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Autobiographies as Constructed Narratives: Reflections on General Ibrahim Badamasi Babangida’s _A Journey in Service_

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*_By Ibraheem A. Waziri_*

23-02-2025

Tags: #IBB, #BookLauch, #Autobiographies, #AJourneyInService

On February 20, 2025, Nigeria marked a pivotal moment in its historical and literary landscape with the launch of *A Journey in Service*, the autobiography of General Ibrahim Badamasi Babangida, the nation’s former Military Head of State. Held at the Transcorp Hilton Hotel’s Congress Hall in Abuja, the event drew an illustrious crowd: President Bola Tinubu, former Presidents Yakubu Gowon, Abdulsalami Abubakar, and Goodluck Jonathan, alongside business magnates Aliko Dangote and Abdulsamad Rabiu. Beyond the fanfare and the nearly N17.5 billion raised for the IBB Legacy Centre—mistakenly dubbed a presidential library in early reports—the memoir’s released, reignites a profound discussion about autobiographies. Far from being vessels of absolute truth, such works are meticulously crafted narratives, designed to logically articulate an author’s perspective while justifying their actions and thoughts—past, present, and future. Babangida’s *A Journey in Service* embodies this, offering a lens to explore the constructed essence of autobiographical storytelling.

Autobiographies are, by design, subjective endeavors, distinct from impartial chronicles. They weave personal accounts from memory, intent, and selective disclosure, often prioritizing coherence over unvarnished fact. Babangida, who governed Nigeria from August 27, 1985, to August 26, 1993, remains a divisive figure. Known for deft political maneuvers—earning monikers like “Maradona” for his agility and “evil genius” for his cunningness—he oversaw a tumultuous era marked by economic upheaval and democratic setbacks. His most infamous act, the annulment of the June 12, 1993, presidential election—widely deemed Nigeria’s freest, at that time, won by Moshood Abiola—has haunted his legacy for 31 years. Nigerians anticipated *A Journey in Service* as a chance for clarity or confession, yet its launch reveals a narrative sculpted to reflect Babangida’s self-perception. He acknowledges Abiola’s victory, a move Tinubu hailed as “unusual courage,” but frames the annulment as an unauthorized act by General Sani Abacha and other officers while he was in Katsina, sidelined by circumstance. This selective disclosure suggests not a full unveiling but a justification, repositioning him as a leader constrained rather than complicit.

This subjectivity underscores a broader truth: books, especially memoirs, filter reality through hindsight, bias, and audience expectation. Babangida’s 420-page work, reviewed by former Vice President Yemi Osinbajo, promises insights into his eight-year tenure—economic reforms like the Structural Adjustment Programme (SAP), infrastructure feats, and banking deregulation—yet sidesteps a complete reckoning. Critics highlight glaring omissions: no confession regarding the October 19, 1986, assassination of journalist Dele Giwa by parcel bomb, widely linked to his regime; no accounting for the $12.4 billion Gulf War oil windfall, per the 1994 Pius Okigbo report; and no remorse for the executions of coup plotters like Mamman Vatsa in 1986 and Gideon Orkar in 1990. Babangida’s claim that he feared Abiola’s assassination if he took office—a speculative justification—casts him as a reluctant actor amidst a military cabal, absolving himself of agency. These silences, as much as the revelations, illustrate how *A Journey in Service* constructs a narrative that defends rather than fully discloses, a deliberate choice aligning with autobiographical norms.

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The memoir’s role as a legacy-building tool further amplifies its constructed nature. Launched as Babangida, now 83 (born August 17, 1941), nears life’s twilight and Nigeria approaches the 2027 elections, the event doubled as a fundraising spectacle for the IBB Legacy Centre. Billion-naira pledges from Dangote, Rabiu, and others—totaling N17.5 billion per ThisDay—underscored Babangida’s enduring clout, 31 years after stepping down. The title *A Journey in Service* reframes his rule as a patriotic endeavor, softening the authoritarian edges of his “evil genius” persona. By admitting Abiola’s win while distancing himself from the annulment’s execution, he crafts a complex portrait: a transformative leader navigating chaos, appealing to admirers who credit him with modernization while mitigating critics’ ire over economic hardship and political repression. This duality reflects a narrative engineered to reconcile his past with the statesman image he seeks today, extending its influence beyond the page into Nigeria’s political present.

