Osun State: 2011 should be AC’s concern

By Wale Adedayo

With the manner the issue has gone on thus far, I'll personally advise the Action Congress (AC) gubernatorial candidate, Alh. Rauf Aregbesola, to cease all legal fireworks concerning the disputed April 14, 2007 election, which the Tribunal has given to Prince Olagunsoye Oyinlola. One is not a Prophet. But almost three and half years down the line out of a four-year mandate, even with a possible AC victory at the Court of Appeal, Oyinlola would have served out a full term.

It is also possible Oyinlola wins the appeal, that is, if Aregbesola insists on another round of legal battle. And given past experiences, this is very much likely to be so. I feel the AC should just go back to the drawing board and prepare better for 2011, which is around the corner. Against enormous odds, AC did very well in Osun State during the 2007 elections.

As it happened in Ekiti State, it fought a ruling party greatly assisted by a close affinity to Nigeria’s centre of power and patronage in Abuja. In addition, the party also fought a hand-to-hand political combat with former insiders, who because they were aggrieved switched sides to the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP), giving Oyinlola’s men enormous advantage in knowing some of the tactics and key personalities that AC deployed for the election.

Osun and Ekiti states give a bird’s eye view of the self-inflicted deep wounds given to majority of those who belong to the late Chief Obafemi Awolowo’s School of Politics. In-fighting drove a number of them into different political parties when the Alliance for Democracy (AD) and Afenifere were allowed to self-destruct.

The old guard Afenifere led by Pa Reuben Fasoranti has almost all its members in the Democratic Peoples Alliance (DPA). A number of those who followed these old men also joined the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP). But those who believed in the Asiwaju Bola Tinubu-inspired Afenifere led by Senator Ayo Fasanmi went with Alhaji Atiku Abubakar into the AC. They formed the bulk of AD members as a number of them also joined the PDP, especially after the rancorous party primaries of the AC towards the 2007 elections.

AC’s nemesis in the South-West, especially Osun, Ogun and Ekiti states, is not the PDP or its core members, who are mainly conservative elements reminiscent of the Second Republic National Party of Nigeria (NPN). AC’s nemesis remains those who should naturally have been members of the party, but now belong to the PDP. They know AC members inside-out. Whether it is tactics, strategy or other things, these old AD members in PDP know how to contain their former colleagues.

And that is why kudos must be given to the AC members in both Osun and Ekiti states that despite the odds stacked against them – Abuja, incumbency factor and former colleagues working for the other side – they were able to stand tall with the number of seats they have in the Houses of Assembly in both states. It is a sure testament to political sagacity and acrobatic organisational abilities.

But despite all of the above, my advice remains. If the statesman attitude of former United States Vice President Al Gore is anything to go by, Aregbesola should adopt the same posture with moderation in that the AC should allow him to run without any stress of a challenger for the 2011 race. The interest of Osun State should be more paramount at this stage than individual or party interest.

Why? As long as the case continues to drag on, those at the helm of affairs in the state will definitely not be at peace irrespective of postures to the contrary. In our clime, ‘opposition’ elements within that polity will definitely pay for supporting ‘our enemies’. These would have had its debilitating effects on governance despite the brave face Oyinlola’s people have been putting up.

For a tenure that is less than one year to expire, I don’t see anything wrong in letting go, if only to ensure that appropriate lessons about why the 2007 loss happened have been learnt by the AC with a definite plan in place to make remedies. Winning almost 50% of Osun State was a feat by Aregbesola/AC using any known standard. It should be a veritable springboard for a 2011 rout of the PDP in Osun State.

Of course, it is possible that a campaign strategy has been built into this Tribunal cases towards sensitising the people of Osun State ahead of the 2011 elections. If that is the case, the matter should be continued. That is Ziggy raised to power something because with that, victory at the Tribunal is not envisaged, but positive PR generated from feelings of being cheated, which could galvanise the people to kick PDP out of Osun State next year.

Let me add an advice, which the Ogun State Governor, Otunba Gbenga Daniel, often gives to us in matters like these: “Whoever complains of being cheated after an election that he/she lost most likely deserves to lose. Don’t ever come to me with complaints from your area. I prefer that people complain about you than you coming here to whine about how badly you were treated and cheated. Let victory be your first and last thought. We don’t have plans for petition. Plan and work to win in your area. That is your duty.”

Aabo oro …

Umaru Yar’Adua: A man like us

By Wale Adedayo

His inauguration as President on May 29, 2007 was heralded with hope. Even the usually sceptical Nigerian pro-democracy community identified with him, despite a disdain for the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) that gave the man the ticket to run for office. His background as an activist during his academic years was celebrated in major Nigerian newspapers.

It was also the first time Nigeria would have a university graduate as president. The support was across the board to an extent that none of those praising his choice as president remembered to ask about his blueprint for ruling the country given the parlous socio-economic and political state of Nigeria at the time. It was as if the man had come with a magic wand to effect definite changes in the polity.

Not content with just praising Yar’Adua, the pro-graduate and activist president’s army descended on his predecessor, President Olusegun Obasanjo. There was no negative epithet enough to disparage Obasanjo with. As the charges against Obasanjo increased from the incensed pens and microphones of opinion moulders almost across the nation, it was praises galore for Yar’Adua, who six months into his tenure of office was just repeating a mantra to uphold the rule of law, thus encouraging due process in governance.

Issues about how the country would be managed were not addressed by this army of unpaid praise singers, some of who later descended on the same man in his dying days. An effective rupture was affected between him and Obasanjo, who was responsible for foisting him on Nigeria.

In a way, Yar’Adua, dancing to the popular rhythm of the encomiums being showered on him without any performance whatsoever, began to distance himself from Obasanjo and most of the reforms initiated by the former president. For Yar’Adua, who apparently did not have a programme of his own to implement before assuming office, it was a disaster.

