Failed biography of Hassan Usman Katsina

Though I had been hearing about him since my childhood, I got to meet General Hassan, as Kaduna folks called him, for the first time in 1992. The circumstances were complicated. In 1992 many small books were being written by various authors and were being launched at Kaduna’s then thriving Durbar Hotel. As an assistant […]

Failed biography of Hassan Usman Katsina
Failed biography of Hassan Usman Katsina

Though I had been hearing about him since my childhood, I got to meet General Hassan, as Kaduna folks called him, for the first time in 1992. The circumstances were complicated. In 1992 many small books were being written by various authors and were being launched at Kaduna’s then thriving Durbar Hotel. As an assistant editor at Citizen magazine I attended many of the launches, including one on the biography of the Wazirin Katsina Alhaji Isa Kaita by his nephew and eventual successor Alhaji Sani Lugga. Around that time my friend Mohammed Bello was invited to write a biography of Alhaji Abdurrahman Okene and he asked for my help.
At Citizen’s weekly editorial conference some days later, the subject turned to book writing. I suggested to Citizen’s managing director Malam Mohammed Haruna that he should persuade General Hassan to write his biography. Haruna served on the board of National Oil when the General was its chairman. Haruna took my suggestion seriously and that afternoon he went to see General Hassan. The General readily agreed, saying no one ever approached him with the suggestion. He asked Haruna if he will write the book. My boss said he was too busy but he suggested that I should write it since it was my idea. The General demurred and we thought that was the end of it.
A week later I received a message saying General Hassan said I should go and see Malam Liman Ciroma, former Secretary to the Federal Government and Head of the Civil Service. I was not told why I should see Malam Liman; maybe that was how the vaunted “Kaduna Mafia” worked in those days. Malam Mohamed Bomoi took me to see Malam Liman, who promptly launched into a general discussion of world affairs ranging from the Falklands and Balkan wars to the anthropological history of Malays, the Middle East conflict, Nigerian civil war etc. Whenever he paused I slipped in a comment. It was only later that I realised that General Hassan sent me to Malam Liman for him to test me and determine whether I could write a book. I apparently passed the test because a few days later, the General sent word that I should come and start work on his biography.
My boss Haruna asked me to prepare a budget and I drew up one of N40,000. This was a tidy sum in 1992; my monthly salary then was 1,200 naira. Before you can say “pittance,” the last salary I received as a university lecturer two years earlier was N650 a month. Citizen could not afford it so Haruna took this budget to General Hassan. He was so interested in the work that he wrote out a personal cheque for N40,000 in Citizen’s name. I applied for and got N1,500 out of this money, with which I went to the ABU Bookshop in Zaria and bought any book I could find related to the period in which General Hassan was in the thick of events. Mostly this was the 1966 crises period, the Civil War and the Gowon regime. It was the only money I spent on the project. General Hassan also supplied to me his CV as well as a list of 40 persons who could shed more light on his life. Most of them were military officers but he included some of his relatives such as Alhaji Lawal Kaita and his civilian friends such as Alhaji Aminu Dantata.
Next, I wrote out a 30-section interview plan. It included General Hassan’s early life, the schools he attended, his enrolment into the military, military training and career, the crisis of 1966, his military governorship of the North, ICSA, the civil war, the post-war period, the Gowon regime, the 1975 coup and his later life including being Ciroman Katsina, polo playing and family. I took this outline to General Hassan. He read it slowly and nodded in approval. However, he said I should first go and interview all the persons he suggested in his list before I could interview him. “Obey before complain,” as soldiers say. I went and prepared a letter, then went to the Post Office in Kaduna and despatched it to most persons in the list. I also went round Kaduna in my old Fiat car and delivered letters to the houses of many others. Nearly half of them replied, including the then Army Chief Lt Gen Salihu Ibrahim. His letter was signed by his staff officer Lt Col L. J. Isa, later Military Administrator of Kaduna State.