The historical context of Babangida’s tenure enriches this analysis. His regime followed a series of military coups, inheriting a nation battered by oil-dependent economics and factional strife. The SAP, intended to liberalize the economy, sparked inflation and unrest, while his annulment catalyzed protests and deepened ethnic divides, paving the way for Abacha’s reign. *A Journey in Service* likely glosses over these ripple effects, emphasizing achievements—like the Third Mainland Bridge or Abuja’s development—to counterbalance failures. This selective memory mirrors how autobiographies prioritize legacy over accountability, inviting readers to weigh Babangida’s narrative against Nigeria’s collective experience.

Reactions to the memoir underscore its status as perspective, not fact. Tinubu, a June 12 activist turned president, praised its candor as setting “records properly,” perhaps reflecting political pragmatism. Afenifere, a pan-Yoruba group, rejected it as too late to mend the annulment’s “ogbonge damage,” echoing Yoruba grievances. Activists accused Babangida of exploiting Nigeria’s accountability vacuum, a sentiment rooted in decades of unresolved justice. Literary scholar Pius Adesanmi, were he alive, might have called it a “textual performance,” blending truth and theater. These responses reveal a fragmented reception: the book’s narrative is interpreted through readers’ biases, not universally embraced as truth, highlighting the elusive nature of autobiographical authority.

Yet, this constructed nature does not diminish *A Journey in Service*’s value—it enhances its complexity. It offers a window into Babangida’s mind: his rationalizations, regrets, and aspirations amid a career of calculated risks. Goodluck Jonathan, at the launch, urged preserving such narratives to enrich Nigeria’s political archive, a call to institutionalize personal histories. Readers, however, must approach it skeptically, recognizing it as one voice in a cacophony of perspectives—those of June 12 activists, SAP victims, or silenced journalists. Its significance lies not in claiming absolute truth but in sparking reflection and debate, forcing Nigerians to confront their history’s ambiguities. For youth, as commentators suggest, it provides leadership lessons—resilience, adaptability—albeit through a self-justifying lens that demands critical parsing.

Comparatively, *A Journey in Service* fits a global tradition of autobiographical narrative-building. Nelson Mandela’s *Long Walk to Freedom* blends triumph with curated humility, while Barack Obama’s *Dreams from My Father* navigates identity with selective introspection. Babangida’s work, with its wit (per Osinbajo’s review) and strategic candor, joins this lineage, tailoring Nigeria’s military past to a personal saga. Its launch timing—amid economic woes and democratic flux—amplifies its relevance, positioning Babangida as a commentator on leadership in crisis, a narrative thread justifying his past while influencing future discourse.

In conclusion, autobiographies like *A Journey in Service* are not absolute truths but woven narratives serving their authors’ ends. Launched on February 20, 2025, Babangida’s memoir—through selective revelations, strategic omissions, and legacy-driven intent—justifies actions like the annulment while shaping his present stature and future remembrance. As Nigerians grapple with its contents, it stands as a testament to storytelling’s power: not a final word, but a provocation to question, analyze, and seek broader truths it skirts. In a nation wrestling with its past—where military rule, economic policy, and democratic betrayal remain raw—such narratives are vital, not for certainty, but for the conversations they ignite, urging a deeper reckoning with history’s many voices.

Opinion

EFCC Probe on Refineries: Transparency or Political Witch-Hunt

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By Aminu Umar

The recent move by Nigeria’s anti-corruption agency, the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC), to probe the handling of finances and contracts related to the Port Harcourt and Warri refineries has stirred a heated debate on whether the investigation represents a genuine drive for transparency or a politically motivated witch-hunt.

At the heart of the issue is the EFCC’s request for salary records and allowances of 14 key officials who served during the refinery rehabilitation period. These include high-ranking executives such as Abubakar Yar’Adua, Mele Kyari, Isiaka Abdulrazak, Umar Ajiya, Dikko Ahmed, Ibrahim Onoja, Ademoye Jelili, and Mustapha Sugungun.

Others listed are Kayode Adetokunbo, Efiok Akpan, Babatunde Bakare, Jimoh Olasunkanmi, Bello Kankaya, and Desmond Inyama. The commission appears focused on payments and administrative decisions linked to the multi-billion naira refinery resuscitation program.

However, conspicuously absent from the list of those summoned is Adedapo Segun, the current Chief Financial Officer (CFO) of the Nigerian National Petroleum Company Limited (NNPCL), who served as Executive Vice President for Downstream and was directly in charge of treasury, refinery operations, shipping, and trading. During this time, all payments related to the Port Harcourt and Warri refineries were made under his financial supervision.

This omission has raised several questions: Why is Segun not being invited or questioned if the goal is transparency? Why is the probe appearing selective?

Equally puzzling is the inclusion of Abubakar Yar’Adua, whose role is administrative rather than operational, while high-profile former Group Managing Directors (GMDs) such as Andrew Yakubu, and Emmanuel Ibe Kachikwu, who played central roles in refinery policy and contracts in previous administrations, appear to have been bypassed.