A so-called called seven point agenda was hastily put together by his kitchen cabinet almost one year after he was sworn into office with a lot of noise in the media about how this was going to transform Nigeria into an Eldora do. But the seven point agenda avidly promoted by Yar’Adua’s government was obviously a very poor response to accusations of lack of vision by his erstwhile admirers who had by then realised the folly of singing the praises of a leader whose agenda in office nobody knew about previously.

But despite the sycophancy occasioned by political myopia which led Yar’Adua straight into the arms of praise singers who later smothered him in their embrace, nothing appears to have prepared his genuine admirers for his last days. Were it not for the grace of the death that took him away on Thursday, it was almost certain the man would have been removed from office through an impeachment as it was clear that the cabal around him was only using the vegetative Yar’Adua as a bargaining chip for their survival.

Thus, despite the man's vegetative state since last year, I felt very much for him in death. He was a pawn in a contrived political game, which he had no control whatsoever over. And it could have been any of us. Despite his privileged background, Yar’Adua was an activist right from his university days through his period as a lecturer. He was also one of the very few who stood against the Northern feudal lords and sought to fight for the downtrodden in that part of Nigeria.

But on getting into a political office, which he could have used to put what he has been preaching as a young man till his current age into practice, he developed cold feet. I cannot fault him. I do not know the weights of the militating conditions around him. Political office changes different people in different ways. One has been there before and certainly understands that hostage-takers are more in the corridors of power than in the whole of the South-East and the entire Niger Delta.  

Yar’Adua was almost our ideal president in many ways than one. In terms of past associations and groups he belonged to, you can conveniently put him in the same club with Chief Gani Fawehinmi, Chief Obafemi Awolowo, Senator Abraham Adesanya and Chief Bola Ige, etc. He was a man who believed and fervently spoke in favour of the dispossessed and the downtrodden.  

But he was a monumental failure in office because he did not practice those things which he so passionately supported and advocated in his younger days. Nigeria became a laughing stock among the comity of nations under his watch.

Words fail me as I feel so much compassion for this man who was used and abused by those I prefer to describe as Nigeria's Board of Trustees members. They are the hostage-takers holding our collective destiny in their blood-stained hands.

May Allah (SWT) forgive Alhaji Umaru Yar’Adua his sins and grant him Al Jannah Firdaus. Amin.

Micro-seconds from death (II)

Chapter Two

The Encounter

* The car in my Ijebu Ife country home on the Sunday morning after the attack showing the bullet hole to the windscreen. Photo: Wale Adedayo

* The second bullet hole, which penetrated the bonnet of the car. Photo: Wale Adedayo

* The road in Ilishan where the attack took place. Photo: Wale Adedayo

An SUV, most likely a Toyota Landcruiser, slowed down as it almost got to my right side on the bad sector of the Ago Iwoye/Ilishan Road. The road was being dualised at the time, with a section of it bad. I was about to enter Ilishan on leaving the last portion of Irolu on my way back home in Abeokuta, the Ogun State capital. I was alone in the car, having left Ijebu Ife through Atan, Ijebu Igbo and Ago Iwoye earlier.

As in previous nights, the glass windows were wound down. And music from a Cherubim & Seraphim Church Ayo Ni O! Compact Disc was fairly loud and blasting from my car. But unlike previous nights, I did not have the usual bottle of Hennessy to sip from in the car. Not that the usual stockist at Total Petrol Station, Ijebu Igbo roundabout, did not have one. But the voice which often warned me in dreams and other situations was at it again.

As I approached the petrol station opposite the roundabout where the major market in Ijebu Igbo is situated and almost made the right turn into the place, the voice was very firm as almost shouting in its usual inaudible manner for me to move on without taking any alcohol that night.  What is this? There are times you hardly can distinguish between that voice and your own. But each time I disobey what it tells me, something negative often result to my regret. As I slowed down, it came forcefully again, making me realise that indeed, the voice was at it again. I took off and dutifully made the normal left turn at the roundabout to face Ago Iwoye.

The interesting thing was that I had a half filled bottle of Hennessy in the car with me from Ijebu Ife when I left my country home in Okeliwo. The bottle was taken by Otunba Leke Adekoya whose Oke Agbo, Ijebu Igbo country home I had left earlier as he had a number of people with him. I was there to briefly say hello before continuing with my journey to Abeokuta. He gave me a bottle of red wine, which I kept in the car, in exchange for the Hennessy.

But in keeping with my social tradition, I did not drink the wine in order not to offend the ‘purer’ Hennessy. It was a rule among my close friends that diluting Hennessy or Remy Martin, our favourite drink, with any other kind of alcohol should not be encouraged. Once you taste either of the drinks in any particular day that should just be it until the next day when you can take another different type of alcoholic drink. So, when the voice insisted on my not buying another bottle of Hennessy, it was not as if I had not taken a few sips earlier or that it was a plan to ‘pollute’ the ‘pure’ drink with another. In any case, I obeyed the voice and moved on towards Ago Iwoye and from there towards Ilishan.

The jeep that slowed down was going in the opposite direction towards Ago Iwoye. I was not too certain, but it was as if the vehicle had made a sudden U-turn earlier as I observed in front of me. It was a ‘one-way’ driving for me because the other side was still under construction. Driving slowly on that bad portion was often advisable given the bumpy nature of the road, which could mess up one’s car if care was not taken. Even if the shock absorbers of the car are good, deflation of the tyres remains a possibility all through. But at about 10pm during a period many were scared to travel at night because of night marauders, driving slowly could be an invitation to armed robbers to block your car, except you are driving a four wheel like the jeep in question which can move over that kind of surface with ease without discomfort to the occupants of the vehicle or the automobile itself.

