In several pockets of human history, groups and individuals who assume
the status of aristocrats have claimed the significant privilege of
insulting others. They are so used to the exercise of this privilege
that they get agitated when their targets of insults reply. Indeed, they
expect those whose dignity they assault to calmly play patsy, bowing in
genuflection. Apparently, our lordly neighbours in Nigeria assume more
than that. They are claiming the privilege of deciding which academics
are worthy of their vocation. All of these traits seem to emerge from
Bala Usman’s blatant affronts on the Niger Delta and the angry reactions
from his peers against those who have dared to challenge Bala Usman’s
misconceived theories and assertions.
Bala Usman’s two instalments of insults were published from his “Centre
for Democratic Development, Research, and Training,” which is virtually
the only remnant of the Centre for Democratic Studies that Omo Omoruyi
founded and headed under Ibrahim Babangida’s military regime. Although
it has received substantial financial backing from the Federal
Government of Nigeria, the main achievement of this Centre has been a
spate of abuses of various individuals and ethnic groups, mainly those
of Southern Nigeria. The authors who publish in its medium are few and
unvaried. The latest instalment in this tirade was an unprovoked attack
by Bala Usman on the Niger Delta, pinpointing the Urhobo and describing
as “laughable” the thought that Urhobo existed before 1938.
This “Ignorance” diatribe was circulated in the internet on April 18,
2001. My reply to Bala Usman’s assertions appeared in the internet on
April 29, 2001. A week later, I received an email message from an
intellectual of Yoruba origin living in the United Kingdom to the effect
that those whom he described as “Arewa mandarins” were unhappy with my
essay and that they will reply in full force. Since then several other
Niger Deltans have responded to Bala Usman’s claims and attacks on the
Niger Delta.
Now Bala Usman’s supporters and defenders have come forward with their
defence, at least two of them for a start. A month after Niger Deltans’
reactions to Bala Usman’s claims began to pour in, Sola Fasure’s premier
defence of Bala Usman appeared in the Comet of June 5, 2001. It was
simply titled “In Defence of Bala Usman.” Nine days later, and published
in the internet in the first instance in
http://www.gamji.com and
http://www.nigerdeltacongress.com, an angrier defence has come from a
more formidable personage in the aristocratic firmament. Using similar
phrases – such as “laughable” -- as in Bala Usman’s original essays,
Sanusi Lamido Sanusi defended his peer with pronouncements and judgement
of doom over the qualifications of the man he saw as Bala Usman’s
primary critic, in a field far removed from his banking profession.
Apparently doubting its authenticity, his title of ‘Usman, Ekeh, and
the Urhobo “Nation”’ uses quotes to support Bala Usman’s abusive
characterization of a whole ethnic group in the Niger Delta. These two
defences of Bala Usman appear formatted from a common talking point and
are remarkably similar in their strategies.
THE DEFENCE OF BALA USMAN
First, Bala Usman’s defenders do not accept in any shape or form that
Bala Usman has offended Niger Deltans. Sola Fasure has grievances
against Bala Usman. But they have nothing to do with the complaints of
Niger Deltans that they have been unjustly disparaged. Instead, he
narrates how Bala Usman used his enormous influences during the Sani
Abacha military dictatorship to cancel a conference that he was
organizing at the University of Ibadan, because Bala Usman disapproved
of its French funding. It is amazing to me that Fasure could rate so
high the inconvenience of not holding a conference that was cancelled at
the behest of Bala Usman and yet brush aside complaints from Niger
Deltans that Bala Usman has made grossly insupportable claims about
their existence and their ownership of the lands in which their
ancestors have lived from times immemorial.
