What Idiagbon Told His Son Adekunle
A Touch Of Nokoko By Kofi Akumanyi
Any student of African politics, particularly involving the military, would tell you that this was a great mistake made by the General when he left the country at the time he did. History is replete with stories of many African Heads of State who left their countries on one mission or the other (Nkrumah was on a peace mission to Hanoi, Gowon at Kampala OAU summit, Busia on medical check-up in the UK) and never made it back to their seats of power. The lesson should by now have sunk deeply in the psyche of any military ruler but, apparently believing in his invincibility, Idiagbon left on a personal religious mission and promptly became a refugee in Saudi Arabia - a situation he is currently enjoying with many Nigerian politicians he drove and persistently hunted in exile.
Now, it is known in medical circles for a man in such a desperate situation to undergo mental stress, which often leads into a state of depression (Gowon, Busia, Numiery), or a megalomania (Amin) in which vain boasts are made to return to power.
Idiagbon, according to reports reaching this columnist, is currently exhibiting symptoms of the first group of ex-Heads of State. He is reported to have pledged unflinching support to the new Babangida government and pleaded to be allowed back home where he properly belongs.
As it always happens in such unfortunate incidents, other members of his entourage have since returned home to their families.
In General Idiagbon's case his 14-year-old son had to return home without him with an instruction to look after his mother.
I am happy to report that I have just received a tape-recorded version of the conversation with his son. The tearful event has laid to rest the much-vaunted characteristic of the General as the regime's strong man. The following is the full text of the speech:
"My dear son, (sob...sob...) you're going back home without me because, as you've heard, my government has been overthrown and I'm currently without a job..."
"But daddy, you can come along," interrupted young Adekunle "they can't do anything to you. Even my school mates say...'
'Yes, I know the nonsense that your school mates said about WAI, but things have changed, my son. You see, everything I did when I was in power, I did for the good of Nigeria. You're growing up and in the course of your life, you'll meet people who may profess to be your friends but never trust any of them or you'll come to a sorry end as I have..."
"But daddy, Uncle Buhari is your best friend, he'll help you."
"You don't understand. Uncle Buhari is in jail at Kirikiri. He was put there by the men he trusted most... I have just heard that General Babangida, the man who removed me from power, has said that Uncle Buhari and I took unpopular decisions and that on a few occasions when he tried to influence political decisions we of him. had ignored him... (at this stage a loud noise is heard followed by the blowing of the nose) ... Do you believe this? Do you believe this? It's all lies! All lies! I tell you. This is typical; typical Nigerian attitude - when the going gets tough, they blame someone else for their problems (long pause, babbling noises at the back; possibly argument among other members of the entourage) . Adekunle, don't you remember when Uncle Buhari, Uncle Babangida, Uncle Chike Ofodile, Uncle Vatsa, Uncle Abacha, used to come home to dinner? Don't you remember the long discussions we had on Nigerian problems and solutions? You remember, don't you, those days that I used to take you to play tennis and those long conversations with Uncle Abacha? . . . (sob)...Now they are telling me that I neither consulted them, nor respected their views. It is treachery pure and simple! Pure treachery!...
"My son, Adekunle, that's the way of the world. When you get back to Lagos, you'll face many problems basically because your father is no longer in power . . . They will make jokes about me but don't ever lose your temper. Keep your cool and remind yourself that nothing goes on forever... What goes up must come down and that's why I'm down here, but I shall return someday, maybe not as second-in-command in the government but in a respectable enough position to be able to look after you like a father should. (Sob... sob… blowing of nose.)
"When I find somewhere to settle down I would write to you to send me my favourite juju music records and military books." That was Idiagbon.
"Daddy, what would we use for money?" Adekunle asked, obviously realising a whole new ball game ahead
"That's a very good suggestion, my boy. That's a very smart question. Well, I'm happy to say I'm not exactly a pauper. Your mother knows what to do. We took care of all that in our contingency measures. But obviously, my boy, you have to tailor your needs now to suit your current circumstances ... I'm terribly sorry you can't have all that you asked for the coming Christmas, but Wallahi, I. . . we shall overcome. Give my love to your mother..."