Initially, I was curious. Why should a jeep, which appeared to have turned back earlier, slow down the way this one was behaving? On getting to my right side, it slowed down the more, almost to the point of stopping, as I observed two faces from the jeep peering into my car as if to confirm who was there. I know that armed robbers along that portion of the road and the adjourning Shagamu/Benin Expressway often use such exotic vehicles to snatch other cars. But in my encounters with them, I’ve always been confident that as long it was only one vehicle, I could hold my ground against them. My licensed Pump Action Rifle was in the car with me. Certain native ‘insurance’ were also in the car and on my person making it certain that one could not be overpowered. These had worked in previous encounters, and I was always ready to test it to its limits given my sceptical nature as a journalist.

Driving past the jeep that was slowing down, I covered the short distance that took me to the already tarred and dualised portion of the road right inside Ilishan town in a matter of about two to three minutes. The asphalt felt good compared to the bumpy jumpy portion which I had passed through that was under construction. The jeep continued on its journey towards Irolu, and possibly towards Ago Iwoye, because I did not notice its lights in my rear view mirror again. But shortly before getting to an opening in the median that took me to the right side of the dualised carriage way, the sixth telephone call from a friend came through.

Biodun Odusanya and I were students of the Zoology Department in Ogun State University about the same period. He is also a member of the National Association of Seadogs (NAS), which we joined on the same day. But he is an official of the Reformed Ogboni Fraternity (ROF), which till date I have refused to join given my late maternal grandfather’s admonition against such a move. I had ignored previous calls from him, which began shortly after I left Adekoya’s country home in Oke Agbo that night. Picking it, my friend’s first words were, “Are you still in Ijebu (Ife) or you’ve left?” He dropped the phone after I had told him I was on my way to Abeokuta already without saying anything again. As I made to move to the right side of the road through the opening in the median, I dropped the mobile phone.

On getting to the other side of the asphalted portion of the road, two vehicles were in front of me. I normally wind down my window at night because I wear glasses. Experience has taught me that if you put the car air-condition on at night, when you wind down or open the door, the first 30 seconds might be your last in case of trouble. Mist would cover the glasses. And in situations like these in Nigeria, your first response matters a lot, because it could very well be the last.

I sought to overtake the vehicles, only for the one directly in front of me to move to the free lane, thus blocking my passage. Initially, I naively believed he was about to overtake the car in front. But it soon drew level with the first car, which I discovered had an Ogun State Government licensed plate number. I am not good at cars. But I also noticed that the car was fairly new and looked like one of the cars we (Ogun State Government) just bought for our officials. I relaxed a bit, thinking both drivers wanted to discuss briefly without stopping, which is a regular thing in this part of the world as long as you are side by side. But doing so at this time of the night was not comfortable for me.

So, the safety instinct in me flared up when both cars slowed down. I instinctively removed my seat belt. I have a simple rule for friends, who often get robbed while in traffic in Lagos. The seat belt is a hindrance to quick reaction in case of danger. I wear a belt ONLY when traffic is free flowing. Once cars slow down in front of me, I remove the belt.

All of a sudden, the car bearing the government plate number, which was directly in front of me, stopped. The second one stopped about a second or two later. Almost immediately, the left passenger door of the government vehicle was flung open with a man clutching an AK47 rifle coming out. Of course, immediately the car stopped, I had moved my pump action rifle from the floor by my left to the right on the passenger seat beside me. Immediately I saw the AK47 with him, I switched the PAF from safety to firing position. But I left it where it was so that the man and his colleagues still feel they have the element of surprise.

As this man moved towards my left, two others with the same type of gun got down from the right passenger side of the vehicle in the back and started taking positions. One moved to the front of my car in between their vehicle and mine, while the third guy moved to my right. He was to later face me from the driver’s passenger side window. In the interim, I just told myself that if this was it, then it will be nice to, at least, get one of them so that they can be easily traced. These thoughts calmed my nerves, because it would have been painful to end up like the founding Editor-In-Chief of Newswatch magazine, Mr. Dele Giwa; former Attorney General and Minister for Justice, Chief Bola Ige; Afenifere/NADECO Leader, Papa Alfred Rewane; wife of the presumed winner of Nigeria’s June 12, 1993 presidential election, Alhaja Kudirat Abiola; Ogun State PDP gubernatorial aspirant, Mr. Dele Arojo; and Lagos State’s Engr. Funso Williams, who were cut down in cold blood without any trace of the killers.

The first guy, who had by now positioned himself did not utter a word as he tried to lift up his rifle to level with me on the driver's seat. Initially, when he was coming, the prayers that came with my thoughts were that he should be close enough for my rifle. Pump Action Rifles are notoriously weak on impact with increasing distance between the gun and the target. If the target is not close enough, PAF cannot knock it down for an outright kill. But as the gunman to my left tried to get a level, my prayers were already answered because I got him straight to the face. In agony, he shouted in Yoruba with a hand to the face and the other hand clumsily clutching his rifle as he went down: “O ti yin ‘bon fun mi l’oju! (He has shot me in the face!).”

The second would-be-assassin was well positioned directly in front my Toyota Camry LE 2008 Model car. As in the case of not wearing seat belt in places I consider dangerous in Lagos while in traffic, it has been my driving habit in any suspected crime prone area to leave enough room between my car the one in front of me. This rule of mine was effected when both cars stopped in front of me. Another rule that has always paid of for me apart from enough space between our cars is that I do not put the engine off. My car was an automatic. So, I just put the gear in parking mode, with the head lamps fully on and the engine running. Even without a gun, once you establish the vehicle in front is that of robbers or assassins as in my own case, you can hit their car in a way that will draw serious attention from people around before they strike. Or if you are lucky, like me, you can still manage with or without injuries to escape by bashing your car against anything around. Without enough room, there is no way you can manoeuvre your car.

Almost simultaneously the first gunman got his face filled with bullets from my gun, the assailant in front who was well positioned took two shots at me. I felt a very sharp pain as if one was bitten by a large soldier ant between my chest and right shoulder. I thought the bullet had torn through to make its mark. But there was nothing like that. The bullet tore through the windscreen, no doubt. And it was very well aimed like a professional assassin targeting my heart. But it appeared I bent slightly to face the first assailant on the left through the window while taking my shot at him. It was almost like a fresh driver making a round through a steep bend in the road. You often bend with the car. I laughed at myself several months later since one is not a professional soldier or policeman for bending with the gun to take aim at the man that was about to kill me. If I had not bend slightly at the time, the bullet as it were was meant for my heart! The guy in front was a professional, no doubt about it.