Second, Bala Usman’s defenders support his claim that the Nigerian State
owns the Niger Delta. While this support is implicit in Lamido Sanusi’s
praise of “brilliant points made by Bala Usman,” Fasure was explicit in
support of Bala Usman. He says: “the Nigerian state is superior to the
ethnic groups and therefore have a superior claim to the land and the
resources there-in.” This is the essence, of course, of the interests of
those fighting for the control of the Niger Delta. It is striking that
throughout Fasure’s remarkable essay, there is the incredible assumption
that the Nigerian State means Abuja. The truth of the matter is, the
states of the Niger Delta are part of the Nigerian State and their
control of the resources of the Niger Delta would in no way violate
Fasure’s dictum. This is an intellectual stance that neither Bala Usman
nor Lamido Sanusi nor anyone else can validly argue against from the
premise of political science and its understanding of the meaning of the
state. No one in the Niger Delta has asked for the control of the
resources in the Niger Delta by ethnic groups in the region. What Niger
Deltans have asked for is that their states, rather than the central
government at Abuja, should control their resources. What is wrong with
such reasoning in a federation? Is that not what happens with groundnuts
and cocoa? Was that not the position of Alhaji Sir Ahmadu Bello whose
dominant influence led to the construction of Nigerian federalism in the
1950s?
Third, Sanusi and Fasure brushed aside any issues raised by Niger
Deltans that did not touch on the all-important matter of resource
control and the related issue of the definition of Nigerian ethnic
groups vis-a-vis Nigeria. Fasure did take important matters into
consideration in these two areas. The banking chieftain Lamido Sanusi
was more limited in his angry essay. He was satisfied with issuing
pronouncements and further insults. Both Fasure and Sanusi also ignored
the important corrections by several Niger Deltans of faulty claims by
Bala Usman. Sola Fasure allowed only one item of inaccuracy, which
probably inconvenienced him the most. It was in my reaction to Bala
Usman. Fasure turns to the portion on the Yoruba in my essay, in which I
was least interested, and says as follows: “[Ekeh] tries hard to fault
Usman's data on the authorship of the word ‘Yoruba’ and used the
inaccuracies he identified to upend Usman's principal thesis that:
ethnic identity as we know it in Nigeria today is a recent historical
development.” Is this the only inaccuracy in Bala Usman’s essays that
Sola Fasure could read from all the reactions from Niger Deltans? Does
he accept that the British donated the term “Urhobo” to the Urhobo in
1938? Or is it just possible that Fasure thinks that this inaccuracy
from Bala Usman is of little consequence, whereas the “Yoruba”
inaccuracy was more consequential?
Various important contributions on this subject included those by
Nigerian Publius, the pen name for an Ibibio chieftain [The Guardian May
7, 2001: “CEDDERT and The Misrepresentation of Facts”], Andrew Edevbie
[Vanguard, May 24-25, 2001: “Bala and His Rule-Book for Nigerian
Politics”], G. G. Darah [The Guardian, May 14, 2001: “Bala Usman:
History Will Absolve Us”], and Chris Akiri, [The Guardian, May 22, 2001:
“Bala Usman and the Urhobo Nation.”] These contributions posed important
questions with regard to Bala Usman’s assertions on the Niger Delta. It
is unclear whether Lamido Sanusi and Sola Fasure accept the various
points raised by these authors or whether they considered their
contributions as unworthy of their attention. Sanusi’s position that he
treated my essay as representative of Bala Usman’s critics cannot help
matters when my objections to Bala Usman’s claims do not overlap with
those of these writers. Instead of answering these writers’ worthy
points of protest, both defenders of Bala Usman took the calculated
decision to concentrate on what they perceived as inconsistencies in my
scholarship.
Colonialism, Ethnicity, and Precolonial Nations
I am intrigued -- and amused -- by Fasure’s and Sanusi’s mystification
of my Inaugural Lecture of 1980 at the University of Ibadan, titled
Colonialism and Social Structure, in their defence of Bala Usman’s
claims. Sanusi was particularly excited, declaring that I had committed
“intellectual suicide” and that I had made an “intellectual blunder.”
Essentially, these men have made two claims. The first is that my
inaugural lecture was a source of Bala Usman’s assertions on the lack of
any history or nationhood for the Yoruba, Urhobo, Ijaw, and the Igbo –
his prime examples -- before the arrival of colonialism. The second is
that my position of 1980 was the same one that Bala Usman was stating in
his two essays in 2000 and 2001. Let me take on these specious
contentions, one after the other.
