Deconstructing Obasanjo’s ‘Let’s-Forget-The-Civil-War-And-Move-On’ Sermon

By CHUKS OLUIGBO

Recently, precisely on January 18, former President Olusegun Obasanjo urged Nigerians to put the pains of the civil war behind them in the interest of the continued corporate existence of the country, saying it was worrisome that over four decades after the civil war ended, Nigerians were still mourning and groaning about the events around the 30-month war.

Obasanjo, who spoke in response to comments earlier made by Ben Gbulie, a colonel and one of the speakers at a grand civic reception organised by the South-West chapter of the People’s Democratic Party (PDP) to welcome the former president home after his resignation as the chairman of the party’s Board of Trustees, said it was unnecessary and inimical to the corporate interest of the country for people to continue to prolong the healing process by their attitude and comments.

He said, “I believe the time has come when all of us in this country should put the civil war behind us…. How many years has the war been over now? January 1970, 43 years. If after 43 years we are still mourning and groaning about the civil war, I wonder. The Second World War ended in 1945 and the combatants became the best of friends less than 10 years after, I just believe that we should put the civil war behind us.”

On the face of it, the above statement by Obasanjo should be commended. Indeed, it is high time. Forty-three years is such a long time for any wound, no matter how deep, to have healed. Only that Obasanjo’s statement sounded like dismissing a crucial part of our history with a wave of the hand. The former president missed a crucial point: deep wounds don’t just heal; they are treated, and with the right medication, else they become infected by tetanus. Then you won’t just have the wounds to contend with, you will also be battling with the severe muscular spasms and contractions that go with tetanus – and this seems to be the point where we are right now.

The question to ask is: what genuine efforts have successive administrations in Nigeria made since after the civil war to heal the wounds of Nigerians – not just the Igbo, but all Nigerians, because as John Pepper Clark aptly captured it in his beautifully-crafted poem “Casualties”, we were all casualties, Biafrans as well as other Nigerians, only that the degrees varied.

Much has been written about the attempt by the Yakubu Gowon administration to reconstruct, rehabilitate and reconcile. But commendable as Gowon’s efforts were, one thing that comes out very clearly is that they were half-hearted. To quote Paul Obi-Ani: “The post-war reconstruction of Igboland was shoddy. There were no genuine efforts on the part of the victorious Federal Government to assist the Igbo people towards the rebuilding of their war-damaged infrastructure…. The little assistance the Federal Government extended to the Igbo was mere window-dressing and inadequate to prevent thousands of them from dying of starvation immediately after the war” (Post-Civil War Social and Economic Reconstruction of Igboland: 1970-1983, p.125).

But besides Gowon’s efforts, recall that the Shehu Shagari administration granted state pardon to the former leader of Biafra, Chukwuemeka Odumegwu-Ojukwu. That was a step towards true reconciliation.

But what would have been the most effective effort towards total reconciliation was the setting up by the Obasanjo administration, on June 14, 1999, of the Human Rights Violations Investigation Commission (HRVIC), otherwise known as Oputa Panel, to investigate human rights abuses that took place from January 15, 1966 (when the first military coup occurred) to May 28, 1999 (the day before the last military handover to civilians). The seven-man commission, headed by Chukwudifu Oputa, a retired justice, began its sittings on October 23, 2000, and by May 21, 2002, submitted its "interim report" in six volumes to then President Obasanjo in Abuja. Seven days later, on May 28, the panel submitted its "main report" in 60 large boxes.

Unfortunately, when former military president, Ibrahim Babangida, was summoned by the Oputa Panel, he refused to appear, and instead went to the Court of Appeal where, on October 31, 2001, he got a favourable judgment that the Oputa Panel, lacking legal backing, had no right to summon him. The Federal Government appealed to the Supreme Court.

Further, on June 3, 2002, IBB filed a suit at the Federal High Court asking it to stop President Obasanjo from implementing the report of the Oputa Panel. The suit, jointly filed with Halilu Akilu, former director of Military Intelligence, and Kunle Togun, had as defendants Obasanjo, the Attorney General of the Federation, and Oputa and his commission.

Finally, on February 3, 2003, the Supreme Court ruled that the panel had “no powers to summon witnesses outside the Federal Capital Territory”, and further “that the 1999 Constitution made no provision for tribunals of inquiry”. This development ended further action on the Commission’s reports.

