Wednesday 13 February 2013

ELECTORAL MALPARCTICE AND STATE CALLAPSE IN NIGERIA


The rise of modern states in virtually all the third world countries is faced with numerous difficulties, such as the enthronement of state institution of governance, greater citizens’ participation, peace and security, sustainable development and the association demand for the state, provision of welfare. Therefore, the forge in which the state dealt with these issues, define its character and its relations with the political system. Devid conceived modern state as a set of political apparatuses , defined from both ruler and ruled, with supreme jurisdiction over demarcated area; backed by a claim to a monopoly of coercive power, enjoying legitimacy as result of minimum level of support or loyalty from the citizens. This implies that, all state whether big or small, has been characterized by certain requisite element, viz, the distinct attribute of sovereignty, presence of public institution, formal monopoly over instruments of coercion and an impersonal, impartial and neutral bureaucracy

In spite of these challenges, until more than a decade ago, it would have seemed almost inconceivable of state collapse to be on the increase. Many modern states were once collapse to be increase. Many modern state were once collapsed and many more other now approach the verge of collapse and some much more ominously, than others do. This nonetheless, it was opined that state collapse is a part and a process of state reconstruction and formation. In the same vein, state collapse hardly occurs spontaneously, and a lib or all at once. Whosesoever, it happens, it drift disastrously by complex and conflict-ridden process of decline, erosion of state functions. A number of scholar’s have described state collapse in Liberia, Somalia, Mozambique, Ethiopia and Nigeria  and risk of collapse in at least dozen other state. The common theme here involves overwhelmed governments that are almost, if not completely, unable to discharge basic government functions; the basic of which is security and defense. This is the primary function of any state, which all other political goods and services.

There is a correlation between electoral malpractices and state collapse. That electoral malpractice has major implications for state formation is by now quite obvious. It is also clearly evident that election malpractice has drifted many countries into conflicts, absence of law and order, forcing the state paralyzed, incapacitated, hence unable to discharge basic function such as in the Democratic Republic of Congo(2011), Kenya (2007), Zimbabwe(2008), Nigeria(2007) and( 2011). Based on these considerations, it is predictably feasible to argue that incidence of state collapse in a number of Africa countries woes largely to flaw and fraudulent electoral process.

In effect, electoral malpractice refers to any wrongdoing affecting election procedures and materials, especially by government officials and political party and candidate agents. It takes different forms ranging from irregularities, deficiencies, flaws in electoral management at different levels during the election process.

Drawing from the above premise, foreign policy magazine reasoned that elections are almost universally regarded as helpful in reducing conflict. It further explains that when elections are rigged, conducted during active fighting or attract a low turnout, they can inefficient or harmful to stability of state. As crisis group (2007) point out while reporting on the conduct of the 2007 general election, ‘the failure of April elections has major implications for Nigeria’s governance, internal security, and stability’. The report goes further to identify the consequential effects of the flawed elections are:

1.      Legitimacy deficient, as the product of a deeply flawed, disputed election, it takes power in Abuja but has not yet earned a place in the heart of the people

2.      Slide toward one-party state, since 1999, the PDP has steadily captured even more state and legislative seats at state and national levels

3.      Diminished confidence in the democratic process. The turn out during election have continued to shrink as follows 52.2% in 1999, 64.8% in 2003, 57.2% in 2007and 53% in 2011

4.      Undermining conflict management, the flawed elections also have implications for the country’s demotic conflict management. Elaigwu(2011), cited about 286 selected cases of ethno-religious conflict in Nigeria and about 373 selected cases of election-related conflict in Nigeria from May 1999 to November 2011.

The above notwithstanding, Eric had this to say about the 2011 general election, while recognized that INEC had improved from the past performance, as had the security force, he describe how the PDP had hijack ballot boxes at the gun point in Akwa Ibom, and how result from Akwa Ibom had nonetheless been reported at the collation center . Parden highlighted few flaws that characterize the election. He explain ‘the urban areas were more accessible to domestic and international observers, but the rural areas were  where the vote  rigging occurred. Ballot stuffing was widespread, as well payments of about $2 per vote to rural people. Money was paid even to the local opposition party observers to agree to the results’. Based on these and other allegations. The HRW reported called an INEC to release result, including the results for individual polling units, as means of ensuring accountability.