Sanusi makes the first argument as follows. He argues that given the
position I took in my inaugural lecture of 1980, I ought “to boldly
support Bala Usman whose thesis was nothing but a reproduction of the
theme of Ekeh's own brilliant 1980 paper” [emphasis added]. I am fairly
well known in Nigerian academic circles. If what Sanusi asserts here is
correct, how was it that Bala Usman did not cite this “brilliant paper”
whose theme was allegedly reproduced by him? Bala Usman cited a huge
number of Nigerian authorities in his expansive contentions. I was not
among them. I am sure that Lamido Sanusi is a brilliant man. But he is a
banker. I do not expect him to have read my inaugural lecture or any
other publication of mine before this 1980 paper was handed over to him
in the wake of my response to Bala Usman. It is clear to me that he was
confused in his understanding of that paper.
Both Sanusi and Fasure say that what Bala Usman has written is identical
with my 1980 position. It is fair to say that my 1980 lecture has been
widely used and cited in academic circles in Nigeria and in the wider
sphere of African studies. It has not been attacked in any serious
fashion up till now. I can assure both Sanusi and Fasure that if I had
made the same arguments as Bala Usman, my theory would have been
shredded by now, just as Bala Usman’s obnoxious positions are now being
challenged. I have no desire to cite passages from my lecture of 1980
nor its 1975 predecessor, “Colonialism and the Two Publics in Africa: A
Theoretical Statement.” But I will state its arguments in a way that
will inform the reader of my theoretical position. I regret that I have
to resort to the tedium of theory, but I suppose I have no choice in the
circumstances of the present campaign on behalf of Bala Usman’s position
that relies solely on the vilification of my scholarship.
I was a witness to colonialism, having been born in its midst and having
been educated in its schools. It was my contention in the 1970s and
1980s that colonialism had impacted our history in ways that had not
been fully recognized. I will give two examples here from the 1980
lecture. First, consider rulership in African societies. Before
colonialism, the British dealt with African rulers as kings, addressing
them in correspondence as “Your Majesty.” But under colonial rule, they
became chiefs, losing their title of “majesty” and now addressed as
“Royal Highness” – the title reserved for minor categories in British
royalty. Moreover, in precolonial times, traditional African kings were
dependent on the people for their legitimacy, and indeed were
accountable to their people in their behaviours. Under colonial rule,
the chiefs were accountable to the alien rulers, not to their people.
This is an epochal change. That does not mean that it was good. On the
contrary, I believe that it was bad. The same logic applied to ethnic
groups. Before colonial rule, nations -- which British anthropologists,
retrospectively, were pleased to call tribes -- existed on their own.
Under colonial rule they were conjoined in the same political space,
reducing their status to those of ethnic groups. Before colonial rule,
there was no interaction between the Igbo and the Yoruba. Under
colonialism, they became ethnic groups in the same political process –
ideationally, a diminution in status from nationhood to ethnicity.
I believe any Nigerian of my generation will agree to the validity of
this formulation. And it has largely been accepted. Let me give further
examples from the cases of the Igbo and Yoruba because Lamido Sanusi
seems particularly exercised by my views in these cases. There has
always been a core Igbo nationality – with its base in the Anambra
Valley. In the nineteenth century, that is before the British arrived,
Igbo societies were being transformed from two directions. Western Igbo
was under Benin hegemony, politically cut off from eastern Igboland. But
there was a greater upheaval in Igbo history that Kenneth Dike has
recorded. In the later part of the 19th century, particularly in the
1880s and 1890s, there was a huge population movement from the Benue
Valley into Igboland. This is how Kenneth Dike recorded this aspect of
Igbo history:
The northern branch [of increase in Igbo population] was a
direct result of the slave trade. The indigenous home of the
Ibos, which lies mainly to the east of the Niger valley, is
within the forest belt where the calvary used . . . in annual
slave-raids could not operate. These raids were conducted
mainly in the plains north of the forest region, and were
organized from Kano, Sokoto, Bida, and Ilorin. They inevitably
led to the movement of tribes, south of the Benue to
inaccessible areas and places of safety such as the Ibo forest
area provided. (Kenneth Dike, Trade and Politics in the Niger
Delta 1830-1885. An Introduction to the Economic and Political
History of Nigeria, 1956: 27)
That is, according to Dike’s view, there were fresh immigrants into Igbo
country who were still learning to access their ways into Igbo culture
at the onset of British colonialism. There was therefore nothing
mysterious about Eluwa’s position that I quoted from David Abernerthy in
my lecture. What colonialism did was to provide space for the
recomposition of Igbos from both sides of the Niger as well as to enable
the fresh immigrants from the Benue Valley to integrate steadily into
Igbo culture.