But how have commissions of this nature functioned elsewhere? For an answer, let’s look to South Africa. Following the abolition of apartheid in South Africa, the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) was set up, headed by Desmond Tutu, former Archbishop of Cape Town, where witnesses who were identified as victims of gross human rights violations were invited to give statements about their experiences, and perpetrators of violence could also give testimony and request amnesty from both civil and criminal prosecution. It was generally seen as a crucial component of the transition to full and free democracy in South Africa.

But the important thing about the TRC was that it was backed by law: it was set up in terms of the Promotion of National Unity and Reconciliation Act, No. 34 of 1995, and had the mandate to bear witness to, record, and in some cases grant amnesty to the perpetrators of crimes relating to human rights violations, as well as reparation and rehabilitation. Despite numerous criticisms, the TRC is generally considered to have been successful.

But not so in the case of the Oputa Panel. Till date, as shocking as the revelations in the panel were, the reports are still gathering dust in the shelves. Why? Because the Commission that produced the reports had no legal backing.

So, why was the Oputa Panel not backed by law? With all his international exposure, was it possible that Obasanjo did not recognise the fact, ab initio, that such an important commission required legal backing to be effective? While the sittings were going on, many far-sighted Nigerians raised concerns that the panel might as well end up as “a toothless bulldog” – all barks and no bite. But the Obasanjo government kept mute, until the panel met a dead-end. Which also raises the question of whether Obasanjo truly, genuinely intended to reconcile all aggrieved sections of Nigeria for the “corporate existence of the country” that he is so very much concerned about now – because he ended up, through the Oputa Panel, reopening old wounds that were already gradually healing, leaving the totality of Nigerians dripping with fresh blood. He had an opportunity to change the course of history, but he bungled it.

As recent as May 2011, Matthew Hassan Kukah, secretary of the Oputa Panel, who is now the Catholic Bishop of Sokoto, reportedly expressed worry over the non-implementation of the final report of the commission. Speaking at the launch of his book, Witness to Justice: An Insider’s Account of Nigeria’s Truth Commission, in London, Kukah recalled that the commission did offer concrete suggestions on how to alleviate anxieties across the country, such as communal violence, religious crisis, culture of impunity and illegal detentions of people, saying: “My argument is that the inability or unwillingness of government to deal with very practical processes, especially the ones that arose from the findings of the Oputa Commission, is likely to have an impact on the politics of Nigeria.”

So, while sharing in Obasanjo’s desire for true healing, it is also pertinent to point out that it doesn’t just happen; it is initiated and pursued to a logical conclusion. That is also why there are concerns about the genuineness of Nigeria’s leaders who often mouth the mantra that Nigeria won’t break up without making any concrete effort to ensure that the country stays together.

A Trip To The Heartland

By Chuks OLUIGBO

My last visit to Owerri, the capital of Imo State, the Eastern Heartland, was in December 2011. So, when recently I had cause to make a trip to that ‘city of enjoyment’, I decided to, as in the saying, keep my ears (as well as my eyes) to the ground. My journey was by road, so I had ample time to take a good look around.

The Imo Transport Company (ITC) bus that I boarded from Lagos crossed the Niger Bridge into Onitsha at about 4pm. After a little delay in traffic, we hit the Onitsha-Owerri road. My first observation was that the dualisation of the Onitsha-Owerri road, which contract was awarded by the Federal Government during the Obasanjo presidency, has been completed. With that, traffic flow on that road has become very smooth. Barring police checkpoints, a drive from Onitsha to Owerri now takes 50 minutes on the average.

We drove into Owerri at about 5:20pm. From a distance, the Maria Assumpta Cathedral, that architectural masterpiece that has become a landmark as well as an object of art, still glows in its splendour and magnificence, only that it has reassumed its original blue and white colour, a departure from the green and white it changed to at the peak of ex-Governor Ikedi Ohakim’s Clean and Green Initiative when all fences in Owerri turned green and white overnight.

Driving around the next day, I realised the city has lost nothing of its bubbly nature. From Wetheral to Douglas to Tetlow to Assumpta Avenue to Okigwe Road and all the adjoining streets, one thing was clear: Owerri is still its old self, a beehive.

