In remembrance of a great man (II)

On this page last week, I promised that to keep his memory afresh, I would bring more anecdotes on Sir Ahmadu Bello Sardaunan Sokoto, the Premier of Northern Nigeria, who was brutally murdered during the holy Ramadan month of 1966.  We have always had the picture of the Sardauna looking unapproachable in heavily embroidered gowns […]

On this page last week, I promised that to keep his memory afresh, I would bring more anecdotes on Sir Ahmadu Bello Sardaunan Sokoto, the Premier of Northern Nigeria, who was brutally murdered during the holy Ramadan month of 1966. 

We have always had the picture of the Sardauna looking unapproachable in heavily embroidered gowns complete with a heavy turban. You wouldn’t expect jokes, banters and hearty laughter from such a personality. But the Sardauna enjoyed all these and even more.

I have never met the Sardauna but I have read a lot that has been written about him. Ibrahim Biu, Northern Nigeria’s longest serving Minister of Information worked closely with the Sardauna in Kaduna and toured a lot with him both within the country and abroad. Obviously he had many stories to tell about him. Many of the stories he told are contained in the very well-documented memoir ‘Humility and Service – the life of Alhaji Ibrahim Biu’ written by Dr. Haruna Yerima.

Ibrahim Biu was a phenomenon. Born in 1922, he became a teacher in 1943 in Biu Native Authority after middle school, as was the norm then. He later went into politics gaining a seat as a member of the Northern People’s Congress (NPC) in the Northern Region Assembly. He was appointed a Minister initially for Information and later for Water Resources. After the life of their government was terminated by gun-toting soldiers in 1966, he returned home to Biu to take up the post of councillor in the native authority. When states were created, shortly, in 1968, he was appointed a Commissioner of Education in North Eastern State and remained in the same beat till 1975 – when I look back I find that was a substantial portion of my secondary school and university days. He died in 2002 at the ripe age of 80, literally with the harness on his back, as a permanent member of the Code of Conduct Bureau. 

I came to be acquainted with the venerable personage in the late-1980s when I headed the political desk in Borno State Governor’s office. It was the practice then to pay visits to elders occasionally to sound their opinions on issues so as to enrich the Political Department’s analyses of events. I relished visiting him. He lived a short distance away from my house in the commissioners’ quarters in the Maiduguri GRA, and I was always welcomed to his sparsely-furnished sitting room. A raconteur of the first degree, down to earth, with no pretence of snobbishness, Ibrahim Biu would keep one enthralled with anecdotes particularly if the discussion turns to his favourite subjects, the Sardauna, Sir Kashim Ibrahim and Zanna Bukar Dipcharima – the last two were his teachers in the middle school and also mentors who piloted him through the turbulent Borno political waters.  

 This excerpt is from the book,’ Humility and Service – the life of Alhaji Ibrahim Biu’ written by Dr. Haruna Yerima.

‘It was on October 1, 1960, when the Premier of the Northern Region, Alhaji Ahmadu Bello called me. In fact, we used to go to his house to greet him in the morning and sometimes in the evening to discuss party issues for there was no way one could separate government issues from party interest. When I greeted him that day, he said “Ibrahim Biu” and I answered “ranka ya dade” (may you live long) then he said “I will appoint you a minister”. He told me that directly. I was dumbfounded.

 I was taken aback, but I was able to gather myself together and to utter my gratitude: “na gode, Allah ya sa ka gaji Ubanka” (may you be like your father). He quickly said, “Ubanka? How can I appoint you minister and you abuse me”? I quickly said “no sir, mahaifinka”. In Hausa they don’t want to say “ubanka” the Hausa see it as an abuse, they prefer “Babanka” or “Mahaifinka”, though all of them mean father. I am Babur from Biu in Borno province, how could I know these differences. Later, in the evening, he told some ministers that he appointed me a minister but instead of thanking him, I abused him. He said “Ibrahim Biu” and I replied sir, “Na baka minister kuma ka zage ni ba” (I appointed you a minister yet you insulted me?). I replied, no “Ranka ya dade wane ni (May you live long, who am I?). The other ministers laughed and laughed. For a long time, they teased me with that.’

‘One day, we went to Mubi and one praise singer was shouting at the top of his voice in praise of Sardauna. The praise singer was so carried away that he said Sardauna da na kwarai, ka wuce Shehu Usman Dan Fodio, (Sardauna the true son, you surpass Shehu Usman Dan Fodio). To the surprise of everybody, Sardauna got up from his seat and called the man and told him point blank that he was lying: Karya kake, ban kai ma takalmin Shehu Usman Dan Fodio ba. You are telling lies, I am not up to Shehu Usman Dan Fodio’s shoes).’

In my last piece I introduced Ambassador Yahaya Kwande, Divisional Officer in Kano and Borno Provinces, Permanent Secretary in Benue-Plateau State, accomplished businessman and politician. He worked in the Premier’s office and had many hilarious encounters with the Sardauna which he documented in his autobiography, ‘The making of a Northern Nigerian’. This excerpt is also taken from the book:

‘The Sardauna worked to carve out an identity for the Northerner. He wanted the Northerner to take pride in himself, to believe in himself. One of the ways he sought to do this was with our mode of dressing. It came to be known that any Northerner who wanted to see the Premier must be dressed in the babbanriga before he could have audience with him. This way he popularised the babbanriga, making it the official attire of the people – the trademark of the Northerner.

I remember that the only occasion he ever showed annoyance with me was when I breached that precious policy of his. I had just returned then from the United Kingdom after my Devonshire course in the Oxford University. Naturally, by my stay in England I had acquired some of the English habits, especially with respect to dressing; as a matter of fact, I came back with quite some load of English-cut suits, unaware that the babbanriga was preferred for the Northern civil servant.

I was staying at the Plateau Hotel, Jos, on my return to the country when I learnt that the Premier had, himself, come into town and was staying at the Hill Station Hotel. Really feeling smart and confident in my suit, I set out to pay him a courtesy call. I was shocked to notice how disappointed he felt at seeing my dressing, proceeding immediately to present me with a newest set of babbanriga which I changed into right away.

As soon as I stepped out to the road, the rain started falling and got me thoroughly drenched. So I returned to the hotel room, changed back to my suit and went out again after the rain had ceased. By a cruel coincidence, when I came out to the main road, there was the Sardauna approaching in his car! The car slowed down beside me and he called out:

“Mr John White! When will you be going back to England?” Then he drove off again before I could gather my wits to offer any explanation.’ 

We shall conclude next week with anecdotes from Magaji Danbatta who was Chief Information Officer of the Northern Region. Keep a date with this page.