Despite these shortcomings, unlike the 1999,2003, and 2007 general elections, the 2011 general elections was adjudged by many as the best organized and conducted election in Nigerian history, for instance, a former us envoy, Amb. Howard, remarked that ‘the level of success and credibility recorded by Nigeria in 2011 general elections could make the country the standard bearer for democracy’.

The verdict

Dauda(2011) observer that Nigeria’s April 2011 election was view by many as a critical test of government’s move towards credible democracy. He further asserts that the funding of most observer group have characterized the general election as significant improvement over the previous poll, although not without problems’. Thus, the post-election violence across the north highlighted lingering communal tensions, grievances and mistrust.

The question remain, why despite the applause to the 2011 general elections, the reactions to the outcome posed a critical test to the legitimacy of the government. Additionally, the successive elections in the country from the 1999 to 2011 had always patently posed potential landmines to state formation in Nigeria.

Elaigwu (2011) declared that leaders who are not genuinely elected lack legitimacy. Hence, the crisis group observed that groups that did not believed in the legitimacy of the new government threated a campaign to destabilize the regime. Specific mention was made of the Campaign of Democracy (CD) and Adewala Balogun , executive director of the center for constitutional governance. The later had warned that if yar’adua allows himself to be sworn in, based on that fraud called election he will not enjoy our cooperation, and will ensure that he does not enjoy his reign’, while the former that is CD says ‘it will challenge the legitimacy of the government by any means possible’ . Be that as it may, election malpractice in Nigeria serve as impetus to election violence in the country thereby diminishing the citizens’ confidence in the democractic process and political institution of the state. According to the executive summary on the report of the judicial commission of inquiry into the post presidential election disturbances in kaduna state, the remote causes of crisis of the crisis; is the non-adherence of PDP zoning system as enshrined in its constitution, desperate politician and winner-take-all-syndrome

Secondly, plethora of literature abound on the multiplier effect of social factors such as horizontal inequality, poverty, unemployment, social exclusion, lack of social cohesion, and illiteracy to list but few. Towards the credibility of electoral process. For instance, paden(2012) marveled over the incumbent assess to government resources; drawing from the excess crude account to finance party campaigns, deployment of security forces, controlling and hiring of powerful electoral commissioners ‘etc. while Jega  attributed  ‘crisis of expectation’ on the post-election violence. In addition, Charles Dickson commented on the formation of the government thus, ‘today, whether we like it or not, the president is a Christian, the senate president is Christian, head of judiciary a Christian, SGF is a Christian, national security adviser is also a Christian, the chief of army, SSS Director, in fact welcome to the federal republic is of Christians’ 

Hence, it is the views of this paper that even if conduct of the general elections will be immune from criticism, the pre-election intrigue marred the credibility of the whole exercise, hence, impair state formation in Nigeria.

An edited paper presented at the National Conference on Perspective on Elections and Challenges of Democracy in Nigeria. Organized by the Department of Political science BUK      

YOU LAZY (INTELLECTUAL) AFRICAN SCUM! A MUST READ FOR ALL


 
 

I got this from Prof.Murtala Sagagi

They call the Third World the lazy man’s ewe; the sluggishly slothful and languorous prefecture. In this realm people are sleepy, dreamy, torpid, lethargic, and therefore indigent—totally penniless, needy, destitute, poverty-stricken, disfavored, and impoverished. In this demesne, as they call it, there are hardly any discoveries, inventions, and innovations. Africa is the trailblazer. Some still call it “the dark continent” for the light that flickers under the tunnel is not that of hope, but an approaching train. And because countless keep waiting in the way of the train, millions die and many more remain decapitated by the day.

“It’s amazing how you all sit there and watch yourselves die,” the man next to me said. “Get up and do something about it.”