But why did the bullet not penetrate my body? Could it be true that all the traditional ‘insurance’ against bullets and the like that one had been taking since childhood really works? The account (traditional diary of how to prepare ‘insurance’) inherited from my maternal grandfather, Obojo, contained different items like that, which I also benefitted directly from him before his passage to join our ancestors in 1988. But I burnt it after my conversion to Christianity in 1994. In my relationship with the Oodua Peoples Congress (Gani Adams faction), one also got a number of such ‘insurance’, despite the fact that I refused to join the organisation till date. Or was it the fasting, prayers and igbele in the last three days of December 2008, which the Pastor of a Celestial Church of Christ (CCC) recommended for me?

So, immediately after scoring on the first guy, I drew myself up on the car window and gave the guy in front a shot, which happened shortly before the report of his second shot at me. He too shouted and took cover. But I could not make out the language he spoke. Till today, I do not know where the strength to sit on the driver side window came from or how it was that possible for my hands to be steady in taking the shots one after the other calmly, but fast enough, before my would-be-assailants could do any damage to my body or kill me outright. I was not injured at all. My cloth was not torn in any way, despite the fact that the first bullet hit me. We could not trace its path in the car as well, because unlike the second one that hit the bonnet and lodged in the hydraulic pipe which was damaged, we could not trace the first bullet.

As I climbed down to my seat, I was convinced of death, because the guy to my right had all the opportunities in this world for a clean and clear shot(s). Pictures of my wife and the children flashed through my mind. How will her pregnancy be? (She has since given birth to Akintomiwa on 2 July 2009). How would she cope, knowing fully well our precarious financial position? How will my mum, Iya Seri, take it? It is a fact that of her five children (Doyin, Ibrahim (Aye Baba), Dayo, Myself and Seri), she dotes on Dayo and I most. It would have been a terrible blow after losing her husband in her early 30s. But how the children would take the story of my confrontation with the assassins was very important to me because the charge I’ve always given to them was never to be afraid of anyone. In an ironic way, not that I smiled, but something close to that came to my heart as I waited for death to come through the gun of the third assassin. I was pleased that they will be happy that their father was able to take out two of those sent to kill him. Till now, I still shiver when I remember what could have happened.

After a few seconds that seemed like eternity that I did not hear or feel the report of any gunshot, I stole a very careful glance using only my eyes towards the driver’s passenger side to the right of my car. What I saw made me turn my head to that side and a small portion of my shoulder to take a good look at the miracle showing itself right before my eyes! The assassin was bent over and instead of facing upwards seemed too busy struggling with his gun, which appeared to have jammed. He was really struggling with it. Meanwhile, in turning the head, my right hand had instinctively began to lift the PAF on my laps before the left one joined after seeing the spectacle before me. As I marvelled at the works of the Almighty wondering how on earth the assassin’s gun could have jammed, I lifted the gun and took a direct shot at the centre of his head which was presented to me through the window. He emitted an animal cry as he went down, finally.

Naively, I had believed the worst was over because the second car had been motionless without any activity or anyone coming out of it throughout the encounter I had with the three men from the first car with the Ogun State Government licensed plate numbers. In that instant of taking out the third assassin, a crazy thought came to me. I’ve often toyed with the idea of taking an AK47 from any dead armed robber who’s had an encounter with me. But in that very instant between the third assassin being hit and my thanking God it was all over, the two back doors of the second car flew open almost at the same time with a force that seemed as if the devil himself was in that car. Three men clutching the same AK47s alighted from the car and made straight for me. I knew it was like a back up team. In that micro-seconds, the voice that had spoken to me earlier in Ijebu Igbo insisting I should not buy another bottle of Hennessy that night came in the same firm manner saying, “Wale, move!!!” The voice has never mentioned my name before in all previous experiences with it. It was the first time, and my body responded instinctively as if a spirit was in charge of me.

I don't know how the decision came. But in that split instant, something moved in me that it was time to escape. All this while, my car engine was still running. But it was stationary with the two headlamps on. Only that the automatic Camry 2008 model had its gear in parking mode. I changed to D (drive) from P (parking) and squeezed between the median of the dualised road and the government plated car in front of me with a momentum that seemed as if one was involved in car racing. It was a flight for dear life! Almost within the same instant, the second car that had just disgorged its merchants of death roared to life and sought to block my passage by moving to cross my path right across the Ogun State Government licensed car which was by now at my right side. Pressing down very hard on the accelerator, I hit the assassins’ second car viciously. The driver desperately sought to pin me to the median. But despite his efforts, I broke loose and headed straight for the Shagamu/Benin Expressway, instead of passing through Iperu town to the right as I would have done if there had not been any incident.

It was the car that was trying to block my passage I first saw in my rear view mirror coming after me in hot pursuit. The second car soon followed. God was really at work that night because I would have had an automobile accident on linking up with the Shagamu/Benin Expressway. A lorry on its way from the Ijebu Ode end of the road was almost at the Ilishan/Ikenne Junction when I approached. My first instinct was to wait for it to go in order to avoid an accident that would have also claimed my life. But the same voice insisted that I should move. By now the lorry was even closer. Well, in that split second, I told myself, maybe God does not want me to die in the hands of these assassins as He seems to prefer an automobile accident instead. It seemed good to me too that the killers should not claim the credit for my death, and I hit the road with that top speed and turned towards Shagamu. It was really God at work. I almost lost control of the car in that instant. In getting back towards Shagamu, the car made straight for the end of the concrete median on the expressway. If my hand had tarried for a second in changing course towards Shagamu properly, it would have been a head on approach straight into the concrete. The car changed course in a zig zag manner towards Shagamu as the lorry screeched to almost a stop because it was about to hit my car from the back.