But how does one begin to describe the transformation that has taken place in the city in so short a time? Owerri is literally undergoing an overhaul.

At the Orlu Road (Warehouse) Junction, there’s now a big roundabout where traffic police stand used to be. Facing Orlu Road is the newly opened Sam Mbakwe Road; it is bordered on one side by the Bongo Square (under construction close to the remodelled Imo Hotels) and on the other by the Imo Freedom Park (under construction) stretching to almost as far as the edge of the Nworie River. The two ends of the junction on the Orlu Road approach are also being expanded to ease traffic flow. However, with the opening of the Sam Mbakwe Road, the junction is now a crossroads instead of its former T-junction. As such, traffic situation there has worsened as traffic flows from three directions into one of the roads at each point in time.

Further down the road, the Ama JK Recreation Park at Douglas by Bank Road and facing new Garden Park has been demolished. On its ashes a new structure tagged Heartland Centre is sprouting. The Centre, which comprises a downtown parking lot, international shopping mall outlets, the gym centre, cinema, bowling, auditorium, conference hall, fast food outlets, service apartment, restaurants/coffee shops, etc, is being built on behalf of the Imo State Government by Genreralia Consortium NIFPS Icono (Spain) and Hormipresa Nigeria Ltd.

On Wetheral as well as Douglas Road, all the high fences have been pulled down and are being replaced by dwarf rocky-style fences. Equally, virtually every street entrance in the city now has a gate.

The entire Concorde Boulevard has been ‘pimped’. A big gate leads into the area from Port Harcourt Road. The Cenotaph within has been rebuilt and renamed Heroes’ Square. Opposite the Square is the Ikemba Ojukwu Centre, adjacent which is the Children Recreation Park. The long abandoned Commissioners’ Quarters has been renovated and renamed Commissioners’ Court; same for the Legislative Quarters, which is now an annex of the Imo Concorde Hotel, called Concorde Apartments.

Furthermore, the premises of Imo Newspapers Limited on Egbu Road, which used to house The Statesman Newspaper and the Imo Job Centre and Finishing School, has been redesigned to also play host to Imo College of Advanced Professional Studies (ICAPS).

But where the greatest transformation has occurred is at the Okigwe Road/Wetheral Road roundabout and the entire Government House axis. There, Modotel, formerly a property of Second Republic vice president, Alex Ekwueme, which recently moved into the hands of the Young Shall Grow group, has been remodelled into the group’s Rockview brand.

The roundabout itself is undergoing reconstruction and re-beautification. The wall of the roundabout now bears the names of the 27 local government councils in the state. On a semi-circular wall in front of the Imo Investment House facing the roundabout is the inscription “POLITICIANS THINK OF THE NEXT ELECTION WHILE LEADERS THINK OF THE NEXT GENERATION”, a quote attributed to the state governor, Rochas Okorocha.

The old Government House gates have been closed and a new one opened. The entrance itself, beginning from the roundabout, has been widened. The walls of the Imo State Library has been pushed further inside, closer to the library building, while the entire space between the library and the Government House Road, which used to be a garden of some sort, is now a thoroughfare.

Many new structures have sprung up inside the Government House premises. For instance, the newly built Twin House hosts the Offices of the First Lady and the Deputy Governor. Also, on the space that used to house the Forestry Department of the state Ministry of Agriculture, the state treasury, and others, a dome-like structure is emerging. My enquiries revealed the new building is a non-denominational worship centre.

And there are many more.

Time did not permit a visit to the Sam Mbakwe Airport, whose terminal is one of the 11 being remodelled by the Federal Ministry of Aviation. From hearsay knowledge, however, work is going on in earnest, and it is believed that its completion would boost travel and tour in the state.

In short, Imo is working.

In The Land Of Eyitu

By Chuks OLUIGBO 

The flight from Lagos to Benin took roughly 45 minutes. After a little delay on the airport road, the airport taxi hit the Benin-Onitsha Expressway. In the next hour and a half, we melted into the ‘big heart’ of Asaba, the capital of oil-rich Delta State, and into the prime hospitality it has on offer.

 

As we took a U-turn and branched off the expressway into Summit Road (constructed by the James Ibori administration), a panoramic view of the unfolding scenery gave me one thought: ‘Asaba has put its feet strongly on the ground and is making a bold statement in Nigeria’s hospitality industry’. Indeed, it may be overtaking Port Harcourt as the hospitality capital of South-South Nigeria. Why? Numerous new hotels (and associated restaurants, bars and night clubs) have sprung up, many of them tastefully built.

