The most important event in Nigeria in the last week has been the publication and public presentation in Abuja, of a book titled, A Journey in Service: An Autobiography of Ibrahim Babangida. In many ways, this should be perfectly understandable. General Babangida was Nigeria’s military ruler (1985-1993), although he styled himself President, to show, as he argues in this book, his preference for the presidential system of government. Since he “stepped aside,” as he claimed in 1993, and with rumoured and failed attempts to “step back” in 2007, IBB, as he is known, has remained topical and controversial in Nigerian politics. The big things around his neck include the assassination of Newswatch journalist, Dele Giwa, in October 1996 and the annulment of the June 12, 1993 presidential election, which he has now openly admitted was won by Chief MKO Abiola (pp. 390-391).
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General Babangida argues that “this is not a book about finding blame, inventing excuses or whitewashing known facts.”(p. xv). But that is precisely what the book is all about, for the most part. This is certainly not the first attempt to write General Babangida into the positive side of history, such enterprise has been quite an industry over the years for a number of intellectuals and non-intellectuals alike. The basic references in this regard would include Chidi Amuta’s Prince of the Niger: The Babangida Years, published in 1992 by Dr Yemi Ogunbiyi’s Tanus Communications. Interestingly, both Drs Amuta and Ogunbiyi are acknowledged in this book as two of Babangida’s friends who encouraged him to write A Journey In Service. The story is even more interesting with the reference to Dr Chidi Amuta, who after the annulment of the June 12 election, had written what sounded like a renunciation of Prince of the Niger in a scathing re-appraisal of Babangida’s presidency. Dr Amuta, like the alleluia chorus of praise-singers who attended the presentation of this book in Abuja, have with the benefit of hindsight, rediscovered their “Prince of the Niger.”
This was the same man the National Democratic Coalition (NADECO), the Nigerian media, civil society and others described as “Maradona” or “the evil genius. The hypocrisy that we have witnessed, the gutless amnesia on display, speak to the hollowness of the Nigerian character. History is written by the living and if you live long enough, you would find a ready audience for your side of any story. Students of the Babangida story in our national life should also remember the book, Foundations of a New Nigeria by Sam Oyovbaire and Tunji Olagunju, and Transition to Democracy in Nigeria (1985 – 1993) by Tunji Olagunju, Adele Jinadu and Sam Oyovbaire (1993). When Babangida turned 65 on August 17, 2026, two groups – Initiative for Equal Co-Existence and IBB for President Organisation organised a four-day carnival-like event in Abuja to celebrate him. The newspapers were awash with adverts and Professor Bolaji Akinyemi, his first Minister of External Affairs, delivered a friendly lecture.
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What is new is that this is the first time, apart from media interviews in the past, that General Babangida is telling his own story in full detail, and the product is a 440-page book in Five Parts and 13 Chapters, with a prologue, an epilogue, acknowledgements and appendices. It is an interesting, intriguing and engaging personal narrative about his life and his “journey through Nigeria’s path to the public.” (p. xviii). Dedicated to his parents: Isha Aishatu and Muhammadu Badamasi, “our fallen heroes, my comrade in arms who fought gallantly to protect the unity of Nigeria” and his wife, Maryam Ndidi Babangida, the foreword is written by General Yakubu Gowon, Nigeria’s military Head of State, 1966 -1975. I consider the book an important and welcome contribution to the extant literature on Nigeria’s political, social and military history, written by a direct participant for more than three decades in that history, and whose perspectives shed more light on not just the general history of Nigeria but also the Nigerian military, the civil war, ethnic politics, coups and coup-making and the challenges of leadership and governance. Babangida enriches our knowledge and public discourse with his boldness to tell his story. This is an example that should be emulated by other Nigerian leaders, for it is from the interplay of narratives that a more robust context of our historical experience can be constructed for public enlightenment. I am however concerned that most of the persons who have been running commentaries on this book in the last few days sound typically Nigerian- commenting on a book they have not read, even when the full text was already in circulation on social media before the public presentation ended. There is more to this book than the civil war and June 12.