It was this very dangerous manoeuvre that was the second and final act of grace for me. The heavy lorry formed a barrier between the assassins’ vehicles and mine. They were almost upon me. As I regained control and stepped up the gas to make a final get away from the killers, a frantic search for my official mobile phone was a disappointment. It had dropped to the floor of the car during the dangerous manoeuvres I made earlier. But a Blackberry Storm model I used with a Globacom sim card was still in the cup holder where I normally place it when there is no drink in the car. A cursory glance in the rear view mirror revealed my assailants were back on the trail.

But the lorry, which they had by now overtaken, had created enough space between my car and their’s. Irrespective of this seeming advantage, I pressed harder on the gas as I used one hand to place a call to the Chief Detail to the Governor, who is a staff of the State Security Service. I am sure my voice was shaking as I spoke with him, explaining in unmistakable terms that I have just escaped an assassination. As a student of security and strategic studies, I described in clear details where it happened, the vehicles involved and where I was and also headed. The man was with Daniel at the Awujale’s palace in Ijebu Ode at the time. The Governor was having a meeting with the Awujale of Ijebuland, Oba Sikiru Adetona. His phone was apparently on speaker, because some other security personnel with him heard my frantic call. In addition, he also told me that himself after the incident and I have no reason to doubt him.

The second call was to my wife, Ajoke, because it was something we had been expecting since 2008 (more on this later). A friend, Mr. Femi Davies, whose Pastor had assisted (more on this also later) late last year, was the third person I called. But shortly before I got to the first turning into Shagamu through Isale Oko, I did not notice the cars again. Shortly before I got to Shagamu, a call came through my BlackBerry from Alhaji Moibi Olufodun asking which Press Secretary of the Governor was under attack. I confirmed it was myself, and he immediately offered to move from his Ago Iwoye base to assist me. I was taken aback. How did he know, because I was yet to get to Shagamu? He said one of the ‘boys’ who heard the conversation among the security men in the Governor’s convoy alerted him. My brain went into a spin. If Moibi, who was in Ago Iwoye knew within five minutes of the incident and was willing to move with boys, what happened to the Police and SSS? Till date, I still felt like being set up again because he was asking for my precise position.

Moibi, who is the current Secretary to the Ijebu North Local Government Council, worked with me as Field Officer of the same local government during my service as Director of Organisation, PDP Ogun State. The Field Officer system was an initiative one borrowed from the defunct Soviet Union and the Chinese Communist Party in terms of micro-managing a volatile and complex political system or society during my sojourn in the party secretariat (more on this in a forthcoming book, “In the line of fire: Party organisation in a young democracy”). My response to Moibi was to ask certain basic security questions in terms of those coming with him and what they were coming with. His response was queer. But being a person I trust, a space for a benefit of the doubt was still left for him. I promised to call him back.

My telephone call to Imole, the Oodua Peoples Congress (OPC) (Gani Adams faction) Chairman in Shagamu Local Government at the time, who is also the defacto leader of the organisation in Ogun East Senatorial District did not yield the assistance required. He responded to my request for assistance with an excuse that he was celebrating his recent release from detention at a party in his place and that the boys who were not there had gone on out night patrol. And quite rightly, I could hear the noise of music in the background. Imole was in charge of security for pipelines of the Nigerian National Petroleum Company from Shagamu to Ore in Ondo State. It was a blow to me, because Imole is someone who had intervened in several armed robbery cases along the Shagamu/Benin Expressway before. He has had several encounters with the police as well for what they, funny enough, claimed was not his job, but which they were not willing at the time to do, especially when people were under attack. Once I call him, pronto he would be on the way with his men to assist those in distress. But on this night, I could not be assisted.

As in any battle, when a reprieve or ceasefire happens, you need to take stock immediately and weigh the options. This made me to reduce my speed as I made my way towards the last major junction along the expressway in Shagamu as one heads towards the old toll gate in the direction of Abeokuta. First, there was no attempt whatsoever from the Governor to send help despite the fact that my first call while the killers were still on my heels was to his Chief Detail. The only move to assist came from Moibi. As I was weighing my options, Julius, called back to ask if all was well and where I was. My answer was in the affirmative, but without an answer to his second question. I simply ended the conversation because I was angry. Why should this happen to me? Why was help not sent? In situations like these one often would not want to believe the obvious. Deep down in me, I knew an attack from within had taken place. But as if in a trance, my question remained, who dared to undertake this kind of assignment against me? My mind went to a warning given to me in private by a senior security official attached to the Governor in November 2008. We were in the Governor’s Shagamu residence on the day in question as he pulled me aside and spoke in a very low but concerned voice; “Babalawo, I know you are a very strong man. But my brother, watch your back. I like you and I wont tell you more than that.” Coming from a senior figure among the law enforcement officials around the Governor, it should have shaken me. But my friend was shocked to hear my response: “I know wetin dey. Make you no worry. God dey.” Briefly, I told him my suspicions and made him aware I was also planning my exit before anything untoward happened.

It was after these thoughts that I made a final decision. And shortly arriving at that decision, I called my wife who went hysterical pleading that I change my mind. My decision, as I informed her, was to go after the assassins who came for me. If they succeed in killing me, so be it. I will never run away from persons who seem to want to quietly put me down for an offence I did not commit after four years of selfless service to the system. As she was interrupting me, my firm instruction was what I had often told her: To be buried beside my dad in Ijebu Ife. And that no matter what, the children should be encouraged to know the place as home in case I did not make it. I subsequently cut her off. She tried calling back, disturbing an important call I wanted to make. She, apparently, alerted my immediate elder brother, Dayo, because his calls, which I ignored also came through. I just pressed the end button without accepting any of the calls. Eventually, I got through to the person I was trying to reach. But it was a very big disappointment.