The Yoruba case was more settled. But Ekiti was distant from hardcore
Yoruba in Oyo, for which the term Yoruba was applied in precolonial
times. Again, the Benin presence was significant in eastern Yoruba
periphery. Under colonialism, there was an expansion of Yoruba
ethnicity, even into the periphery.
Now, clearly the above statements do not represent Bala Usman’s
position. First of all, my lecture was on African political theory, not
on Nigerian history. I used Nigerian cases to illustrate theoretical
positions that I enunciated. The lecture is one of three well-known
papers of mine that have dealt with colonialism in Africa. (The other
two papers are “Colonialism and the Two Publics in Africa: A Theoretical
Statement” and “Social Anthropology and Two Contrasting Uses of
Tribalism in Africa.”) None of these three papers was about the history
of Nigeria. Bala Usman was not enunciating a theory of African politics.
He was dealing with his understanding of the political history of
Nigeria.
Second, there was no place, even by way of examples, where I contended
that there was no African history before colonial rule. Four years
before my inaugural lecture, I authored a chapter, titled “Benin and
Thebes: Elementary Forms of Civilization,” in a book published in 1976
by Yale University Press. It was a comparison of Benin royal practices
to Sophocles’s Oedipus Rex of ancient Greece. That was an academic piece
that acknowledged connections between Benin and Yoruba histories dating
back to several centuries. On the other hand, Bala Usman contended that
the Yoruba had no name until it was given to them in the nineteenth
century. Let us quote him again: “But it was from a book of the Sarkin
Musulmi Bello, written in the early nineteenth century, that the name
[Yoruba] became more widely used.” That is a pretty serious statement.
I must stop this train of analysis here. I have no desire to lend any
weight to the trivialization of the Niger Delta situation by reducing
its seriousness to mere academic arguments. We are dealing with
endangered human lives and human cultures in the Niger Delta. It is not
some smart academic matter. I have said enough to calm down Lamido
Sanusi – if ever he will listen – from his brash judgement that my
attack on Bala Usman’s claims on the Niger Delta constituted an
“intellectual suicide.”
THE BREAKDOWN IN NIGERIA’S NATIONAL CONSENSUS
Of the many letters that I received on the Bala Usman episode, one was
particularly perceptive. Ayo Obe, President of Civil Liberties
Organisation, sent a note on this issue that included the following
thought: “I am glad, though, that Usman's article got read by some
people other than the converted. The sad thing is that most of those
who will read your article are those who would agree with you in any
case. What we need is more preaching to the unconverted - and perhaps
some attempt to change minds?”
I doubt that any amount of persuasion will change Bala Usman and Lamido
Sanusi’s attitudes towards the Niger Delta. I first came across Lamido
Sanusi’s views on the Niger Delta in 1999. G. G. Darah had written an
article in The Guardian of May 31, 1999, complaining that the "real and
original Niger Delta" had been slighted in government’s appointments to
key positions in the petroleum industry. A few weeks later, Lamido
Sanusi wrote a rejoinder rebuking Darah. This was my comment in another
venue on July 4, 1999, on Sanusi’s rejoinder: “What I found troubling in
reading Mr. Sanusi's well-reasoned article was his tone of reference to
the [Niger] Delta areas. There was considerable condescension.” Neither
Lamido Sanusi nor Bala Usman seems to have any less spite for the Niger
Delta today than Sanusi displayed in June 1999.
Are we therefore not engaged in a conversation of the deaf? Are we
listening to the points of view offered from the opposing side? I
believe that the problem is deeper and more fundamental than the views
of a few individuals at opposite ends of a national spectrum of ideas.
What the Bala Usman episode confirms in my mind is that there is a
complete breakdown in Nigeria’s national consensus. A nation exists and
survives because there is at least a modicum of a national consensus
embodying a measure of agreement on the principles on which its state’s
apparatuses should be run. There is no longer any such consensus in
Nigeria. Instead, there are two imageries of what the Nigerian State
should look like. Even if it is impossible to maintain mutual
conversation on the issues of ethnicity and other academic niceties, we
all may profit from understanding the outlines of the two contrasting
imageries of the Nigerian State that have emerged in our public affairs.
