By Dr. Hakeem Baba-Ahmed
"It is better to help a friend pay his fine,than
tell a lie to help him cover a crime." - Nigerian
proverb.
It was literally a life-long ambition, and I used every
opportunity to meet the old man in person. I was
finally in a position to press buttons and call old
friends to render favours, and in early 2007 I
succeeded. I was told I could see Mandela for only
30 minutes at his home, but I needed to get there
one hour earlier. Colleagues I had leaned on were
skeptical that I would see him despite the
appointment, particularly since I will not say it was
official.
An old South African friend and coursemate from
South Africa who helped suggested I asked
questions or matters I wanted to discuss with him
and send them in advance. I did not think that was
the type of meeting I wanted, so I did not.
Mandela was surprised when he was told I worked
at the Nigerian Ministry of Foreign Affairs, but had
spent 6 months trying to see him to pay my
personal respects.
"Why did you not go through your colleagues
here?"
I told him the visit was not official. I just wanted to
meet him. He relaxed and apologized that it had
taken that long for me to see him. Others left us,
except a lady who sat discreetly away from us. I
thought she was a medical person.
"How are my Nigerian brothers and sisters?"
he asked me, but would not let me take the
initiative. "You know, I am not very happy with
Nigeria. I have made that very clear on many
occasions."
Now I was curious. I knew of course that he led our
suspension from the Commonwealth after the
hanging of the late Ken Saro-Wiwa and his Ogoni
compatriots. It was also no secret that South African
governments including one he headed had
considerably cooled off towards Nigeria, and by
the time I was meeting him, 'Nigeria' was a dirty
word in most cities in South Africa.
I mentioned that Nigerian people had very strong
and positive dispositions towards South Africa
and the Southern African region, and many were
puzzled that people who marched all the way with
South Africans can be despised by the governments
and people of South Africa.
"Yes," he responded. "Nigeria stood by us
more than any nation, but you let yourselves
down and Africa and the black race very
badly."
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I knew I was going to get a lecture, so I sat back.
He spoke with passion and anger at a nation which
has one-quarter of the black race, and had
everything needed to be great, but is known
principally for its dictators and its criminals.
"Your country," he said, "used to be respected.
After your suspension from the
Commonwealth, many western countries
approached me to help in isolating Nigeria so
that it will be easier to bring down your
military dictators. I consulted many African
leaders, and all were unanimous in their
advice. They told me to stay clear of Nigeria.
That you will fix your problems. You have done
it before.
"But," he shook his head, "you have not. Not this
time. The world will not respect Africa until
Nigeria earns that respect. The black people
of the world need Nigeria to be great as a
source of pride and confidence. Nigerians love
freedom and hate oppression.Why do you do
it to yourselves?"
He remembered Tafawa Balewa, the first leader
who gave his party, ANC, financial contribution. I
saw an opening here. I suggested that all Africans
are bitter at their leaders. With due respect, I said,
his presidency had not changed lives of black South
Africans much, and his successors are not likely to
do so.
"Yes," he agreed, "but we raised hopes that
others can do so. Your leaders have no
respect for their people. They believe that
their personal interests are the interests of
the people. They take people's resources and
turn it into personal wealth. There is a level of
poverty in Nigeria that should be
unacceptable. I cannot understand why
Nigerians are not more angry than they are."
Since it was obvious that he was intent on pouring
his heart out, I decided to let him speak.
"What do young Nigerians think about your
leaders and their country and Africa? Do you
teach them history? Do you have lessons on
how your past leaders stood by us and gave
us large amounts of money? You know I hear
from Angolans and Mozambicans and
Zimbabweans how your people opened their
hearts and their homes to them. I was in
prison then, but we know how your leaders
punished western companies who supported
Apartheid."
I reminded him that we had elected governments
since 1999, and he knew some of our leaders in
person. Yes, he did.
"But what about the corruption and the
crimes?" he asked. "Your elections are like
wars. Now we hear that you cannot be
president in Nigeria unless you are Muslim or
Christian. Some people tell me your country
may break up. Please, don't let it happen."
He sat back. I obviously got a lot more than I
bargained for. Then he mellowed down, and
apologized: he had not even asked me what I
wanted to see him for, and he was tearing at my
country. It was fine, I assured him. I merely wanted
to meet him and pay my respects. He then asked
me a lot of personal questions, and in particular
what I was doing personally to improve the capacity
of the Nigerian people to build the nation to be a
source of pride and comfort for Nigerians, Africa and
the black race. But he was in a lecturing mood.
"Let me tell you what I think you need to do,"
he said. "You should encourage leaders to
emerge who will not confuse public office with
sources of making personal wealth. Corrupt
people do not make good leaders. Then you
have to spend a lot of your resources for
education. Educate children of the poor, so
that they can get out of poverty. Poverty does
not breed confidence. Only confident people
can bring changes. Poor, uneducated people
can also bring change, but it will be hijacked
by the educated and the wealthy."
"Like South Africa today, sir," I quipped.
He paused. "It will be difficult for the world to
understand that it will take generations to
eliminate the structural roots and effects of
Apartheid."
"But," I drove the point home, "You created the
impression that the political compromises and
concessions you made would lead to a dramatic
change in the fortunes of black people."
"Dramatic?" he asked. "In many ways we
achieved dramatic results."
"Like in sports, " I pressed further.
"Sports is important to South Africans. It gave
them confidence to believe things are
possible. And it united them."
"But sir, it created a false sense of progress, and
people here think it is all a gimmick by white people
to create a diversion."
"It is not a diversion," he countered. "It is real.
South Africans will have to come to terms
with the reality that their country is a multi-
racial, multi-cultural nation with rich and poor.
Any efforts to reduce the gulf between the
races and classes is useful, he insisted."
Then he was back to Nigeria. People had said to him
that South Africa could become an alternative
beacon of hope and inspiration for the black race
and Africa. He told them it was always going to be
Nigeria. Nigeria, Egypt and South Africa can provide
a tripod for real change but young Africans need to
capture that vision.
"So," he said to me, "If this audience has
been useful, I am glad. But it will be more
useful to me if you go back to Nigeria and
work to give young Nigerians good education.
Teach them the value of hard work and
sacrifice, and discourage them from crimes
which are destroying your image as a good
people."
I have re-lived that rare opportunity many times
since that visit. The 30-minute audience lasted for
one hour, and I was escorted out by a man I saw
close up as human as anyone. I had rarely come
across such candour about my country, but it was
clearly the product of genuine concern that one of
Africa's greatest assets was being frittered away.
As he shook my hand to say goodbye, he
apologized again over his comments, but assured
me that he would love to see Nigeria grow and
develop into a world economic power under a
democratic system.
If there is any comfort to draw from Mandela's
disappointment, it will be that he may not have
observed our free-fall as a nation in the last five
years.
Hundreds of corpses of Boko Haram victims reportedly litter Gwoza Mountain in Borno state
Hundreds of bodies of some of the victims of Boko Haram attacks who fled from Gwoza community in Borno state are reportedly decomposing at the mountains that surround Gwoza community. A source who spoke with Sahara Reporters say most of the victims died due to hunger as they could not get food while they took refuge on the mountains during the period Boko Haram took their community hostage. "Many atrocities were committed by Boko haram insurgents during Boko Haram reign at Gwoza, most of the mountain unburied bodies lying down. Hundreds of corpses are still there. If you go to the these mountains around Gwoza axis you wouldn't be able to eat meats, sand has eaten some the bodies as many bones dry up due to heat" the source said
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