Brawny, fully bald-headed, with intense, steely eyes, he was as cold as they come. When I first discovered I was going to spend my New Year’s Eve next to him on a non-stop JetBlue flight from Los Angeles to Boston I was angst-ridden. I associate marble-shaven Caucasians with iconoclastic skin-heads, most of who are racist.

“My name is Walter,” he extended his hand as soon as I settled in my seat.

I told him mine with a precautious smile.

“Where are you from?” he asked.

“Zambia.”

“Zambia!” he exclaimed, “Kaunda’s country.”

“Yes,” I said, “Now Sata’s.”

“But of course,” he responded. “You just elected King Cobra as your president.”

My face lit up at the mention of Sata’s moniker. Walter smiled, and in those cold eyes I saw an amenable fellow, one of those American highbrows who shuttle between Africa and the U.S.

“I spent three years in Zambia in the 1980s,” he continued. “I wined and dined with Luke

Mwananshiku, Willa Mungomba, Dr. Siteke Mwale, and many other highly intelligent Zambians.”

He lowered his voice. “I was part of the IMF group that came to rip you guys off.” He smirked.

“Your government put me in a million dollar mansion overlooking a shanty called Kalingalinga.

From my patio I saw it all—the rich and the poor, the ailing, the dead, and the healthy.”

“Are you still with the IMF?” I asked.

“I have since moved to yet another group with similar intentions. In the next few months my colleagues and I will be in Lusaka to hypnotize the cobra. I work for the broker that has acquired a chunk of your debt. Your government owes not the World Bank, but us millions of dollars. We’ll be in Lusaka to offer your president a couple of millions and fly back with a check twenty times greater.”

“No, you won’t,” I said. “King Cobra is incorruptible. He is …”

He was laughing. “Says who? Give me an African president, just one, who has not fallen for the carrot and stick.”

Quett Masire’s name popped up.

“Oh, him, well, we never got to him because he turned down the IMF and the World Bank. It was perhaps the smartest thing for him to do.”

At midnight we were airborne. The captain wished us a happy 2012 and urged us to watch the fireworks across Los Angeles.

“Isn’t that beautiful,” Walter said looking down.

From my middle seat, I took a glance and nodded admirably.

“That’s white man’s country,” he said. “We came here on Mayflower and turned Indian land into a paradise and now the most powerful nation on earth. We discovered the bulb, and built this aircraft to fly us to pleasure resorts like Lake Zambia.”

I grinned. “There is no Lake Zambia.”

He curled his lips into a smug smile. “That’s what we call your country. You guys are as stagnant as the water in the lake. We come in with our large boats and fish your minerals and your wildlife and leave morsels—crumbs. That’s your staple food, crumbs. That corn-meal you eat, that’s crumbs, the small Tilapia fish you call Kapenta is crumbs. We the Bwanas (whites) take the cat fish. I am the

Bwana and you are the Muntu. I get what I want and you get what you deserve, crumbs. That’s what lazy people get—Zambians, Africans, the entire Third World.”

The smile vanished from my face.

“I see you are getting pissed off,” Walter said and lowered his voice. “You are thinking this Bwana is a racist. That’s how most Zambians respond when I tell them the truth. They go ballistic. Okay.

Let’s for a moment put our skin pigmentations, this black and white crap, aside. Tell me, my friend, what is the difference between you and me?”

“There’s no difference.”

“Absolutely none,” he exclaimed. “Scientists in the Human Genome Project have proved that. It took them thirteen years to determine the complete sequence of the three billion DNA subunits.

After they were all done it was clear that 99.9% nucleotide bases were exactly the same in you and me. We are the same people. All white, Asian, Latino, and black people on this aircraft are the same.”

I gladly nodded.

“And yet I feel superior,” he smiled fatalistically. “Every white person on this plane feels superior to a black person. The white guy who picks up garbage, the homeless white trash on drugs, feels superior to you no matter his status or education. I can pick up a nincompoop from the New York streets, clean him up, and take him to Lusaka and you all be crowding around him chanting muzungu, muzungu and yet he’s a riffraff. Tell me why my angry friend.”

For a moment I was wordless.