We are not saying Mele Kyari is innocent or guilty, but we must insist on a fair process,” a stakeholder familiar with the situation told this reporter. “This shouldn’t be a selective trial. The people who gave out the contracts and approved the funds must be investigated too.”

The tension is heightened by growing concerns that the probe is targeted at individuals from a specific region. Many observers fear this could deepen regional mistrust, especially if only northern executives are made scapegoats.

We are worried this is being used to paint Northerners as the only looters,” said one source. “You cannot fight corruption with bias. You need to look at all sides. This includes those who were ‘exonerated’ too quickly.”

Another burning question is why individuals such as Emmanuel Ibe Kachikwu, former Minister of State for Petroleum, and Andrew Yakubu, former GMD of NNPC, who had strategic influence on contract awards and rehabilitation policies, are not facing any scrutiny. Critics argue that anyone involved at any stage of the refinery rehabilitation—whether from policy, finance, or operational perspectives—should be equally held accountable.

Civil society groups and international anti-corruption bodies are now being urged to step in. The call is for an independent and thorough probe that includes all relevant stakeholders—without exception.

“We are calling on NGOs and international organisations to ensure that this is not a political trial. If you must clean up the refinery system, you must do it across the board,” the statement concluded.

In a country plagued by decades of failed refinery operations and opaque oil sector dealings, the public is watching this investigation closely. The EFCC is at a crossroads: its actions will either affirm its commitment to justice or expose it to accusations of being used as a tool for political vendettas.

For now, Nigerians wait—with growing skepticism.

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Opinion

Censoring the Uncensored: The irony behind Hisbah’s ban on Hamisu Breaker’s song

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By Ummi Muhammad Hassan

Following the ban by Hisbah on a new song titled “Amana Ta” by Hamisu Breaker, social media went into an uproar, capturing the attention of the public.

In the early hours of April 24, 2025, social media was filled with reactions following a press statement issued by the Deputy Commander of the Hisbah Board, Kano State chapter, Dr. Khadija Sagir, announcing the ban of Breaker’s new song. The reason cited was that the song allegedly contains obscene language.

This announcement, however, triggered a counterreaction from the public. Many became curious to know more about the song and the so-called obscene content, with some taking to their social media handles to express their opinions.

The irony of the situation is that Hisbah unintentionally gave the song more prominence, causing it to go viral. Many people who were previously unaware of the song searched for and listened to it, just to understand the controversy.

In my opinion, after listening to the song, it contains no obscene language. Rather, the issue seems to lie with some young women who mimed the song in a suggestive manner after hearing that Hisbah had labelled it as indecent—as though to dramatize or reinforce the claim. Some even appeared as if they were intoxicated.

To me, this is both devastating and concerning, as it reflects the erosion of the strong moral standards once upheld by Hausa women. Many young people are now making videos lip-synching the song in indecent ways. It made me pause and ask myself: where has our shyness gone? I believe this question deserves a deeper conversation on another day.

In Breaker’s case, thanks to the Hisbah ban, he became the most trending Kannywood artist in April, and his song went viral—and continues to trend.

A similar incident occurred earlier this year when the federal government banned Idris Abdulkareem’s song *Tell Your Papa*. That action unexpectedly brought the artist back into the spotlight, causing the song to trend widely.

Social media has made censorship increasingly difficult. Once a movie, text, or song reaches the internet, it becomes almost impossible to control—even by the creators themselves.

While social media censorship remains a challenge, this recent incident highlights the need for the government to intensify efforts against the spread of indecent content—through Hisbah and agencies like the Kano State Film Censorship Board.

Clear guidelines should be put in place, requiring artists and filmmakers to submit their content for review and approval before public release. This, among other strategies, could help reduce the spread of inappropriate material.

Additionally, Hisbah should be more mindful of how such announcements are made, as they may inadvertently promote the very content they seek to suppress.

Ummi Muhammad Hassan, Ph.D., is a lecturer in the Department of Mass Communication at Bayero University, Kano. She can be reached via email at: ummeemuhammadhassan@gmail.com.

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Opinion

After My Parents, Then Prof. Nelson Aluya A Tribute to a Mentor Who Changed a Life

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By Zubair A. Zubair

 

When Dr. Veronica, then a lecturer at the University of San Francisco, “adopted” me as her son in early 2020, I never imagined that a simple WhatsApp introduction would alter the trajectory of my life. Nestled in a group chat named “Nigerians in Diaspora,” I soaked up every opportunity she shared, scholarships, networking events, webinars. One afternoon in 2020, she tagged the president of the Nigerian American Public Affairs Committee (NAPAC USA), Prof. Nelson Aluya, in a post about an upcoming virtual panel. Without hesitation, I sent him a direct message expressing my eagerness to join the discussion.

