By Okey Ndibe (E-mail: okeyndibe@gmail.com)
Umar Yar’Adua has served notice that he won’t probe his predecessor cum benefactor, Olusegun Obasanjo, much less put him on trial. If we judge by the frequency, and stridency, with which different groups are calling for Obasanjo’s trial, it would be safe to speculate that Yar’Adua’s is a deeply unpopular decision.
In a sense, it no longer matters whether Yar’Adua ever musters the political, psychological and moral muscle to do the right thing, namely: Probe how his capricious, vindictive and spiteful predecessor abandoned the management of Nigeria’s affairs for eight years. It doesn’t matter because Yar’Adua knows—and has let the world know—that Obasanjo is more guilty than his accusers would ever suspect.
On Tuesday, January 15, every major Nigerian newspaper carried an astonishing report that should make scandalized Nigerians hopping mad. The Leadership’s headline screamed: Obasanjo Wasted Over N1.2trn On Power Sector – Yar’Adua. The Sun of the same day echoed the headline: BIG WASTE - Obasanjo wasted $10 billion on power – Yar’Adua.
Those tempted to do a double take on the source of this revelation should not bother. Yes, it was, indeed, Umar Yar’Adua, the man Obasanjo single-handedly voted into the Presidency, who exposed this latest scandal of the Obasanjo years.
The Leadership’s opening paragraph said it all: “The administration of former president Olusegun Obasanjo frittered away over N1.2 trillion ($10 billion) on the power sector without any result to show for it, President Umaru Musa Yar’Adua said yesterday.” Here’s how the Sun captured it: “President Umaru Yar’Adua on Monday bared his mind on the country’s perennial power shortage, revealing that the Obasanjo administration pumped a whopping $10 billion into the power sector between 2000 and 2007 without much result.”
Yar’Adua’s bombshell revelation came when he hosted World Bank Vice President for Africa, Mrs. Obiageli Ezekwesili. Before taking up a post at the bank, Ezekwesili had held two ministerial portfolios in Obasanjo’s regime.
With his disclosure, Yar’Adua has put Obasanjo in the dock. No, he’s actually done more than that. To state that Obasanjo squandered $10 billion of the nation’s resources on a straw project is to expose the former president to the highest ridicule. Obasanjo’s silence in the face of such a scandalous imputation suggests that the ridicule is richly deserved. A Yar’Adua reluctant to drag Obasanjo before the law has, perhaps wittingly, tried and convicted the retired president.
Liyel Imoke, who sits on the gubernatorial throne in Cross River State, belongs in the dock as well—right beside Obasanjo. If Obasanjo will now go down in history as the guy who tossed away a great opportunity to improve the nation’s power sector, Imoke must be remembered as the face of that failure.
Shortly after assuming office in 1999, Obasanjo spoke a good game about his determination to tackle, and defeat, the monster of perennial power outages. In 2000, he set up a so-called technical committee to lead the charge. Headed by Imoke, the committee’s task was to transform what was then called the National Electric Power Authority (NEPA) into an authority that knew about the fundamentals of power supply.
Had the mission been undertaken with the seriousness it deserved, it would have buoyed the nation’s spirit, boosted its productive capacity and had a salutary imprint on every aspect of Nigerians’ lives. NEPA had accumulated many years’ experience as a vendor of darkness. As a friend of mine once told me, in earnest, the acronym NEPA was one of the first words his children picked up. And NEPA was the children’s word for darkness!
It would be hard to persuade such an agency, long habituated to darkness and incompetence, to see the light. The odds were forbidding. Even so, Obasanjo was a portrait of confidence. He assured Nigerians, “on my honour,” that they would soon begin to enjoy—in his words—“regular and uninterrupted power supply.” He even affixed a maturation date on his pledge: December 31, 2001.
Many believed him; we were still in those honeymoon days of his presidency, before the mask came off and perceptive Nigerians recognized him as a moral golliwog. At any rate, many would-be doubters adopted an attitude of “Why not?” After all, Nigeria’s power woes—like many other crises in which the country is mired—are far from intractable. If we needed inspiration for a nation that had dramatically improved its power supply, we could look over our shoulders at Ghana. Given the will, and the recruitment of knowledgeable experts, the goal was surely well within reach.
From the outset, Imoke was a controversial choice for the assignment. What was known of his public resume did not inspire much confidence that he was the best choice for such an arduous job of revolutionizing the nation’s power sector. Even so, some were impressed by the man’s youthful vigour and the energy he exuded whenever he spoke on his weighty mandate. Nigerians expected Imoke and his co-labourers to roll up their sleeves, stay focused, and get cracking at their task.
Alas, Imoke & co. seemed to promptly fall asleep on duty. Obasanjo poured billions into the project. But as the former president’s self-set deadline loomed, Imoke pulled a hat from sheer air. He announced that his committee’s instructions had nothing to do with guaranteeing regular and uninterrupted power. Instead, their job specification, he insisted, was to generate 4,000 megawatts. And he boasted that the committee was on the cusp of breaking the world record by being the fastest to generate such wattage.
Nigerians, rightly sensing that some 419 scheme was in progress, waxed indignant. When, and why, was the goal-post moved? But when a reporter cornered Obasanjo during his next televised interview, the former president dismissed Imoke’s last-minute attempt to revise expectations. Obasanjo looked straight into the camera and repeated that Nigerians should look forward to a new era of dependable power supply. He repeated “on my honour.”
Obasanjo’s honour here proved to be empty. I was in Nigeria on the eve of December 31, 2001. The sense of expectancy was so high that it was palpable. But when the date rolled around, Nigerians’ worst fears were confirmed.
They had been 419-ed all right! There was not even a whiff of improvement in power supply anywhere in the country. Liyel Imoke and his committee had failed, and they had failed in a public, abject and monumental manner. A president with little or no honour had preyed on the hopes and dreams of the citizenry. Nigerians were stunned to read about the billions of dollars that was the price tag for this bugaboo. A nation had been sold a huge scam disguised as a serious rescue plan.
Still, some were willing to give Obasanjo the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps the Imoke committee had also failed him. Not a chance! Obasanjo threw a huge party for members of the committee where he congratulated them on allegedly breaking some non-existent world record in power generation! He then decorated Imoke with a national honour, and invited him to join his cabinet.
From there, the picture got more, not less, bizarre. It is one of the amazements of Nigerian politics that a man like Imoke, an open and certified failure at a national task, should have been garlanded as a national hero and finally rewarded with a cozy governorship seat.
Some Nigerians are in a haste to forget the grave sins of the past in the ostensible interest of moving forward. Enlightened citizens must resist such disastrous prescriptions. Nigerian public officials are notorious for raising battle-cries against visible national problems as a way to justify the expenditure of large stashes of cash. Once released, such cash is then criminally funneled into private pockets. And the rest of us are expected to drone on in blissful amnesia.
During the Obasanjo years, several hundred billion naira was allegedly spent on road construction. Yet, commuters on Nigeria’s gutted and ghastly highways keep wondering where all that money went.
Thanks to Yar’Adua, we now know that Obasanjo frittered away $10 billion in order to leave hapless Nigerians with more of the same: Darkness. Nigerians should insist that Obasanjo and Imoke stand up and explain how all that money took wing, and where it went.