“Please don’t blame it on slavery like the African Americans do, or colonialism, or some psychological impact or some kind of stigmatization. And don’t give me the brainwash poppycock.

Give me a better answer.”

I was thinking.

He continued. “Excuse what I am about to say. Please do not take offense.”

I felt a slap of blood rush to my head and prepared for the worst.

“You my friend flying with me and all your kind are lazy,” he said. “When you rest your head on the pillow you don’t dream big. You and other so-called African intellectuals are damn lazy, each one of you. It is you, and not those poor starving people, who is the reason Africa is in such a deplorable state.”

“That’s not a nice thing to say,” I protested.

He was implacable. “Oh yes it is and I will say it again, you are lazy. Poor and uneducated Africans are the most hardworking people on earth. I saw them in the Lusaka markets and on the street selling merchandise. I saw them in villages toiling away. I saw women on Kafue Road crushing stones for sell and I wept. I said to myself where are the Zambian intellectuals? Are the Zambian engineers so imperceptive they cannot invent a simple stone crusher, or a simple water filter to purify well water for those poor villagers? Are you telling me that after thirty-seven years of independence your university school of engineering has not produced ascientist or an engineer who can make simple small machines for mass use? What is the school there for?”

I held my breath.

“Do you know where I found your intellectuals? They were in bars quaffing. They were at the Lusaka Golf Club, Lusaka Central Club, Lusaka Playhouse, and Lusaka Flying Club. I saw with my own eyes a bunch of alcoholic graduates. Zambian intellectuals work from eight to five and spend the evening drinking. We don’t. We reserve the evening for brainstorming.”

He looked me in the eye.

“And you flying to Boston and all of you Zambians in the Diaspora are just as lazy and apathetic to your country. You don’t care about your country and yet your very own parents, brothers and sisters are in Mtendere, Chawama, and in villages, all of them living in squalor. Many have died or are dying of neglect by you. They are dying of AIDS because you cannot come up with your own cure.

You are here calling yourselves graduates, researchers and scientists and are fast at articulating your credentials once asked—oh, I have a PhD in this and that—PhD my foot!”

I was deflated.

“Wake up you all!” he exclaimed, attracting the attention of nearby passengers. “You should be busy lifting ideas, formulae, recipes, and diagrams from American manufacturing factories and sending them to your own factories. All those research findings and dissertation papers you compile should be your country’s treasure. Why do you think the Asians are a force to reckon with? They stole our ideas and turned them into their own. Look at Japan, China, India, just look at them.”

He paused. “The Bwana has spoken,” he said and grinned. “As long as you are dependent on my plane, I shall feel superior and you my friend shall remain inferior, how about that? The Chinese, Japanese, Indians, even Latinos are a notch better. You Africans are at the bottom of the totem pole.”

He tempered his voice. “Get over this white skin syndrome and begin to feel confident. Become innovative and make your own stuff for god’s sake.”

At 8 a.m. the plane touched down at Boston’s Logan International Airport. Walter reached for my hand.

“I know I was too strong, but I don’t give it a damn. I have been to Zambia and have seen too much poverty.” He pulled out a piece of paper and scribbled something. “Here, read this. It w

He had written only the title: “Lords of Poverty.”

Thunderstruck, I had a sinking feeling. I watched Walter walk through the airport doors to a waiting car. He had left a huge dust devil twirling in my mind, stirring up sad memories of home. I could see

Zambia’s literati—the cognoscente, intelligentsia, academics, highbrows, and scholars in the places he had mentioned guzzling and talking irrelevancies. I remembered some who have since passed—how they got the highest grades in mathematics and the sciences and attained the highest education on the planet. They had been to Harvard, Oxford, Yale, Massachusetts Institute of Technology

(MIT), only to leave us with not a single invention or discovery. I knew some by name and drunk with them at the Lusaka Playhouse and Central Sports.

Walter is right. It is true that since independence we have failed to nurture creativity and collective orientations. We as a nation lack a workhorse mentality and behave like 13 million civil servants dependent on a government pay cheque. We believe that development is generated 8-to-5 behind a desk wearing a tie with our degrees hanging on the wall. Such a working environment does not offer the opportunity for fellowship, the excitement of competition, and the spectacle of innovative rituals.

