The street is Red

I have an appeal upfront. Those in power today, should remember tomorrow. Oh, that sounds like a cliche? Yeah, but I have a story to tell for making that plea, because nothing, especially power, lasts forever.

Does anyone still remember now-late Mustapha Adebayo Balogun, better known as Tafa “Igiripa {the hefty one} Balogun? He was the disgraced Inspector General of Police between March 2002 and January 2005.

At the height of his “power’, he was almost invincible to the many credible corruption allegations against him. The News magazine even ran a cover on him with the screaming headline “The Greedy Police Boss, with his huge fleshy face, dangling from the cover of the edition. He threatened fire and brimstone, hiring senior lawyers to demand an apology. Many journalists rushed to his defence. Countless CSOs were standing in purchased solidarity with him, dressing him in the unmerited robe of police saint-patron. He almost got away as the Teflon Don of the Force, the one who is impervious to even the kitchen sink. Then at the height of his arrogance, he moved against one of his alleged “couriers” a certain Tolu Jinadu, son of popular Lagos chief, Fola Jinadu, for allegedly ripping off the rip-off master. By every standard, the said “boy” who reportedly conned Tafa for N5 million, was a nobody compared to a police boss at the height of his glory. Then the alleged bribe “courier” began to sign and tabled the petition that careened Tafa’s career into infamy, before the EFCC after a month in detention on Tafa’s order. Chief Jinadu told The Sun newspaper he unsuccessfully mediated the N5 million debacle between his son and then-IGP.

Being a man of immense power and authority, Balogun believed he could get away with anything because of his high pedestal. Then, his descent began. First, with the exonerating report he authored to clear double-convict James Ibori, which then President Olusegun Obasanjo allegedly flung at his face when presented to him. Then the hunt by Nuhu Ribadu, then EFCC boss, who said he swore to get his then-boss at all costs the day he went to the Force headquarters for an official business and had to climb the stairs because there was no diesel to power the generating set of the Police national headquarters, despite billions of naira, yearly allocated to the Force. As a reporter in Abuja when Nuhu began Tafa’s prosecution, I witnessed two situations that should serve as a double-header lesson to today’s men of power, about the emptiness of the authority and power they wield today

After the humiliation of Ribadu bringing Tafa to court in cuffs, which riled so many retired senior police officers, the day the accused was granted bail, Ribadu ensured that he would not breathe a whiff of freedom. The moment the court rose, EFCC’s officers, obviously acting on Ribadu’s orders, swooped on Balogun to re-arrest him and in the ensuing melee, the former IGP fell and the “crazy” Ribadu boys ran the tyres of their operational car on his legs, leaving everyone in court including yours sincerely, gasping in horror. He let out a loud yell, writhing in pains as his legs dangled under the vehicle. His lawyer, Tunji Abayomi was livid. There was commotion everywhere. The breaking news shovelled a measure of public sympathy back to the embattled top cop. He would end up in hospital. As I watched the man everyone used to salute, rolling on the floor like a spanked naughty child, I shook my head in disbelief.

The second unforgettable moment of his saga was the eve of the ruling on his case by the prosecuting federal high court, after he had entered a plea deal on his N13 billion fraud case, agreeing to forfeit about N4 billion and go to jail for six months. A friend handling PR for him came to town and asked me to be with him, while visiting his  “client”. We went to Tafa’s residence. The entire area that used to swim with police security, was almost a ghost house. Then we were ushered in by a maid. Tafa was on the bed, looking sickly all over and somewhat bloating. He couldn’t walk to the bathroom. The maid was using hand towel to clean him up as he laid on the bed, almost finding it difficult to move his body. How he could attend the sentencing the next date, was a miracle. But he could talk and was still mouthing his innocence, to the few friends around and us. As he laid half-naked on that bed, with his legs looking ravaged by edema, I kept wondering if anything, was worth anything.

Well, Tafa was eventually jailed and Ribadu got his wish. Ribadu is in power today, playing an outsized role in the Tinubu presidency as the National Security Officer. I will never wish anyone up there evil, but Yoruba will always warn with “eni jin si koto, o ko awon toku logbon” {the one who fell into the pit is a lesson to others}, especially if the others were also active when the pit was being dug and the fallen fellow, was being loaded in. A word should be enough for the wise.

On Thursday I witnessed a frightening scenario in Ikosi/Ketu area of Lagos. I returned to the UBA branch where I parked my vehicle to see a white Jeep vertically parked in the middle of the road, narrowing movement to a snail speed. I saw people animatedly discussing. There was no one inside. Where is the driver, I enquired from the UBA security. They told me he chased after a tricycle passenger who assaulted him. After minutes of turning the traffic in the area on its head, the man returned with blood dripping from his nose and mouth. I beckoned at him. He repeated the story. He is a driver to his Madam, visiting the house opposite the UBA branch and he was waiting for gate to be opened for him to park the car properly after Madam had alighted, only for the said passenger to step down, and rain blows on his head and face, all the while being egged on by the tricycle rider. Like many others, I was fuming. I know Nigeria is almost a jungle, but men can’t become animals in the name of being frustrated. I had to delay my home trip, to ensure the man didn’t go home completely helpless and hopeless. He had traced the rider though the two ruinous guys fled after the heinous act. I told him he was wrong to leave his vehicle in the middle of the road, because he could run into a bigger problem with the law or possibly get it stolen. I then promised not to leave until his Madam would show up and readily seen to be seeking justice for him.

The Madam was sent for. I engaged with her and was happy that she was taking immediate step to redress the situation. Ikosi/Ketu is a notorious slum, despite the local government headquarters located there. Most of the tricycle riders there are political thugs, always “high”. They derive their confidence from the perceived standing of their patrons. But the Madam appears up to the task and I left relieved that the two animals would be made to pay.

I worry about the ease with which people get angered these days. Days before the incident narrated here, I had witnessed two young guys in a slugfest over little scratches on their vehicles, navigating a narrow road in Shangisha. In the course of throwing wild punches, the trousers of the aggressor pulled up, revealing what appeared like a major medical procedure on one of his legs. The heavily bandaged leg looked like it was going to collapse under the strain of the fight. I watched helplessly, because separating two fighting isn’t my thing. A fellow who stepped in was badly roughened up.

What I found very worrisome is onlookers just shrugging and tagging them Yahoo boys doing their things because the younger fellow was wearing a dread and his Mercedes Benz yet registered. All what many onlookers saw was a show.

Maybe it is just me, but I see more humanity being drained from Nigerians as government policies widen the poverty net. Those who had no business being in it, are now therein because this government doesn’t seem to know when it is enough. Nigerians seem to be directing their aggregation and frustration at one another now, but it may not be too long before they unite to direct it at government at all levels, especially those seen as the cats luxuriating in the fattening room oiled by the public purse.

I checked the Arab Spring data between December 18, 2010 and January 25, 2011. From Tunisia to Algeria, Libya, Jordan, Mauritania, Sudan, Oman, Yemen, Egypt, Syria, Morocco, and Iraq, there was a pattern to the trigger; self-immolation.

None of the governments in power survived citizens setting themselves ablaze due to biting official policies. I hope we are not getting there. I pray we never do.

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