The major blow of the events of that night of January 10, 2009 came from the state OPC Chairman, Mr. Musediq Jimoh, who is currently the Vice Chairman of Abeokuta South Local Government Council. I did not have his number on my BlackBerry. It was a senior cadre of the organisation in Abeokuta, who also doubled as my CSO when I was the Director of Organisation of the Peoples Democratic Party Ogun State, Tyson (nom de guere), that my call went to for onward transmission to Muse, as we call him. His response was to the effect that Muse claimed he was in Sango Otta for a family meeting, and not in Abeokuta.

Haba!, I complained to Tyson over the phone. “When did not being in town became a hindrance to sending some assistance my way given the explanations I had made about the attempt on my life.!” What I requested for was simple: Four tested cadres with the right equipment to join me in going after the assassins. I wanted to hunt them down that night. And since Imole was not favourably disposed to giving me assistance, Abeokuta should not be a problem. Ijebu Ode, where Akeem (Igwe) held sway as Chairman was out of it, not just because of distance. I suspect he was too close to the Commissioner for Water Resources & Rural Development, Akogun Kola Onadipe (more on the man later). In my haste to get assistance from Abeokuta, I forgot that Muse had been brought under Onadipe’s wing. Muse closed the discussion with Tyson henceforth, and I had to park the car by the roadside in frustration and anger.

If my driver, Kayode, had been in the car, I felt sure we would have tackled the six men or even if they had been more. He is from Ijebu Ife like myself and was a tested hand. A former driver, Rasak, and I had successfully tackled some armed robbers on the Lagos/Ibadan Expressway before. And it was about a few minutes to 10pm. A colleague, Siji Oyesile, was returning to Lagos for the weekend and my usual voice insisted I escort him up to the Redemption Camp before turning back. Despite the barricades put on the road by the robbers, I created enough room for Siji to escape with his car, while myself and Rasak got down and engaged the robbers. Similar scenes had taken place on the Shagamu/Benin Expressway between the men of the underworld and my car in the past too. It was not a big deal once you are prepared and the number against you is not up to 20. To me, only persons bent on suicide would wait after at least eight out of 20 of them would have died in an encounter. In addition, it is very doubtful if help would not have come in such a situation because it would have taken more time.

In the current case, what I needed was an additional hand like that. I simply needed one or two more people to get to the root of the matter. My plan was simple. Take all of them out to recover one or more dead bodies with which to trace who coordinated the attack and from there to get definitive evidence of the person that gave the order for my death. In arriving at a decision to call Tyson again, I had told myself that if the man should agree to come, I’ll drive toward the interchange on the way to Abeokuta to wait for him. Tyson agreed to come alone. There was nobody else willing to come. He also did not have anything on him, not even access to a vehicle that could fast track his movement to where I was so that the assassins would not get away. It was with a heavy heart I agreed to drive down to Abeokuta in Ake to pick him up from the state OPC secretariat. I drove like a mad person to make it back on time as my elder brother, Dayo also called persistently. But I did not answer the phone knowing fully well that my wife would have alerted him to the decision to go after the assassins.

Despite the late hour, Ake was busy. I had to turn and park by the local government secretariat instead of going to the OPC base to pick Tyson up. While waiting for him, a young acquaintance, who is a political appointee in Abeokuta South Local Government saw my vehicle and stopped. He wanted to share plesantries but was shocked to see the bullet holes: one through the windscreen and the other through the bonnet of the car. Initially, I was very rude to him because of my state of mind. But I apologised and refused to answer questions from him again. Tyson soon joined me. But there was no extra gun. However, we had two cutlasses, which he could use in case of a close encounter that one was trying to avoid. On getting back to the Shagamu/Benin Expressway, my instruction to Tyson was to concentrate on the traffic coming from the Ijebu Ode end in watching out for any vehicle with Ogun State Government plate numbers. I did same on our side of the road as well as we headed towards Ilishan junction. By this time, I had called Moibi back to ask that he joined us at Ilishan with his men.

Unfortunately, maybe we missed ourselves, but we did not see Moibi or his people till we drove back to Ijebu Ife through the same route I had taken earlier to pass the night. When we got to where I believed was the spot of the attack, we looked around without any physical sign whatsoever that anything happened there earlier. But I counted up to five local people who were watching from a safe distance in front of their houses along the road that night. Tyson pleaded we return to Abeokuta. But I responded with a firm no. I needed to complete the trail and also assure the young men of my home town who had heard about the attack from my driver to calm down.

As if Tyson’s premonition would come true, shortly before the first bridge after Irolu Town towards Ago Iwoye, the car engine suddenly stopped. It was the kind of scenario that happens when the engine is shut down by a remote system. A brand new car, which was less than a year old just packing up like that? Initially, I felt that a bullet may have pierced the engine. But no matter what, the promise I had from God was to see me through what was coming. Since He has given me the grace to do the needful, I felt certain the car would roar back to life. I turned the key in the ignition and it roared back to life. But Tyson was shaken and I pitied him. It was mostly in silence we rode back to Ijebu Ife, while keeping an eye out for the assassins who I believed might have deployed others to monitor my movements from the town earlier. Upon getting to my village, Okeliwo, I composed a text message which I sent to the Governor. He called back shortly after that, about a few minutes past 12 midnight. He asked if I was okay and I responded in the affirmative. That was all. It was in my house in Okeliwo we discovered the bullet lodged in the hydraulic system. In fact, it was God’s grace again because the steering of the car became stiff from Ago Iwoye onwards till we got to Ijebu Ife that night.

Micro-seconds from death (I)

Chapter One

Ziggy[1] from within

Surviving an assassination plot is not new. It depends on fate, the calibre of the person concerned and sometimes excellent work by law enforcement agencies in detecting the plot on time. Because those who kill others for a fee are not ghosts, they are often bound to make mistakes either before or after the criminal act. In certain instances, there have been others who survive such acts with injuries. But survive they did, to live another day. Politicians, journalists, judges and ordinary political activists have often been targets of assassins sent by persons with an axe to grind or secrets to keep. The other category, which most of those targeted could hardly escape from, is that directed at an insider within an organisation. Even if the person survives, there are two major things to battle with: security and repairs to damage in his credibility.

