bola Tinubu’s Lagos State House of Assembully replaced democracy with tyranny just before Senator Natasha Akpoti-Uduaghan dragged Senate President, Godswill Akpabio, to the virtual superhighway, accusing him of tailgating.

Each week I tried to go back to the Wande Abimbola story, a calamitous story broke in Naija. Just this week, a state of emergency was foisted on Rivers State by the Asiwaju of Nigeria.

Since life is but a walking shadow and Baba Abimbola is 92, I pushed the pause button on my editorial desk to celebrate the Awise while he is alive. More so, President Tinubu breathed a six-month lifespan into the nostrils of the emergency rule in Rivers, so I have enough time to come back and paddle my canoe on the Rivers of turbulence.

This series is a further exploration of Abimbola’s phenomenon as a beacon of good leadership, transparency in public office and religious fidelity.

READ ALSO:

To different people, Abimbola means different things. While many foreign religion worshippers call him a pagan, he is a hero to traditional religion adherents. Wande, the only surviving son of Iroko Abimbola, has spoken at the conclaves of world religious leaders, which included the Pope, upholding the truth of Ifa and radiating the essence of Yoruba culture and tradition.

Abimbola and the late MKO Abiola shared one thing in common. Both are abikus. “I am an abiku, who decided to stay after five comings. Abiola came 23 times before he chose to live.”

Abimbola and MKO met in the late 1960s at the Staff School of the University of Lagos. “I joined UNILAG as a senior research fellow in 1966 and I enrolled my children at the staff school. I took them to and fro the school. Abiola too was doing the same thing for his two children – Kola and his sibling. In the afternoon, we both got there before the school closed. It was while waiting for the school to close that we got talking. Abiola was an accountant with the International Telephone and Telegraph Corp,” the Awise Agbaye began.

He continued, “Abiola was a most jovial friend. He regularly visited me at my UNILAG house on Bode Thomas Street in Surulere, Lagos. When he comes, he would say, “Bàbá Àgbà, óò dè ní yòdí, óò dè ní béèrè énìkankan, óò dè je ka sere lo…,” exhorting me for not asking of him and urging me to let us go and hang out.

“Abiola told me he came from a very poor background and had to play a stringed musical instrument called ‘Osugbo’ to fend for himself. He loved me and I loved him, too. In 1972, I left UNILAG and went to Ife as a senior research fellow, so we lost contact temporarily. It was later, I began to read about him in newspapers and I began to wonder if it was the same Abiola who was my friend. One day, he sent an invite to me for the christening of his child. So, I went, and we reunited.

READ ALSO:

“I soon became the vice chancellor, and he would visit me for three or four days. His convoy would come late into the night, and I would lodge him in the chancellor’s lodge, which was behind my lodge. Anytime he visited, the domestic staff knew they had hit a jackpot because he would give them a huge sum of money that they all would share. After sharing, each worker would get as much as N5,000 when their salary was less than N200,” Abimbola said.

After the world-acclaimed scholar finished his two-term tenure of seven years as V-C (1982-1989), he tried his hands in politics, emerging a senatorial candidate of the Social Democratic Party in Oyo State after he was rigged out of the governorship race, which he said he won. Abimbola said the late Strong Man of Ibadan politics, Alhaji Lamidi Adedibu, and some other Oyo political leaders appeased him with a senatorial ticket. “They said they knew I won the primary but that they want an Ibadan son, Kolapo Ishola, to be the governor. After consultations with my people in Oyo, I accepted and worked for Ishola in Oyo.”

Abimbola won his senatorial election by a landslide. When the National Assembly convened, he emerged as the Senate Majority Leader, making him a leading Yoruba voice in national politics at the time.

No sooner had the Senate convened than the majority leader attracted enemies to himself when he single-handedly repelled the move by senators to determine and approve their salaries.

It was also in his direction that the Ibrahim Babangida military junta first looked when searching for who would head the Interim National Government – after annulling the June 12, 1993, presidential election won by Chief MKO Abiola.

“I was contacted twice to come and head the Interim National Government. I think they chose me because I was the highest-ranking Yoruba political office holder then. They probably thought if they chose me, that would assuage the feelings of the Yoruba. Four reasons made me reject the offer,” Abimbola said.

To be continued.

Email: tundeodes2003@yahoo.com

Facebook: @Tunde Odesola

X: @Tunde_Odesola

How Wande Abimbola rejected IBB’s ING bait, and other stories (1)

Continue Reading

Opinion

Nasir El-Rufai’s scorched-earth one-man opposition, By Farooq Kperogi

Published

on

Farooq Kperogi

Nasir El-Rufai’s scorched-earth one-man opposition, By Farooq Kperogi

Like a stranded mariner gasping on the shores of irrelevance, former Kaduna State governor Nasir Ahmad El-Rufai writhes in the uneasy throes of power’s withdrawal. His disquiet, however, is less the quiet lament of a fallen statesman and more the tempestuous fury of a Shakespearean woman scorned.

He has become fiery, irascible, indignant, and unrelenting in his public expressions of rage towards his former friends in power who have isolated him. He is throwing the kitchen sink at the power structures in Kaduna and Abuja in an all-out effort to extract vengeance and to ward off potential ensnarement.