I will try my hands at their characterization.
Nigerian State as the Epiphenomenon of Military Rule
The Nigerian State that Bala Usman and Lamido Sanusi are fighting to
preserve is the outcome of prolonged military rule. It is a state that
has departed from the principles on which Nigerians fought for national
independence from Great Britain. At least, it is a organizational
phenomenon that is distant from what we experienced and expected at the
point of independence. I do not see any benefits or sources of strength
in this epiphenomenon of civilianized military rule. I will therefore
characterize it by its deficiencies. Maybe Bala Usman and Lamido Sanusi
will try their hands at displaying its strengths and its benefits.
First, the post-military Nigerian State is now completely hostile
towards the ordinary individual. The purpose of a progressive state is
to advance the welfare of individuals and to recognise and enhance their
humanity. The Nigerian State has lost this definition of its purpose.
Although it has signed tons of international treaties that preach
respect for the dignity of the individual, the Nigerian State now
engages in bestial treatment of the individual. It now appears that the
Nigerian State exists in its own essence, with no obligation towards its
citizens.
All these points may sound theoretical. So, let me give examples. I
never imagined that I would be a citizen of a country in which a man’s
hand is cut off for stealing a goat or in a Nigeria in which amputation
machines become a priority in the budget reckoning of state officials. I
thought such wicked things happened far way in primitive Eurasian
societies. The other day, an old colleague from Scandinavia sent me an
email complaining that Nigeria had degenerated so badly to the point
where a judge could order that a man’s eye should be removed from him.
He asked me to do something about this sad development. I did not even
reply, because I have no response. The truth is, even formidable and
privileged people like Bala Usman and Lamido Sanusi cannot do anything
to stop this madness, if they are opposed to it. Nor can President
Olusegun Obasanjo. That is what is so frightening in this new and
unexpected disregard for human dignity in Nigeria. For now, the poor
Hausa peasant is the main victim of these outrages by the Nigerian
State. But its masters do not intend to have such a narrow boundary. We
can catalogue this matter further. Years ago, when he still cared about
such matters, Bala Usman produced a terrific book (Political Repression
in Nigeria, 1982) that detailed how ordinary people, including Ghanaian
immigrants, lost their lives in the hands of state officials. That was
shocking then. It no longer shocks. How many Nigerians die daily in
Police custody? How many Nigerians die yearly in Nigerian prisons? It
would make news if a Nigerian died in a UK prison. But Nigerians who die
in the hands of state officials seem fully qualified to be disposed of
carelessly. The Nigerian State, as of 2001, has become the epitome of
illiberalism in its total disregard for the value of human lives and for
its disrespect for the dignity of the human being.
Second, the Nigerian State that has emerged from years of military rule
is unjust. The political arrangements that were worked out at
independence have been violated and discarded. Instead, arbitrary and
perfunctory mechanisms have been substituted for the principles that
were carefully hatched out by Nigeria’s founding fathers. Although we
are supposed to be a federation, much power is concentrated in Abuja.
Abuja, which was built to wall out the ordinary citizen, rules all of us
from a distance. It does poorly and yet forbids other units from trying
aspects of governance in which it cannot cope. Just consider the Nigeria
Police, which is completely overwhelmed. The rational thing to do would
be to have a slim and efficient Federal Police that would cope with
Federal crimes, while leaving state and local matters to State Police.
But no, the Nigerian State must remain a feared leviathan – so it
pretends that it can cope with the problems of violence and crimes all
over the country.
The Nigerian State is unjust for another reason. It is arbitrarily
uneven. Some areas have tremendous and unchecked powers, while others
are barred from exercising their elementary rights to basic existence. I
will give two examples. Consider what President Olusegun Obasanjo did to
Odi Town in the Niger Delta. For no just cause, the innocent people of a
Nigerian town plying their lowly existence, disturbing no one, were
attacked by a mighty military machine because the Government said it
wanted to teach Niger Deltans a lesson. Now, we in the Niger Delta know
fully well that President Obasanjo would not dare carry out such an
arbitrary operation if Odi Town were in Sokoto State or Katsina State.