It is a sinful act of dishonesty and mental laziness for anyone to run commentaries on the basis of hearsay. Curiously, this is one book, whose open piracy has not attracted complaints about copyright and intellectual property rights. With about N17 billion donated at the book presentation and the launch of a proposed Babangida Presidential Library, the bulk of that donation done on behalf of “all Nigerians”, many think that the retired General is getting more than he deserves. Sometime in 2002, General Yakubu Gowon had publicly apologised to the people of Asaba over the 1967 Asaba massacre; on another occasion he apologised to Professor Wole Soyinka for his incarceration during the civil war. Perhaps, following this cue, Professor Soyinka during a visit to Kaduna prisons had remarked that Babangida owes Nigerians an apology for annulling the June 12, 1993 Presidential election. He does something close to that in this book, with caveats to which I shall return, but what is frightening is that rather than interrogate Babangida’s acceptance of responsibility for what went wrong, most of those who attended his recent Abuja event behaved and spoke as if it is Nigerians who owe Babangida an apology! This looked like they were dancing on Dele Giwa’s grave, and spitting at MKO Abiola’s tombstone.
In the first Three Parts of the book: Early Years, Early Military Career and Governance and Military Rule – The Murtala Muhammed Years – written in lucid and readable prose, the author leads us on a journey through his family background in Wushishi and Minna, how he came about the name Badamasi, and later Babangida, his early school years at the Gwari Native Authority Primary School, the death of his father, and how he ended up at Provincial Secondary School, Bida (founded in 1910), which later became Government Secondary School, Bida. He tells the stories of his teachers and also his classmates, and how his stocky physique and sporting skills earned him the nicknames – “Blockbuster and Kulele”. In November 1962, Babangida and some of his classmates including Garba Duba, Sani Bello, Mohammed Magoro, Gado Nasko and Mamman Vatsa were encouraged to join the military by their teacher, Papa Onimole (later Dr Adeyemi Onimole) and also by Captain Yakubu Gowon, Sir Ahmadu Bello, Alhaji Ibrahim Tanko Galadima and other Northern officials who visited their school. In December 1962, they were admitted into the Nigerian Military Training College (NMTC), founded in 1960, the precursor to the Nigerian Defence Academy (NDA). The Northern political elite saw a future in the military for young Northerners and had actively mobilised them to become soldiers.
In Part Two, Babangida offers an insight into the early history of the Nigerian military and the training that he and his colleagues received at the NDA and the early friendships that he forged with others with whom his path crossed at the Academy. He and others received further training in India, at the India Military Academy, Dehradun now in Uttarakhand and returned to Nigeria in January 1964 as 2nd Lieutenant. In this part of the book, General Babangida gives an interesting account of the January 15, 1966 coup and the counter-coup of July 15, 1966, and the ethnic colouration that the events assumed, and this has been perhaps a controversial part of the book resulting in name-calling and abuses, which I find shocking and unnecessary. The author is accused of claiming that the January 15, 1966 was not an Igbo coup. He has been asked at what point did he arrive at that since he participated in the killing and marginalisation of Igbos during the civil war and after. My own reading of the author’s submission is that the coup plotters of January 1966 were driven by ideology, rather than ethnic sentiments. They were idealists not ethnic gladiators. Major Kaduna Nzeogwu, who led the coup “was only Igbo in name”. He was born and raised in Kaduna and was “as Hausa as any!” (p.59). He was also the first Nigerian soldier with training in intelligence and in that position he and his colleagues were privy to the excesses of the political elite of the time. There were non-Igbo officers in the coup-making, and part of their plan was to release Chief Obafemi Awolowo and make him “the executive provisional president of Nigeria” (p. 60).
Babangida explains convincingly that the problem was what came after. It was an Igbo man, General Thomas Aguiyi-Ironsi who emerged as Head of State after the January coup. This led to suspicions in the North that Igbos were planning to dominate Nigeria after killing prominent Northern leaders including the Sardauna and his wife and the much-loved Brigadier Zakariya Maimalari. The coup- makers were not punished, instead some of them were promoted. To worsen matters, the Aguiyi-Ironsi-led administration introduced the Unification Decree No. 34 of 1966 which Babangida says was “a significant disadvantage to Northern Nigeria” (p. 62). This infuriated young Northern soldiers who staged a counter-coup on July 28, 1966. There is not much that Babangida has said here that is unknown, either about the coups of 1966 or the Ironsi administration, but it is a measure of how deeply divided Nigeria is along ethnic lines that this has generated so much furore.