The former cushy, self-satisfied, and illiberal denizen of power who was the scourge of dissenters railing against tyranny, now finds himself wielding the very defiance he once crushed with arrogance and malevolent glee. He has become an accidental insurgent (a la “accidental public servant”) forged in the crucible of his own contradictions.

There is a part of me that loves this new insurrectionary, rebellious, activist, and intensely irate one-man band opposition that El-Rufai has opportunistically transmogrified into.

For one, he is providing the first real opposition to the Bola Ahmed Tinubu administration. Every democracy needs the well-aimed slings and well-informed counsel of a sharp-witted opposition to keep its leaders from sinking into the depths of self-satisfaction and insouciance.

Say what you will about El-Rufai, but his intellect, erudition, and rhetorical dexterity are top-notch and undeniable. Imagine if figures of his political stature, institutional access, and strategic acumen had chosen to be thorns in the current corridors of power. Perhaps, the Tinubu administration would have thought twice before treating Nigerians with the cavalier disregard that has become its trademark in the last two years.

For another, he has an opportunity to experience what his critics went through when he was a governor for eight years. He abducted critics, caused opponents to be tortured, bragged about reducing politicians he has displaced to mere “bloggers,” instrumentalized the courts to squelch dissent, etc.

Now, he posts social media updates about his former commissioners being “abducted,” about the judiciary being weaponized against his supporters and his past administration, about the “misuse of federal security agencies in the persecution of opposition leaders,” etc.

READ ALSO:

Not only has El-Rufai become a “blogger,” once his favorite pejorative for social-media-active politicians he has dislocated in Kaduna, he has now plunged deeper into a lowly “content creator.” With the launch of a TikTok account, he’s gone from being a mere “blogger” to a digital hustler, complete with the undignified ritual of soliciting Nigerians to subscribe to his channel.

Yet, I am delighted that El-Rufai has joined our ranks. Professional “wailing wailers” like me (to use former presidential spokesman Femi Adesina’s agonizingly asinine and illiterate insult for government critics) welcome him to the club.

Nonetheless, my joy that he is inadvertently rendering a democratic service by the constancy and stridency of his strictures against the government has not blunted the acuteness of my awareness that he is an unbearably devious, self-seeking, hateful scoundrel who is only on a mission to avenge what he perceives as a personal affront to him.

As most people have already observed, had El-Rufai secured the minister of power position he was promised, his current antagonism toward the government would be as unimaginable as a cat lobbying for the rights of rats.

Not only would he have been a staunch defender of every government action, but he would have also directed his trademark vitriol at ordinary Nigerians suffocating under economic hardship. He would dismiss their grievances with characteristic scorn and cruelty.

Indeed, the same northern establishment he now courts and seeks to mobilize as a political cudgel would have been his favorite punching bag—just as it was in 2023, when he enthusiastically championed Bola Tinubu’s candidacy.

It takes an unnatural degree of slow-wittedness not to see that El-Rufai’s newfound disillusionment with the governments in Kaduna and Abuja reeks less of principle and more of a bruised ego nursing its wounds.

READ ALSO:

In my July 27, 2019, column titled, “How Political Power Damages the Brain—and How to Reverse it,” I called attention to (temporarily) politically displaced whores of power like El-Rufai who pretend to identify with ordinary people in their moments of political trauma.

“Also look at previously arrogant, narcissistic, power-drunk prigs who have been kicked out of the orbit of power for any number of reasons. You’ll discover that they are suddenly normal again.

“They share our pains, make pious noises, condemn abuse of power, and identify with popular causes. The legendary amnesia of Nigerians causes the past misdeeds of these previous monsters of power to be explained away, lessened, forgiven, and ultimately forgotten. But when they get back to power again, they become the same insensitive beasts of power that they once were.”

Get El-Rufai back into power now or in 2017, he would be the same villainous backstabber he has always been. He would be the same annihilator of the homes of poor people. He would be the same horrid tormentor of critics.

In a September 20, 2019, article, I described him as “straight-up Nigeria’s most bigoted and most dangerous public official alive.”

El-Rufai’s latest political metamorphosis is less a transformation than a temporary realignment born of personal grievance rather than ideological conviction. His brand-new zeal for opposition, while inadvertently serving the democratic process, is unmistakably fueled by wounded pride and thwarted ambition.

The same man who once ruled with an iron fist, silencing critics with impunity, now fashions himself as the voice of the oppressed, railing against the very structures of power he once upheld with ruthless enthusiasm. His current posture as an anti-establishment crusader is not the product of principle but of exclusion, making his activism less an act of courage than an elaborate act of self-preservation.

Yet, even as he momentarily aligns with the forces of resistance, history warns against mistaking his opportunistic dissent for genuine reform. Should fortune return him to the corridors of power, El-Rufai would waste no time reverting to the autocratic instincts that have long defined him. He would crush opposition, weaponize state institutions, and wield power with the same reckless abandon that now makes him a pariah.

Today’s dissenter is often tomorrow’s despot. To embrace him uncritically is to risk aiding yet another cycle of tyranny dressed in the fleeting garb of rebellion.

 

Nasir El-Rufai’s scorched-earth one-man opposition, By Farooq Kperogi

Farooq Kperogi is a renowned columnist and United States-based Professor of journalism.

Continue Reading

Trending