A Conversation With Two Millennials

A recurring experience of a columnist is the practice of readers doing rejoinders, ver­bal or written, to his/her views. Not every reader will agree or feel good about a piece of writ­ing. That is why readers come with either kudos or knocks and a columnist should be large hearted enough to receive both in whatever measure. A great deal of the responses are condi­tioned by sentiments defined by ethnic, religious, political, age, class and other factors that the writer probably didn’t consid­er as something that will ruffle feathers. But it is a free world and everybody has a right to think and to think differently. We all cannot talk about a glass that is half empty all the time. Some other fellow will see it as half full. Such is life as it is conditioned by choices, in­formation and necessities. My attitude to rejoinders, whether kind or unkind, is to welcome them. One must be tolerant of others opinions no matter what. It is also delightful to know that people read what you write and even care and take their time to respond. This knowledge helps and keeps the writer going even when the rejoinder is acerbic.

My last article “Is this Anoth­er Season of Omen for Africa?” became the subject of a long conversation between myself and two millennials some days after it was published. What became an expository dialogue began with a text message ask­ing if I was available to talk and when I would be free to do so. My response was yes and now. Within a second my phone rang. The caller’s voice was young and enthusiastic. A male caller, he immediately told me that his phone was on speaker because he and his younger brother wanted to discuss the said arti­cle with me. I was impressed. He went straight to the point and told me that their father made them to read the piece under reference. I asked them if they were regular readers and their response was an emphatic no. I asked them their age and why their father wanted them to read the article. The elder was twenty, while the younger one was eighteen. Their response was that they had been wishing that the scenario in Niger and Gabon should play out in Nige­ria, but their father was fiercely opposed to it. So, when he read my stance that coup was not the way to go and that the people and not soldiers should work for the evolution of a new Ni­geria, he asked them to read the article to enable them to amend their views.

So, I asked if the article achieved their father’s aim, they said they were not sure and that was why they wanted us to talk. I smiled because I knew I had some task at hand convincing difficult to convince millennials. They asked why I wrote against coups despite the general state of affairs in Afri­ca and Nigeria. They wanted to know if I was comfortable and if I was holding any political of­fice. They insisted that people were tired of the way things are and that they didn’t understand the reason for my view. They wanted explanations and an­swers. I smiled and I knew I had to play the teacher before the duo. I cleared my voice to begin when they politely requested that the call should be convert­ed to video using WhatsApp. I obliged them after some hesi­tation. Then their giggling, but curious faces showed up on the screen.

I questioned them about what I thought they should know in social studies, history and government, but my inter­locutors starred back blank. Then I told them about how coups destroyed Africa begin­ning with Togo where the saint­ly Sylvanus Olympio was not only overthrown in 1963, but was shot dead by one of his guards, then Sergeant Gnas­ingbe Eyadema. The boys were shocked and asked why the Ser­geant shot him. I fast-forwarded to that cold harmattan morning of Saturday 15th January, 1966 when the coup genie located Ni­geria. I asked them if they ever heard of the Five Majors and they shook their head. I then told them about that bloody night during which soldiers killed political leaders and fel­low soldiers. I recounted how Brigadier Maimalari who host­ed an evening party to celebrate his marriage to a new wife was killed that night by the same soldiers who ate and drank to their fill at his party. The Brig­adier had actually escaped and while in hiding he saw the car of his second in command and hoping he would be safe called out to him and the fellow shot him. The two boys froze with the look on their faces. I men­tioned the case of Brigadier Ademulegun who was killed to­gether with his pregnant wife. Colonels Ralph Sodeinde and Kur Mohammed were killed. Lt. Cols. Victor Pam and Abo­go Largema were shot dead by their subordinates that night. Two buddies Lt. Cols Yakubu Gowon and David Ejoor escaped death as the former passed the night with his fiancée while the latter changed his hotel room.

The political leaders, Abuba­kar Tafawa-Balewa, Festus Oko­tie-Eboh, Ladoke Akintola and Ahmadu Bello were all killed. The boys hollered “haaa.” Then the revenge coup of July 29th 1966 that killed Major General Aguiyi-Ironsi and the tide of blood that followed. Next was the Nigerian Civil War that claimed millions of lives and limbs. I asked if they had read Adichie’s Half of a Yellow Sun and their response was no. I asked them to get a copy. I told them about the 1976 Dimka coup and its bloody aftermath. I told them how Babangida ex­ecuted Vatsa for whom he was best man at his marriage over allegation of coup plotting only for one Bali to wake up twen­ty years after to say that there was no strong enough evidence to justify the killing of Vatsa. I told them about Gideon Orkar and other young revolution­aries executed by Babangida. Then the one hundred and sixty young officers, Orkar’s course mates, who perished in the Ejigbo plane crash in Septem­ber 1992! Coups breed sad and poor widows as well as helpless orphans. I told them about the bloody coups in Ghana where Rawlings executed all past leaders, in Liberia where Doe executed generations of lead­ers, while himself suffered the same fate in 1990, in Burkina Faso where Campaore killed his friend, the noble and valiant Sankara in a coup. I told them about how coups foisted mili­tary dictatorship on Africa and how the dictators from Mobu­tu to Idi-Amin to Bokassa and Abacha brutalized the citizenry.

I asked them if they heard of Dele Giwa, June 12, or of MKO Abiola or Kudirat Abiola or Ken Saro-Wiwa or Gani Fawehinmi or Beko Ransome-Kuti. They re­sponded in the negative and I knew as I have always suspect­ed that we now have a genera­tion without history. And how can a nation with a generation, and soon generations, without history survive? The ruling class of today and the preced­ing ones were on a diet rich in history, but they still bungled and led us into this dark alley. By the time I wanted to take my interlocutors through the wounds inflicted on us by sol­diers in power, they had agreed with me without a scintilla of doubt that coup should not even be an option. One coup begets another. And the fact that one coup begets another shows that coups are not the solution. The accusations the coup plotter of today levelled against the oust­ed are the same reiterated by the coup plotter of tomorrow. My interlocutors became quite sober and wanted me to talk more. But I politely ended the conversation. They asked if they could call me whenever they wanted to talk and I an­swered in the affirmative. They promised to tell their parents to host me whenever I visit Lagos, but I knew that would be a long time because the road that leads to Lagos is no more, at least for now!

Military coups destroyed Af­rica and created banana repub­lics and rogue states. Besides gross human rights abuse and unbridled corruption, military rule will unhinge the constitu­tion and retard national devel­opment. The economy suffers during military regimes as no reasonable planning and pro­jections can take place. Soldiers in politics are plunderers and they answer to nobody. Military rule will shrink if not obliter­ate the civic space of today. Cit­izens will lose their freedoms and their collective psyche will be badly bruised. It will re­verse the gains of the past two decades and set us back sixty years. We are not yet a democ­racy, but we have taken the ten­tative steps towards being one and our move must be forward ever and backward never. Let us embrace civic and political education and let every Nige­rian be a worker for a new na­tion, a new Nigeria. Bodies like ASUU, ASUP, COEASU, NBA, NUT, NUJ and civil society or­ganizations must take on the responsibility of educating Ni­gerians for the task of building a new nation. Now, let us go to work. It shall be well with us.

• Prof Awhefeada is a colum­nist in the Daily Independent