But the intelligentsia is not solely, or even mainly, to blame. The larger failure is due to political circumstances over which they have had little control. The past governments failed to create an environment of possibility that fosters camaraderie, rewards innovative ideas and encourages resilience. KK, Chiluba, Mwanawasa, and Banda embraced orthodox ideas and therefore failed to offer many opportunities for drawing outside the line.

I believe King Cobra’s reset has been cast in the same faculties as those of his predecessors. If today I told him that we can build our own car, he would throw me out.

“Naupena? Fuma apa.” (Are you mad? Get out of here)

Knowing well that King Cobra will not embody innovation at Walter’s level let’s begin to look for a technologically active-positive leader who can succeed him after a term or two. That way we can make our own stone crushers, water filters, water pumps, razor blades, and harvesters. Let’s dream big and make tractors, cars, and planes, or, like Walter said, forever remain inferior.

A fundamental transformation of our country from what is essentially non-innovative to a strategic superior African country requires a bold risk-taking educated leader with a triumphalist attitude and we have one in YOU. Don’t be highly strung and feel insulted by Walter. Take a moment and think about our country. Our journey from 1964 has been marked by tears. It has been an emotionally overwhelming experience. Each one of us has lost a loved one to poverty, hunger, and disease. The number of graves is catching up with the population. It’s time to change our political culture. It’s time for Zambian intellectuals to cultivate an active-positive progressive movement that will change

our lives forever. Don’t be afraid or dispirited, rise to the challenge and salvage the remaining few of your beloved ones.

Same apply to Nigerians!

Tuesday 12 February 2013

'ACCIDENTAL PUBLIC SERVANT'


Have been a way for long, busy written by exams. Thank God am done with this level successfully.  Even due the semester was horrible with ups and down precisely as I indulge in campus politics, so to said am not a loser! At least chairperson ZTC-BUK and Welfare Officer of my Department.  Two of my friends will write their project on Political Theory. Najjibulah on ‘Mallam Aminu kano’ and Anas on ‘Abubakar Rimi’. I chose to write on Political Economy precisely on ‘World Trade Organization Trade Environment and Development’ if not could have write on’ Mallam Nasir EL-rufai’ because he is my role model and a Political Icon . After reading his book, I found it very interested to share with you.

In Tweet-bite The Accidental Public Servant is the story of a bright young man who graduated in Quantity Surveying at the top of his class, made early money and got called into public service where, under three different masters/principals, his brief was successively to help transfer power from soldiers to civilians; undertake the sale of government assets (privatization); and then, administer the allocation and sale of arguably the priciest real estate in Africa (Abuja). The book is an account of the people whom he met along the way, mostly in the inner sanctums of Nigerian power, how they bonded, fell out, suffered betrayals and what they learnt about one another, before he would be hounded, first into exile and then into opposition politics. Many people after this experience would become soaked in money and lives of vulgarity. It is a tribute to the author’s values that he chose after this experience to go back to school and to write a book.
This summary does not nearly enough do credit to the audacity of the story or the sweep of its narrative. The book has multiple identities, unfurled in multiple trinities, each like a little

(1 The Accidental Public Servant, p.57 2 Ibid., p. 23
3 Ibid., p. 16
2
Final) diamond – with a pointed and racy beginning; a somewhat portly, sometimes didactic middle section; with an equally breathless and pointed ending.
The trinities in The Accidental Public Servant are many. It is an account of public service mostly undertaken under three institutional acronyms: the PIMCO (Programme Implementation and Monitoring Committee); BPE (Bureau of Public Enterprises); and FCT (Federal Capital Territory (a.ka., Abuja). Our author unfolds in three persons – an activist professional/technocrat, a politician, and a family man. The story is a tale of service with three successive principals and Heads of State: a serving General, Abdulsalami Abubakar; a former General, Olusegun Obasanjo; the brother of a dead General, Umaru Musa Yar’Adua. There are some other significant characters, none more so, perhaps, than Atiku Abubakar, President Obasanjo’s Vice, whose Teflon qualities are evident in the account. The dysfunctional chemistry – or lack of it – between the author, Atiku and Obasanjo is indeed another of the book’s trinities. It also produced perhaps its memorable line when President Obasanjo tells the author: “my short friend, I have a duty to train you… to make sure you learn to work with everyone, not just people you like.”4 The book is also a story of bonds formed, betrayed and in various stages of re- constitution in the racy cauldron of Nigeria’s messy politics. And it is a story of the three options confronted by Nigeria in the transition after President Obasanjo’s Third Term debacle. At the personal level, the narrative fulsomely acknowledges the support of the author’s three spouses in the making of an outstandingly readable tale and career.