Sponsors of assassinations could be likened to the King of Darkness, who abhors any kind of light around his/her person. Secrecy and cover ups using every available means at their disposal forms the deep cover of darkness around them. Whoever, directly or indirectly tries to shine some light through information into their activities will most likely be put down in the most ruthless of manners. Physical elimination of the information bearer remains the first option here. But where this has become impossible, everything will be done to damage the credibility of the person with the ability to open up on the King of Darkness hiding among minions ready to do their Master’s bidding at the snap of two fingers. The scenario painted has not been different for me since that night of Saturday, 10 January 2009 when I was almost killed by six gunmen in Ilishan Remo, Ogun State, Nigeria.

Fate played a very crucial role in my being alive after the attack. Till date, the circumstances surrounding the attack and my survival are issues, which constitute serious spiritual lessons for me. They shattered some previously held spiritual assumptions, while strengthening others that shaped my growing up years. But in more ways than one, given the events preceding that night and the attack itself, till date I am still trying to find answers to critical issues raised in my adopted Christian faith unlike the Islam I was born into, which does not need any explanation. It is the same thing with my native Yoruba beliefs, which clashed with Christianity to a point of no return that night. Although some light are being shed through some Christian friends into this issues that I have dubbed, an intersection of faiths, it might take a while before it finally sinks in given the disdain that one had treated traditional beliefs with in the past.

But barely 48 hours after the attempt to assassinate me, some faceless agents of the Governor, Otunba Gbenga Daniel, began a campaign of calumny to water down the expected negative public opinion against the attack. Text messages to discredit me began circulating on Monday, 12 January 2009 claiming among others that: “There was no attack on Wale Adedayo. He planned what he claimed happened with members of the OPC to stop the governor from sacking him.” I was not surprised. It was something I had expected, given my knowledge of the man I had worked with so closely in the last four years. But my thoughts were concentrated on safety first, ahead of any other thing as only the living can give a proper account of what happened later, no matter how long.

The negative texts were reinforced with word of mouth propaganda especially among persons within the OGD system in Ogun Central and Ogun East Senatorial Districts. But it was more prevalent in Abeokuta. The claims insisted on the ‘fact’ that the attack designed to kill me was staged-managed to gain public sympathy. This was after spirited efforts to bury what happened had failed woefully as the story was published by most newspapers on Monday, a little over 30 hours after the attack. But the ziggy could not be sustained with most people refusing to buy the theory. In an ironic twist of fate, some policemen and State Security Service (SSS) officials serving in the government sent solidarity messages and counselled that I leave town immediately. Of course, some loyal party cadres were shocked and wanted revenge. And contrary to advice from my SSS and police friends, I travelled round again to calm a number of the boys down. They should not take on one another, I counselled, as not everyone has the nerve or principle to reject certain instructions.

With the reality dawning on the set of amateur ziggy operatives being used that the attack could not be covered up, towards the evening of the same day, they invented another theory: It was an armed robbery attack, which the police were already investigating. This was what they held on to for a long time with the Commissioner for Information & Orientation, Mr. Kayode Samuel, and Security Adviser to the Governor, Alhaji Lamidi Odulawa, addressing a press conference to confirm it a few days later. But curiously enough, and as expected in similar cases, the police was not part of the press conference. The Vice Chancellor of Olabisi Onabanjo University, Prof. Odutola Osilesi, his driver and a security aide of the VC were at the press conference, where they told the invited journalists that it was the official car snatched from them the robbers used to attack me. According to them, this explains the car with Ogun State Government licensed plate number that I saw.

The VC’s driver said he was made to lie face down in the car as the robbers drove away with it. This was a measure to ensure the car did not stop due to security measures which could have been installed in it. The driver confirmed the exchange of gunfire between the robbers and I. He also confirmed that the robbers lamented the death of one of them in the gunfire exchange. But I will always dispute this claim because there is no doubt that the other two will die of their injuries, if they did not do so immediately given the spot of the bullets on their bodies. According to the driver, the ‘armed robbers’ went back to the scene after returning from chasing me to pick up their dead colleague. The man gave a graphic account of what he believed was happening until he was dropped off at a point by the robbers who did not kill him. For him, it was God’s grace and mercy that saved him as he later wandered around until he could locate his boss. With his statement, the OGD Administration believed it had finally collapsed arguments that it was an assassination attempt.

Of course, the VC and his men could be excused. They were unaware that one of the strategies of a ‘perfect assassination’ on the road was to feign armed robbery attack. The first or second vehicle ahead of a target one is attacked before descending on the victim of an assassination. But none of those in the first wave of attacks would be killed, except in extra-ordinary circumstances. In attacking the first set of victims who would not be killed, instructions and threats from the ‘armed robbers’ should happen. This will not be so for the main target, who will be killed with his/her vehicle snatched to make the robbery theory believable. Nonetheless, the vehicle will be found later either within Nigeria or in the neighbouring Benin Republic because there was no need for it in the first place. It was a strategy designed to take out two members of the Ogun State House of Assembly in 2008, but which failed, apparently, due to a superior spiritual strength by one the proposed victims, Hon. Wale Alausa (Ijebu Ode State Constituency). Dr. Tokunbo Oshin (Ijebu Igbo State Constituency) would have joined Alausa had the plot against the legislator from Ijebu Ode succeeded. Their sins: membership of the Group of 15 legislators opposed to the strong arm tactics of the governor.