Subsequently, Babangida gives an account of the Nigerian civil war, the horrific circumstances that led to it, the blow out in the North and the massacre of Igbos, the Aburi Accord, and the beginning of the war. He was sent to the 1st Infantry Division in the Nsukka sector, under Colonel Muhammed Shuwa as sector commander. I doubt if anyone would disagree with the author’s conclusion about “the futility of war” (p. 66) or that “War is horrifying and painful. All wars erode human dignity in places and sometimes destroy the best in us and remain so for a long time.” (p. 95). Truly, Nigeria is yet to recover from that war that ended on January 15,1970. The scars remain. The country is still at war with itself. Part Three is devoted to the Murtala Muhammed Years. I find particularly useful here, the author’s reflections on “coup d’etats and the Nigerian military” (pp. 104 – 115) especially his submission that military interventions in politics are often prompted by the failure of the civilian leadership and the political class and that the military alone cannot be blamed; the civilian populace often invites and welcomes military interventions.
On 27 August, 1985, Babangida emerged as Nigeria’s new Head of State after a bloodless coup that ousted Major General Muhammadu Buhari. In Chapter Six titled “Mounting the Saddle, Defining a Military Presidency” (pp. 137 – 170), he describes the circumstances of his emergence and his priorities in settling down to office. Chapter Seven – “Reforming the Economy: Privatisation, IMF, SAP and other matters” explains the open, free market, liberalization and privatization directions of his administration and the IMF loan debate which led to a home-grown Structural adjustment Programme (SAP). In Chapter Eight, Babangida reflects further on some of the highlights of the new socio-economic order that he introduced – People’s Bank, Community Banks, DFRRI, and MAMSER. Chapter Nine is focused on Foreign Policy – Nigeria’s leadership of ECOMOG, restoration of ties with Israel, Concert of Medium Powers, Hosting the OAU, and the Technical Aid Corps. In the foregoing, Babangida thus deals with the highlights of his stewardship and whereas many persons may pick issues with his economic policies and manipulative political engineering processes, no one could readily doubt the fact that he ran a hardworking, well-meaning, charismatic government. He recruited some of the brightest brains in the land, from every part of the country, creating a cult of pro-Babangida intellectuals and technocrats.
It is in Chapter 10 that the author finally arrives at the controversial issues of his tenure. He calls them “the challenges of leadership.” On each of the issues, he offers “excuses” that are either downright disingenuous or that may be legitimately considered insulting by the affected parties. He tries to rewrite history. On the death of Dele Giwa, he blames the Newswatch team for “playing to the gallery” (p. 226), the media for hysteria, and he plays the victim. Years later, the question is still being asked: Who killed Dele Giwa? He was President of Nigeria. He could not solve the riddle. On “The Vatsa Coup” (pp. 207 – 231), again Babangida plays the victim, relapsing into a schoolboy tirade about how Vatsa had always been envious of his achievements since their secondary school days! Babangida should repeat that to Hajiya Safiya, Vatsa’s widow and her children, and have a second look at a documentary titled “A Widow’s Pains, A General’s Burden” (2006). He also reflects on the Gideon Orkar Coup, the OIC palaver, the 1989 SAP Riots, and the C-130 Air Crash. Other issues are covered in an interview with TELL magazine reproduced as Appendix II (pp. 342-379). Chapter 11 is a well-considered tribute to his wife, Maryam – without doubt an outstanding First Lady, a memorable Juliet to Romeo IBB, and an accomplished citizen in her own right.
In Chapter 12, the book reaches its highest moment titled “Transition to Civil Rule and the June 12 saga.” Here, Babangida tries to whitewash his own story. He says he regrets the annulment of June 12 1993 election. Mistakes were made. And although he accepts responsibility, he wants it known that Abacha-led forces were the ones who suspended the announcement of the results and when the Presidential election was annulled, it was done without his knowledge. He claims he “had a duty to protect the country at all costs” (p. 288). In retrospect, it looks like the General. was so afraid of his own lieutenants, he was more interested in saving his own neck! His June 12 story is a confession of cowardice. Is he aware that many died and Nigeria suffered because of that annulment? Many years after him, a Goodluck Jonathan as President stopped an attempt by a certain Elder Godsday Orubebe to derail the announcement of the results of the 2015 Presidential election. Where a civil war hero turned President ran from his own troops, a civilian President stood firm and defended due process and the rule of law. It is all about character.
Reuben Abati, a former presidential spokesperson, writes from Lagos.
