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
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.
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 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)
(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:
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.
(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
PAGES: 627 PAGES
PRICE: N5,000 (SOFTBACK)/N10,000 (HARDCOVER
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