In the last few weeks, I have met and corresponded with a growing number of Nigerians worldwide who said to me, “Victor, we have followed your writings and campaign for a better political outcome in our country come 2023. We love what you are doing. But we’re worried that those who own Nigeria may not allow a free and fair election, and the emergence of the genuine choice of the people. We know what evil these men and women are capable of. They have compromised the electoral system. How are we sure that your efforts and those of other well-meaning people will not be in vain?”
I usually remind those who say this that they are the real owners of Nigeria; that they willfully conceded their ownership status to a handful of fellow citizens who have taken advantage of their timidity to kidnap the country and hold her captive. These criminals have stripped the country of every valuable and dignity. They are now posing as the “real owners of Nigeria”, using intimidation and terror to demand a ransom (their re-election) every four years. I usually add that until we lose our fears and stand up to Nigeria’s captors, we will remain their victims. But if we confront them, we will soon realize that they are holding toy guns.
The concept of “Those who own Nigeria” has been with us for a long time. In earlier incarnations, it was called “The powers that be”, “The cabal”, “The Kaduna Mafia” and “Oga at the top.” These sobriquets have variously described the same phenomenon. But credit for the new turn of phrase, I believe, belongs to Dele Momodu, the celebrity journalist turned politician who made a name for himself as publisher of Ovation Magazine.
In rationalizing his experience and frustrations since he began running for public office, Momodu credits “the owners of Nigeria” with power to decide the outcome of every election sans the will of the people and the merit of candidates – like himself.
Momodu’s theory reminds me of “The Five Monkeys Experiment.” The story goes that five monkeys were put in a cage by a researcher. In the cage, a bunch of bananas is hanging from a string, with a ladder leading to the bananas. When the first monkey goes for the bananas, the researcher sprays all five monkeys with freezing water for five minutes. Some time later, when a second monkey tries to go for the bananas, the researcher once again sprays all five monkeys with ice cold water for five minutes. The researcher then puts the hose away and never touches it again. But, when a third monkey tries to go for the bananas, the other four attack him to prevent him from climbing the ladder. They are afraid of the punishment to come. They are unaware that the water hose has been put away. They simply want to comply. They are captives of their own memories.
Long before Momodu, I learnt from my father that his own father (my grandfather) used to say that Nigeria belonged to the British colonizers. After 1960, Nigeria was widely thought to belong to the “founding fathers” of Independent Nigeria. Those endearing words were reserved for four gentlemen – Nnamdi Azikiwe, Obafemi Awolowo, Ahmadu Bello and Abubakar Tafawa Balewa – and their close allies. Between them, it was said, the fate of the country was decided.
From 1966 to 1978, the “ownership” of Nigeria was ascribed first to General Aguiyi Ironsi and later to a small group of military officers which included Yakubu Gowon, Murtala Mohammed, Joseph Garba and Theophilus Danjuma. After them, it was the turn of Olusegun Obasanjo, Musa Yar ‘Adua, Muhammadu Buhari, Ibrahim Babangida, Augustus Aikhomu, Domkat Bali, Tunde Idiagbon, Maman Vasta, Sani Abacha and Abdulsallam Abubakar, among others.
I have taken time to go on this brief historical excursion in order to establish just how embedded this concept is in the Nigerian psyche. And just how transient membership of that mythical club of the owners of Nigeria truly is. For how else does one explain the fact that some of those who were once believed to be owners of Nigeria, no longer own her today even though they are still alive and kicking? If they truly owned Nigeria, how come they eventually lost ownership? Can “ownership” cease without an owner’s consent even in his or her lifetime? If so, what does that say about the nature and substance of such ownership?
For good reason, the sitting head of state is always believed to be among those who own Nigeria. And the next leader is often believed to need the blessings (overt or covert) of the sitting president and his henchmen. Yet, today, no one is queueing for blessings at Aso Rock. Indeed, an endorsement by President Buhari for any of the candidates currently in the race might amount to a kiss of death.
Candidate Bola Tinubu is of the ruling APC and easily qualifies as one of the president’s henchmen. But despite his best efforts, he is struggling under the weight of the baggage he carries as the chief engineer who put together the great Buhari political machine of 2015. That vehicle is now widely believed to be the most dysfunctional and dangerous contraption ever in the Nigerian political environment. Suddenly, the impressive machine Tinubu built in 2015 has failed to ignite ahead of the race in 2023. His co-engineers are frozen in shock and making secret arrangements to bail out if misfortune persists.
In essence, both Buhari and the Asiwaju are just as human as the rest of us. They are opportunists favored by time and circumstance. They began to take credit for gifts they received without merit. Now, both time and circumstance have left them.
Those who claim to know the owners of Nigeria always hide the list behind a veil of obscurity. It’s a ruse to mystify and awe the gullible into submission. It is a toy gun used to intimidate the fearful.
If anyone truly owns Nigeria, why are they aspiring, lobbying, negotiating, begging, crying and campaigning to lead her? Does one beg for what truly belongs to him?
No man, woman or group owns Nigeria. Nigeria belongs to all Nigerians, equally. Nigeria and Nigerians belong to God. But God is a democrat. He chooses to leave certain things to human judgement and choice. Whatever choices we make, we live with the consequences. We always have a choice to stay or change course.
“Those who own Nigeria” clearly represents the mental state of a serially subjugated people. It captures a sense of self-imposed limitation. It is a figment of failed imaginations.
As a lifelong student of the behavioral sciences, I am familiar with Everett Rogers’ Theory of Innovation Diffusion. Published 60 years ago, it describes the way new ideas, processes and phenomena (innovations) are absorbed by society. Everett observes that approximately 2.5% of humanity (or any of its subsets) are innovators; 13.5% are Early Adopters; 34% are Early Majority; another 34% are Late Majority; and 16% are Laggards. Everett further observes that between the Early Adopters and the Early Majority, there is usually a “chasm.” This represents a gap or perceptual point of departure. This gap must be bridged for the Early Majority to join the Innovators and Early Adopters and form the critical mass necessary for any innovation to go mainstream.
Today, Nigerians who know the truth but fear the worst are in the Early Majority. Those championing the cause of a viable Third Force (outside APC and PDP) are the Innovators and Early Adopters. We must move gingerly ahead while patiently encouraging our brethren to navigate the chasm of doubt and cynicism which holds them back. When they do, as they surely will, the political tornado currently sweeping across Nigeria (all thanks to the Obi-Datti movement and Labor Party) will sweep the false owners of Nigeria into oblivion. And Nigerians will be free indeed.
Victor Anazonwu, a Historian, Journalist and Author, writes from Lagos.