But while Summit Road gave me a thought, a drive around Asaba gave me conviction. There was not an iota of doubt anymore. Asaba has included its name in the hospitality map of Nigeria. The newly-built Asaba airport, which was opened to business in 2011, is no doubt giving a boost to this development.

My destination itself blew my mind: Grand Hotel Convention Centre and Resort Asaba situated on Nnebisi Road, venue of the Nigerian edition of Sokka International Customers’ Forum, the main reason for my trip. The splendour of the hotel’s décor, the ever present quality linked to true elegance gave a refined atmosphere of luxury.

Grand’s other name is ‘Paradise on the River Niger’, and you may wonder why, but you will stop wondering the moment you walk down its coconut-lined alley and cross over to its Sports Lounge and Jetty, where you can dip your feet into the waters of the mighty Niger as well as have a very clear view of much of the river’s stretch. Grand practically sits on the edge of the Niger; or, put differently, it is nestled between the beautiful river coast of the Niger and the impressive town of Asaba.

Officially opened to business on January 17, 2002 by Olusegun Obasanjo, then president of Nigeria, Grand Hotel offers the highest international standards. Geoff Peters and Horst Braun (Carlton representatives) who were on the trip with us said that much. Apart from its assorted range of lodges, the hotel offers concierge desk, guest relations including car hire service, 24-hour valet parking, laundry and valet service, express check-in and check-out, fully equipped business centre, doctor on call, guaranteed all-round security, and so on. Other attractions include the Grand galleria (café, bar and deli), the open air theatre, the exquisite swimming pool (and poolside bar), etc, plus 24-hour banking services.

Other hotels in the city include Orchid Hotels (DBS Road), which is competing seriously with Grand; Best Garden Hotels, Monalisa Guest House, Lone Palms Hotels, Enotel, Vinelo Hotel, Peoples’ Club Guest Inn, Delicia Hotel (Ezenei Avenue); Nelrose Hotel (Government House Road); Leisure Homes (Anwai-Illah Expressway); Larryville, Calvary Hotels (Uda Layout); Deos Hotel, Holiday Hotel (Nnebisi Road); Garentiti Apartment (Okpanam Road); Sovitel Hotel (Nduka Osadebay Street, off Ezenei Avenue), and numerous others.

Exclusive restaurants in the city include Fish World, Giddy’s Place, African Cuisine, Paparazzi, (Anwai Road); Good Shepherd (Ogbuagueze), and many more.

But beyond hospitality, Asaba also has a very interesting legend about Eyitu, whom my poet friend, Sylvester Nwokedi, calls ‘Jesus of Asaba’ in a poem of the same title. According to the legend, at a time in the history of Asaba, the river that supplied the people with drinking water dried up and they were at death’s door due to the ensuing drought. The oracle divined that it was only a virgin’s sacrifice that would save the situation. Eyitu, described as the beauty of Asaba, daughter of Ojife and granddaughter of Nnebisi (after whom a major road in Asaba today is named), in her first decade on earth, volunteered herself and became the sole sacrifice that saved the people of Asaba. Her mother, Ojife, buried her alive as a sacrifice so that Asaba people would not die of thirst. Eyitu thus became a salvific river that saved waterless Asaba.

Asaba, also called Ahaba, a short form of ‘Ahabagom’ (‘I have chosen well’), a quote from the founding father of Asaba, has the nickname of Ani Mmili, meaning the land of water. According to the 2006 census, the city has an estimated population of 149,603. It is strategically located on a hill at the western edge of the majestic River Niger and forms a connector between western, eastern and northern Nigeria through the River Niger from the north and via the Asaba Niger Bridge, an east-west link and a Nigeria landmark.

Founded in 1884, Asaba was once the colonial capital of the Southern Nigeria Protectorate. It hosted the Royal Niger Company, which the British authorities set up to stimulate trade and the exportation of goods to England. The town is ruled by a monarch, the Asagba of Asaba, who is the traditional head. The present Asagba is Obi Joseph Chike Edozien, a professor emeritus of the University of North Carolina. He is the 13th in line of succession.