When the Samuel-organised press conference did not stop the whisperings about the attack, especially the fact that it was organised from within, another ziggy spinning began. Shortly after my resignation, informal information dissemination from within the OGD system to the media and other opinion moulders was a reversal to the first ziggy that I stage-managed the attack. They claimed I shot at my windscreen from the inside of the car, and that I was never attacked. Funny enough, not one of those being fed this theory asked why bullets from a Pump Action Rifle that I held made one entry each into the windscreen and my car’s bonnet. Being pellets, a bullet from a PAR scatters, creating little holes over a wide area when the target is close. But the bullet marks on my vehicle was a single entry to the windscreen and another one on the bonnet of the car.

Financial and material inducements to those invited to hear their own side of the story became the order of the day with a number of individuals and organisations falling over themselves to get a share of the Abeokuta largesse. Choice cars were combined with pecuniary benefits to make the OGD system’s stories believable. It was another Gen. Sani Abacha circus all over again. I was labelled a blackmailer, with claims that it was a failed attempt to get money from the governor which made me release the information that I was attacked. More on this later. Hitherto trusted friends joined the largesse train with some of them doing volunteer ziggy jobs in Lagos and elsewhere to run me down. The belief that one had made so much money while there made a lot of converts for OGD. It was also confirmed that I should have been replaced as the Chief Press Secretary to the Governor for inefficiency and embezzlement of funds since late 2008. The ziggy promoters claimed it was a fear of being replaced, which necessitated my allegations of being attacked. More, also, on this later.

Not done with that, an Ogun State executive meeting of the Oodua Peoples Congress (OPC) Gani Adams faction was called in Abeokuta where it was ‘revealed’ to the militant group’s officials that I have been sitting on N76.8m meant as monthly disbursement to its cadres in the state since January 2005 at a rate of N1.6m per month. Of course, there was no truth in this. It was only the leader of the group, Gani Adams, that the governor gave instructions for a monthly allowance of one million naira (N1m) for. The funds come from the Commissioner for Special Duties, Chief Kola Sorinola, who had been briefed by the governor to that effect. But I was the conduit for transferring the money. It is possible the state OPC officials complained about nothing getting to them before this ziggy of ‘chopping’ their money was released at the meeting. But instead of the intended effect of getting OPC members in Ogun State to go after me, the discussions there were dutifully relayed by a number of them who knew about my selfless contributions to the organisation despite the betrayal by its top echelon.

The national head of the herbalists of the same OPC, Asegongo, who is based in Abeokuta and has been involved in a lot of spiritual assistance to the governor, was also told that the governor sent five million naira (N5m) to him through me. Unlike the executive members who took the information given to them with a pinch of salt, the man believed the story. I had cause to call Asegongo following his father’s death shortly after the lies fed to him that whatever was intended for me spiritually will always go back to the senders. They were naïve to believe that any herbalist for that matter was my strength. I knew one was in Egypt and among very strong Egyptians. But given my background, they were never my strength. Doing what was necessary on errand for the political survival of an unappreciative boss was different from forgetting my roots. As with the Ogun State OPC executive members, the reason for making the false claim about the money was to induce the herbalist against me. He was induced, no doubt. But God has continued to protect me from every spiritual attack from that quarter till date.

It was the same ziggy with a number of senior journalists, especially Editors, who naively believed the packaged lies against me – all in a vain attempt to discredit my person and whatever story one might release later. But the most audacious of the ziggy was the use of the Publisher of Conscience International magazine, Chief Abiola Ogundokun, to discredit me. The man enjoyed patronage for his magazine from the OGD Administration before my entry into the system. But the patronage apparently became an under the table deal after my appointment. Ogundokun was to be appreciated by OGD later after his many exchanges with me on the social networking site, Facebook, where he uses a fake name to attack my person. I understand some senior officials of government represented the government at a chieftaincy ceremony by Ogundokun in his hometown, Iwo, Osun State in 2009. But a detailed account of my encounter with Ogundokun and similar responses to his lies against me are contained in a forthcoming book.

Leaving the shores of Nigeria for Cardiff, United Kingdom in September 2009 was a mixture of relief and sadness for my family and I. But my wife and I felt it was time to actualise a long held dream of publishing a magazine, from the UK and also activate a security measure to safeguard one’s life. Given our dire financial straits, we had to sell our only house in Lagos at a very ridiculous amount to do what we had to do. We also sold two of our cars. But interestingly enough, efforts to get reporters for the magazine, Uhuru, in the UK was almost frustrated by OGD’s admirers, who had circulated a malicious rumour that my trip to the UK and the magazine were sponsored by the governor. A number of people kept away from me after this episode in classical propaganda. It was only in the night of our first editorial meeting in a restaurant in Brixton did the opportunity of presenting my case – first hand- come for me. Before then, I was labelled an ingrate who took money from OGD and trying to paint the same man black.

Even before then, almost everyone was keeping away from us before my trip to the UK. Some out of fear of being labelled our friend, thus becoming targets of ‘armed robbers’, while others belong to a school of thought with the belief that one did not share ‘stolen’ government funds with them. The last category was the Abeokuta converts who were the evangelists of the propaganda being fed a gullible system about me. Nonetheless, there remains an individual using a fake name, Lagbaja Ola, on an internet forum, Naijapolitics, where he made claims that I killed a lady and buried her in my Ijebu Ife home for rituals. This was well circulated by the OGD system as another example of how discredited I was. But till date, and despite repeated demands to substantiate his allegations, the faceless writer has not done so. Initially, I was made to believe the Commissioner for Youths & Sports, Mr. Bukola Olopade, was responsible. It later proved incorrect. Indications suggest the person is one of the Correspondents of a national newspaper in Abeokuta, who enjoyed generous patronage from me during my stay in the Ogun State capital.

And recently, despite claims of embezzlement against me, fresh efforts are being made to twist facts of loans I took from some financial institutions. According to the newly appointed Commissioner for Information & Orientation, Mr. Sina Kawonise, the debts meant nobody should believe anything from me. But he did not explain the reason  for his infantile argument, except to claim that most of the things OGD is being accused of were orchestrated by me. 

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[1] In the OGD Administration, ziggy simply means the political equivalent of 419, i.e deception to achieve a political end.