Having done that I went back to General Hassan and said it was better if I interviewed him first, so that when I interview the other persons it is merely to fill gaps in the story. He reluctantly agreed but said he had many travel plans so we should do the interview during the Ramadan period. This was in February-March 1993. When Ramadan approached I went to him again to ask for a time. General Hassan spoke English with very strong Hausa accent. He said, “Come at two sate.” He was also abit absent minded; as I was leaving he said, “Four sate.” I stopped and asked whether he meant 2.30 or 4.30 and he said, “Two sate!”
I went to his house at 2.30pm everyday during that year’s Ramadan. As soon as I arrived his secretary Alhaji Abubakar Senior will pack his files and leave. General Hassan promptly turned me into his replacement secretary. I would spend 90 minutes with him and hardly get 10 minutes of interview. He had three telephones and every few minutes one of them rang. He was fond of telephones; he taught me to answer every call, find out who was on the line, call the name aloud and then hand the receiver over to him. Sometimes he will chat for 30 minutes while I kept glancing at the wall clock since my session with him must end promptly at 4pm.
In all that time General Hassan never mentioned my name. If he wanted to attract my attention he will say, “Kai dan Nigerian Citizen.” That is, “You from Nigerian Citizen.” I was from Citizen but Nigerian Citizen was the name of the old newspaper published by the Northern Regional Government prior to the advent of New Nigerian in 1966. Small visitors were kept away during my stay with him but VIP visitors could not be stopped. One day the Commandant of Nigeria Defence Academy Lt General M. B. Haladu came in just when I was setting up my tape recorder and he took up all my 90 minutes.
Sometimes when he finished a phone call, General Hassan will discuss the issue with me. He told me one day how unhappy he was when General Yakubu Gowon came to his house to tell him that he was going to contest for president in the Option A4 NRC primaries. He said he pleaded with Gowon “ya rufa mana asiri,” that is, protect our dignity. The General saw his dignity and fate as inexorably linked to his old boss’s and he felt devastated when Gowon was defeated in Zaria Local Government by Dr. Dalhatu Sarki Tafida. On another occasion when he finished a phone call, he told me it was the National Security Adviser General Aliyu Gusau. The General had complained to him about a story that one Musa Ajogi did in his magazine alleging that General Hassan had a hand in Sardauna’s death. I had never seen him as angry as on that occasion. General Gusau offered to send a lawyer so he could sue Ajogi, a suggestion General Hassan scoffed at.
One day I arrived for the interview and found the General signing invitation letters for a Barewa Old Boys Association [BOBA] meeting. I was made to hand the letters to him one by one for signature, then put them in envelops. Before he signed one letter he asked me, “What is the Emir of Agaie’s Barewa College number?” I said, “Sir, I don’t know.” He said, “It is 500-and-so. Write it!” Then he picked up the letter and said, “How do you write bagadoji?” I was aware that was the Nupe form of ranka ya dade but I was not sure how it is written. The General wrote it in Hausa and asked me to confirm if it is correct. I again pleaded that I did not know.
One day when I was leaving, the General reached for his purse and said, “Let me give you something to break your fast.” He brought out a N50 note and extended it to me. I briefly debated whether I should decline but I decided that would be too dangerous. The amount was very small even by 1992 standards but then, in Hausa tradition, a royal gift is valued not because of its material value but for its symbolism.
By the time Ramadan ended I had covered four sections of my interview outline out of 30. We never resumed because the General fell sick not long afterwards. Sometime in 1994 I entered a small bookshop in Kaduna and bought a small book. It was the biography of General Hassan’s grandfather, Emir Muhammadu Dikko, written by Walin Katsina Muhammadu Bello Kagara. In the foreword he talked about how Emir Dikko, at the urging of the colonial Resident, provided ample time for the interview by going with him to a guest house on Katsina city outskirts in 1940. I went to the General’s house to show him how his grandfather did it but I could not see him.
 On July 24, 1995 I arrived at the residence of Malam Umaru Yar’adua at Badarawa on appointment. The future president met me at the door and said, “Let’s go for the funeral.” I said, “Sir, who died?” He said, “General Hassan,” so we went together to the funeral. There I saw Generals Sani Abacha and Ibrahim Babangida appearing together in public for the first time since 1993. May Allah grant General Hassan Usman Katsina eternal rest in Aljannah.