At the time, Prof. Aluya was an Associate Professor of Medicine at Rutgers Medical School in New Jersey. His response was swift and generous: “Welcome aboard, Zubair. I look forward to seeing you there.” Little did I know that his simple act of inclusion would mark the beginning of a mentorship unlike any other. In that moment, I realized there was a connection. I had first encountered his name, and his eloquent voice, on NTA News in February 2018, when he spoke passionately about diabetes awareness. His clarity and compassion had captivated me then; now, I was on the verge of being guided by him.

A Promise to Mentor

During our first call in 2020, I nervously explained that I was a university student back home in Kano. Prof. Aluya listened intently, then made me a promise: “I will mentor you to become the leader Nigeria needs, confident, compassionate, and competent.” He introduced me to Aliyu Sulaiman, another aspiring youth leader, and together we launched a new WhatsApp group in early February 2021 called “Wake Up Africa.” Our shared mission was ambitious: to bridge divides between Africans on the continent, Africans in the diaspora, and people of African descent worldwide.

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Trials, Tribulations, and Unwavering Support.
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Life’s challenges tested our resolve almost immediately. In March 2021, I lost my phone unexpectedly and was unable to rejoin the group for eight months. Just as I managed to reconnect in November, fate intervened again: during my “Use of English” exam, I misplaced my replacement phone. Forced offline once more, I spent two months unable to participate. Yet every time I resurfaced, Prof. Aluya reached out with the same warmth: “Zubair, we miss your voice. How can I help?” His unwavering support reminded me that mentorship transcends geography and setbacks.

From Virtual Chats to In-Person Impact
In January 2022, Prof. Aluya sponsored Aliyu, Shamsudden, and me to attend a Pan-African youth forum in Abuja. Walking into that conference hall, I felt the weight of possibility settle on my shoulders. Surrounded by young change-makers, I realized how vital our “Wake Up Africa” vision could be. Buoyed by this experience, Prof. Aluya challenged us to formalize our efforts. Thus, in February 2022, Youth Together Work Together (YTWT) was born a youth-led organization dedicated to community action across Nigeria.

Three Signature Projects
Under Prof. Aluya’s guidance and financial backing, YTWT executed three flagship initiatives over the next eighteen months:
1. Religious Tolerance Seminar (Kaduna, July 2022): Bringing together Muslim and Christian youth to foster dialogue and mutual respect.
2. Market Cleanup (Kano, August 2022): Mobilizing students, activists, journalists and traders to restore the city’s bustling markets, highlighting civic pride.
3. Youth Against Drug Abuse Campaign (Abuja, May 2024): Conducting workshops in schools, markets and community centers to educate peers on substance-abuse prevention.

Each project bore Prof. Aluya’s fingerprints: from strategy sessions over Zoom to on-the-ground coordination and resource mobilization.

Beyond Events: Lifelong Lessons
Prof. Aluya’s investment in me extended far beyond sponsoring trips. He guided me through public-speaking workshops, critiqued my writing, and introduced me to networks of professionals across healthcare, technology, and public policy. In July 2023, he arranged for me to attend a cybersecurity seminar in Jos; in April 2024, an IT conference in Ibadan; and this March, the ‘Come Talk Africa’ in Abuja. At each event, he reminded me: “Zubair, your voice matters. Use it well.”

His mentorship taught me resilience in the face of failure, humility in success, and generosity without expectation. When I doubted my talents, he reaffirmed them. When I feared I wasn’t enough, he declared that I already was.

A Mentor’s Legacy

Mentors come and go, but rare is the one who reshapes your understanding of service, leadership, and compassion. Prof. Aluya did more than fund projects, he believed in my potential when others did not see it. He challenged me to think bigger, serve better, and lead with my heart. Without ever asking for thanks, he gave of himself freely: his time, his wisdom, and his unwavering belief in Nigeria’s youth.

Conclusion

My parents gave me life and love. After them, Prof. Nelson Aluya gave me purpose and direction. As I prepare to graduate and embark on my own journey of service, I carry his lessons with me: to uplift others, to persevere through adversity, and to lead with integrity. This tribute, published today, is but a small token of my gratitude, and a reminder that some of the greatest gifts we receive are the people who see our potential before we see it ourselves.

“A mentor is not always the one who stands at your side, it is the one who reaches out to lift you higher.”
– Prof. Nelson Aluya

By Zubair A. Zubair
Kano, Nigeria

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