Indeed, in the very period in which the President ordered the invasion
of Odi Town, Zamfara State was defying the President’s views that a
Sharia regime would be unconstitutional. Let us put the matter some
other way. Can anybody doubt what President Obasanjo would do to any
Niger Delta state that attempted a Sharia regime in its realm? It is
such disparities in the dispensation of elementary justice that brings
disrespect from citizens to their “government.”
Let me give another instance of this type of injustice that maltreats
some citizens while treating others with reverence for doing the same
thing as those victimized. In his article under review, Lamido Sanusi
introduced Bala Usman as the “firebrand northern intellectual.” So he
has been, from the early 1970s – from the regimes of Yakubu Gowon and
General Obasanjo through Babangida and Abacha unto the present
civilianizied regime of President Olusegun Obasanjo. He has spoken his
mind, canvassed his views, fought Vice-Chancellors at ABU, and enjoyed
privileges. We should congratulate him. That is how things should be.
But there were many other firebrands, especially in the South, who could
match Bala Usman’s fearlessness. Where are they now? They have been
vanquished by the military. Many were hounded out of universities. Many
were jailed or detained for no just cause. A system that discards its
intellectuals because they have no protective aristocracy behind them is
unjust and will suffer the consequences of its evil deeds. As Nigerian
Publius wrote in his rejoinder to Bala Usman’s threats against the Niger
Delta, the quickest way to destroy Nigeria is to “Drive your
intelligentsia into exile in foreign countries, which they then help to
advance even faster than your own.”
That is my portrait of the Nigerian State that exists today. I can see
it clearly because I come from a disadvantaged region of the country.
Can Lamido Sanusi and Bala Usman not see it through the same lenses? I
fear that as beneficiaries of this flawed system, they are fighting
strenuously to protect it. My prayer is that they will relent so that
full reforms can occur for the restoration of a Nigeria that we all can
be proud of and work for. But let no one be urged to respect a state
system that is fast becoming an evil enterprise.
Reforming the Nigerian State: A New Imagery
I can be brief here. We need to reverse course. I know that it is not
easy. At the very least, we need to manage our destinies at the local
and state levels. The whole premise of Bala Usman’s original essays was
that only a solidified and unified Nigerian State, ruled from Abuja,
would be useful. My knowledge of history tells me that such a system –
which is the existing arrangement -- would not last. For Nigeria to last
and prosper, it must restore its purpose.
The greatness of Nigeria was that its diverse units had freedom to
govern themselves in their distinct ways. In the 1950s, Eastern Nigeria
decided to dispense with the House of Chiefs, whereas it was a great
institution in the North and West. We must recover that spirit of
diversity. Let every zone or state have its own constitution. Let no one
be afraid of diversity. We all should be Nigerians because we want to be
Nigerians, not because we are forced to be Nigerians. Legislated and
enforced patriotism has never worked anywhere or anytime in history. In
my days, I have seen Nigerians who loved the country with a passion.
Today, many such people have given up. Let us have new arrangements of a
genuine federalism that will allow us – and our children – to renew our
faith in a nation whose spirit has been wounded, severely.
Such a system may help to fight the expansion of the corrosive disregard
for the dignity of the individual human being. Let those states that
value their citizens invest in their welfare. At the present time,
Nigeria’s logic is to opt for the least common factor of development,
compelling all Nigerians to move at one slow pace. Let Abuja become a
small place, not another megalopolis from where orders are issued to
local and state governments.
Such a model of the new Nigeria will require that we all work for what
we own. The present system where some believe that wealth will come to
them automatically because they control Abuja will be reversed by true
federalism. This compact portrait is a viable and just alternative to
the present unjust and unsatisfactory system that dominates and
terrorizes our lives.