The story of The Accidental Public Servant is told in 17 chapters over 627 pages, including 38 pages of source notes; 90 pages of appendices and 490 pages of the author’s own narrative. There are another 60 pages of prefatory, introductory material, including a captivating insider account of the drama of President Obasanjo’s Third Term project as a prologue.
The Accidental Public Servant is both a bold story and a spirited defence of a tenure in Nigerian public life, sometimes perceived as controversial. Perhaps a little over half of the book is dedicated to the author’s tenures, first as the Director-General of the BPE and then as the Minister for the FCT. Six of the seventeen chapters are dedicated to various aspects of the latter and the various controversies that were to arise during that tenure.

The story has many sharp edges and the author does not leave the reader guessing about his positions on most issues. For instance, he thinks that Obasanjo is consistent “in putting his personal interest before that of the nation”,5 complains that Atiku Abubakar “actively undermined me and accused me of inappropriate behavior simply to get contracts for his friends”,6 and found the manner of the fund-raising for the Obasanjo Presidential Library simply
(4 Ibid., p. 126 5 Ibid., p. 460 6 Ibid., p. 232
3
Final)

“disgusting”.7 It is a tale told with committed clarity. It provides ample information as to not just decisions taken but also the reasons behind them. The reader does not have to agree with the conclusions. The author marshals ample material in support of his story and, in all fairness, provides evidence to support his occasional use of adjectives.

The Accidental Public Servant offers a forceful defence of the policies and decisions that the author took as Minister responsible for Abuja. Notable gaps, however, exist in the narrative; several aspects of this narrative could be argued; and some unevenness in cadence invite close attention.

Among the omissions, three are notable. First, the author narrates that he quit the ruling Peoples’ Democratic Party (PDP) in 2010 and rather laconically mentions elsewhere in the book that “as Ministers, we were given overnight party membership cards”, without providing details as to time, place or rationales.8 If Ministers could be appointed without party affiliation, why could they not serve out their terms without party affiliation and what were the reasons for their being whipped into a party? Did this affect their subsequent performance? Second, the author recalls that in the run up to the 2007 general elections, he was “doing more or less whatever the President usually assigned the Vice-President to oversee, like serving as a liaison with the electoral commission….”9 Given the appalling perversions committed by the electoral commission in 2007, the narrative could have provided greater information to explain what happened or enable the reader to exculpate him from or inculpate him in the crimes of electoral mis-management that characterized those elections. Thirdly, with ample space devoted in the book to the defence of the idea of Abuja, the author missed an opportunity to interrogate the Abuja project or examine whether any aspects of it could have been open to re-think. For instance, how proper is it to make the governance of such a limited resource as land (in Abuja) subject to the Ministerial caprice through the political economy of “allocation”? Should a political appointee such as a Minister have monopoly of decision making on such allocations? If not, how do you eliminate such an inherent architecture of abuse? Should there be specific rules governing conflicts of interest of the administration of various aspects of the FCT?
Equally troubling is the story in the book of the meeting with the FCT judiciary led by a man fondly described by the author as “my Barewa senior”, “for their support” and the confession that following this meeting, “the FCT judiciary supported us strongly throughout my tenure.”10 In the absence of more details about what manner of support this was, readers may ask legitimate questions as to whether this crossed the line into compromising the independence of judicial decision making. The role of the judiciary, after all, is not to support
(7 Ibid., p. 365 8 Ibid., p.416 9 Ibid. p. 365 10 Ibid., p. 202
4
Final) anyone as such but to administer the law fairly and impartially. Many of the commendable enforcement actions initiated by the author through the courts in the FCT remained uncompleted at the time of publication, long after he had left office, calling into question the institutional wherewithal of the FCT High Court.
The most obvious differences in cadence are in the treatment of four characters in the book that, by reason of death, are no longer around to speak for themselves. These are:

Waziri Mohammed, late former Chairman of the Nigerian Railway Corporation and alleged arrow-head of President Obasanjo’s Third Term bid, who was tragically killed in an air crash;

Chief J.U. Igweh, proprietor of Bolingo Hotels in Abuja, who, was killed in the same air crash with Waziri;

Justice Bashir Sambo, former Chairman of the Code of Conduct Tribunal; and

President Umaru Musa Yar’Adua, also the author’s senior at Barewa.

To these four, the author applies three different narrative standards. He introduces Waziri into the narrative on Third Term namelessly merely as “an Ahmadu Bello University (ABU) alumnus and friend who chaired the board of a federal parastatal and was very close to Obasanjo.”11 Most readers would struggle to identify who this is about. With respect to Chief Igweh, the author limits himself to a narration of the official interaction.

Similarly, with Justice Bashir Sambo, the author acknowledges that following his death in April 2007, he (the author) “remained silent because the man could no longer defend himself”,12 and tastefully limits himself to disclosure of the official correspondence in the matter. Although it is possible to deduce possible reasons from the text, the author offers no explicit explanation, however, as to why he fails to extend this standard of restraint to the parts of the narrative relating to President Yar’Adua, whose High School nickname, the author discloses, was “Bad Man.”13 In hind sight, he may consider that this could have been essential to a better understanding of this part of his story.

In recalling the public statement issued on 2 December 2010 by the collective initially known as G-55 which later became G-57 asking President Yar’Adua to vacate office, the author narrates that this was followed by “initial set back, when, under pressure from the NSA, Abdullahi Sarki Mukhtar, some of the people dissociated themselves from the statement claiming that ‘they did not sign’ any statement.”14 This contains a factual inaccuracy. This
(11 Ibid., xlvi
12 Ibid., p. 272 13 Ibid., p. 369 14 Ibid., p. 429
5
Final) Reviewer is one of the people that “dissociated” themselves from the statement. No one called me about this and, surely, no one put any pressure on me to do so. The fact is I thought it was plainly poor organizing and utter bad manners for anyone to associate me with a document – no matter how well intentioned – whose contents no one had made any prior effort to inform me about. I still think so.

The production of The Accidental Public Servant is professionally done. The book is not marred by habitual editorial slippages that often mar a lot of our books, although a few slippages nevertheless intrude. Anoraks may wish that the Indexing at the end of the book could have been a little more comprehensive and the appendices were better clustered. The quality of the product nevertheless is excellent.

On the whole, this is a book by a brother who must make many of us feel proud to be Nigerian and which must restore our faith in the project of nation building. Anyone considering public service in Nigeria would do well to consult this book, or, if you have access to him, its author. You do not have to agree with everything in it but it is a compelling read with jaw- dropping disclosures on every other page and compelling lessons dripping from most of its paragraphs. The disclosures in this book will surely inform and possibly affect the landscape of Nigerian politics. Even if they don’t, this book is likely to inspire spirited conversations that should enrich citizenship and political participation in Nigeria.

For this and more, Nasir Ahmad El-Rufai deserves our gratitude for memorializing his record of public service and for courageously inviting public scrutiny of that record. Many more who preceded him in public life and all who do so after him should do well to accept his invitation to “document their experiences and tell their sides of the story.”15

TITLE: THE ACCIDENTAL PUBLIC SERVANT AUTHOR: NASIR AHMAD EL-RUFAI PUBLISHER: SAFARI BOOKS LTD IBADAN YEAR: 2013
PAGES: 627 PAGES
PRICE: N5,000 (SOFTBACK)/N10,000 (HARDCOVER