SOME CONCLUDING THOUGHTS: NIGER DELTA AND NIGERIA
On June 14, 2001, naijnews, Nigeria’s premier internet news service,
circulated an article by George Orwel of Dow Jones Newspapers on
President Olusegun Obasanjo and the oil industry. Its first three
sentences are worth quoting:
Nigerian President Olusegun Obasanjo once sought advice from
Fidel Castro, Cuba's president of 40 years, on survival
tactics. Castro reportedly told him to identify a cash cow,
then keep a close eye on it. Obasanjo related the story to
reporters recently and said oil was his cash cow, which he
plans to watch over closely.
Before Olusegun Obasanjo became a civilian President, other groups of
Nigerians had identified Niger Delta’s oil as their cash cow. It is
doubtful that the chummy relationship between President Obasanjo and his
allies, many of whom supported his unjust invasion and destruction of
Odi Town, would exist at all if the largesse of Niger Delta’s oil was
not available for spoliation. The current fight against the notion of
state governments’ control of mineral resources, including petroleum
oil, is fuelled by their determination to continue to direct the way
Nigeria’s wealth would be exclusively controlled from Abuja. Indeed, I
doubt that Bala Usman, Lamido Sanusi, and their peers would bother to
fight for Nigerian unity if Niger Delta’s oil were not available to
them. Bala Usman would not bother to spend his intellectual resources
for mounting his incredible theory of the geological formation of the
Niger Delta if there were no oil in Niger Deltans’ lands and waters.
What is so very frustrating in all of these circumstances is that these
beneficiaries of oil wealth now treat Niger Deltans, whose lands and
waters produce petroleum oil, as an inconvenience. They do not even
listen to cries of lives ruined by oil exploration. None of them would
have the courage to visit the Escravos to see the sludge and the utter
devastation foisted on the people by oil greed. Shell and Chevron are
unregulated in their conducts. Some compassionate foreigners have taken
up the battle for the survival of Niger Deltans affected by oil
exploration, while privileged Nigerians from a distance enjoy wealth
whose source they care little about. You will not come across anything
about Niger Delta’s huge problems of environmental degradation in the
pages of publications sponsored by Bala Usman’s well-financed “Centre
for Democratic Development, Research, and Training.”
The people and cultures of the Niger Delta may not last into the next
century if the current frenetic pace of destruction of their lives and
lands and waters continues unchecked. The Federal Government of Nigeria,
from Abuja, is uninterested in any propositions that will not increase
its largesse from the Niger Delta. It is very sad that Niger Deltans now
rely on foreign environmentalists to fight injurious policies mounted by
the Federal Government of Nigeria. Elsewhere there are threats that if
Niger Deltans do not stop complaining, military force will be used to
crush them. One of the most aggravating portions of Bala Usman’s
“Ignorance” essay was the barely hidden threat that Niger Deltans would
be reduced to the same amount of wretchedness as has been visited on
Native Americans. I must cite Nigerian Publius’s statement on this
score, in his reply to Bala Usman. He says,
It is far more preferable for those behind [CEDDERT’s]
deception [of teaching true history] to state their threats to
the people of the Niger Delta, in a very blunt manner, as they
did recently while purporting to pay tribute to Alhaji Aminu
Kano. In their subsequent paper (Ignorance, Knowledge and
Democratic Politics in Nigeria), Niger Deltans . . . were told
that if they want to be like America, non-indigenes would
march to the Niger Delta and kill off the original inhabitants
and take their oil.
Is it only Niger Deltans who are outraged by this brand of immoral
intellectualism? Has the rest of Nigeria become so immune to such
outrages that Nigerians cannot see the looming catastrophe in the Niger
Delta? No one should minimize the dangers. African history is replete
with instances of ruined lives and cultures for no reason other than the
fact that mineral resources were present in certain places. The
population of the Congo was reduced by half in three decades of King
Leopold II’s greedy rule in search of natural resources and wealth in
the Congo at the end of the nineteenth century and for a decade in the
twentieth. The Afrikaner’s apartheid regime in South Africa was fuelled
from that country’s gold mines. Niger Deltans would be most foolish to
leave things as they are simply because there are some brilliant
intellectuals, from “Centre for Democratic Development, Research, and
Training,” who will concoct theories in support of an evil state system.
Niger Deltans must embark on a campaign that will assure them that their
cultures and their people will survive into the next century and beyond.
The stakes are that high.
Peter P. Ekeh
Buffalo, USA
June 20, 2001.
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