Vacancy for Mr. Fix It

T he most memorable fixing job that Chief Tony Anenih did during his long and controversial career as President Olusegun Obasanjo’s “Mr. Fix It” was in 2002 when he declared, a year ahead of the 2003 elections, that there was “no vacancy” in Aso Rock. I had the chance to ask Chief Anenih why he […]

T
he most memorable fixing job that Chief Tony Anenih did during his long and controversial career as President Olusegun Obasanjo’s “Mr. Fix It” was in 2002 when he declared, a year ahead of the 2003 elections, that there was “no vacancy” in Aso Rock. I had the chance to ask Chief Anenih why he made that poisonous declaration when he invited me to dinner, along with a few others, at his house in Asokoro sometime in 2013.

The Chief tried to sound very reasonable on that occasion. He said what he meant was that the incumbent president was standing for re-election. I interjected that the incumbent’s tenure was to end in 2003. Therefore, as far as the Constitution was concerned, there was a vacancy. He however went on to explain at length that his statement was not meant to foreclose voters’ choices but merely to emphasise that the incumbent was in the ring. May the soul of Chief Tony Anenih rest in perfect peace but I still think that statement signposted the do-or-die attitude with which the Obasanjo administration approached the 2003 election.

To mention but one evidence, a minister from one Northern state invited all the top federal civil servants from his state to dinner in Abuja. When they assembled, he launched into a long talk about how they should all help PDP to recapture their home state. One of them, a director in federal service, stood up and said from what he could see, all of them were civil servants and he did not see what they had to do with politics. To which the minister replied that he had been told [by the Presidency] that their desire to win the 2003 general election was “total” and that anyone who stood in its path “will be crushed.” Everyone present fell silent.

It was not the first time that Chief Tony Anenih played a controversial role in national politics. The first one was in 1993 when, as National Chairman of SDP, he readily accepted the IBB regime’s annulment of a presidential election won by his own party’s candidate. He announced SDP’s readiness to go for another election, which somehow never took place. The following year, during the Constitutional Conference convened by the Abacha regime, General Shehu Yar’adua sponsored a motion to fix a date by which the military government must hand over power to civilians. Chief Anenih countered with a motion to give Abacha a “blank cheque” to determine his tenure. I was editor of The Sentinel magazine [owned by General Yar’adua] at the time and we splashed Abacha on the cover, frowning in his dark glasses. Across the picture we boldly wrote, “A blank cheque for this man?”

Anyway, Chief Anenih was a very gracious host at that dinner. He kept asking for bottles of his special red wine to be brought out and he urged all his guests to take a sip. I politely declined. It reminded of my visit to a vineyard in southern France in 1996 as part of a tour. The aristocratic owner regaled us with the 400-year history of his vineyard and offered everyone a sip of his special brew, which I politely declined as well. Having declined to taste a historic wine in southern France, I was not tempted by Mr. Fix It’s imported wine.

Chief Anenih told a regaling story on that day. It was prompted by a dinner guest who asked about the compact new house he just built in Benin, and Anenih answered by telling us where he got the money. He said every now and then, General T.Y. Danjuma went for an early-morning walk on his street, often stopped by in Anenih’s house and asked for either tea or a bottle of Coke. Anenih never saw him because T.Y. always said there was no need to wake Anenih up. One day however, after he drank the Coke, T.Y. asked that Anenih be awakened. T.Y. said he wanted to thank him for his friendship when they served together in Obasanjo’s cabinet in 1999-2003. He then asked Anenih for his account number. Anenih said his secretary sent the account number to T.Y.’s secretary and pronto! An amount of dollars landed it. I refuse to mention the amount because I was not authorized to do so [wink, wink].

Anyway, I was thinking at the weekend that President Buhari needs a Mr. Fix It in his own circle. The mess that attended to the APC primaries would not have happened if there was a true Mr. Fix It in Anenih’s mould. Right now, party chairman Adams Oshiomhole cashed in on the lack of a presidential fixer and pursued an agenda that could be to the president’s electoral detriment next year. In case Buhari decides to appoint a Mr. Fix It ahead of 2019, the Fixer should not announce that there is no vacancy. He should simply go ahead and ensure that there is none. If the Presidency is at a loss for the Fixer’s official title, let me suggest one. Adviser Extraordinary to the President and Plenipotentiary for Electoral Matters, Party Unity and Obstacle Clearance.

India’s man-eating Indian tigress

At the weekend I saw a story on the wires about the shooting of a tigress in India. The report said, “A man-eating tigress, believed to be responsible for killing 13 people in Western India, was shot dead after an elaborate hunt involving forest guards and sharpshooters…The six-year-old cat, nicknamed Avni, had claimed the lives of villagers near the Ralegaon forest in Maharashtra State’s Yavatmal District since June 2016…The state forest department had hired an expert hunter and sharpshooter, and mounted an extensive operation involving nearly 200 personnel, trap cameras, drones, a pack of trained sniffer dogs and a hang-glider to trace her” during a three-month search.

Man-eating tigers have been a recurring decimal in India for decades. This story reminded me of an episode that occurred when I was in Form Two. During the English lesson, students took turns to read from a textbook a story from British colonial- era India titled “Face to face with a man-eating tigress.”  The textbook we read from was supplied by the school and three of us in my class had no copies.

Whenever the English teacher Mr. S.T. Vadakel [who was an Indian] was about to start his lesson, the three of us will ask for permission to go to the next class and borrow the textbook. He was irritated by it and he said since the English lesson was immediately after Long Break, we should use the break period to borrow the books instead of disrupting his lesson.

Trust me to forget. The following day when Mr. Vadakel was about to start the lesson, I asked for permission to go and borrow a textbook. He refused permission. He also said I should stand up and read the story. I made to borrow the textbook from the student near me but Mr. Vadakel said no, I should not take anyone’s book and I should start reading. So I stood erect and started, “Once upon a time there was a tigress in India that killed many people…”

The story was about a British colonial officer who organized a hunt for it. I went on and on. Usually, a student was told to stop after a few sentences for another student to take over but Mr. Vadakel let me read on and on. Unknown even to myself, I had already memorized the entire story because the class was on it for two weeks. I finally said, “As he came around a small hill, he found himself face to face with the man-eating tigress. He slowly lifted his rifle and shot it in the head.”

I had called the teacher’s bluff. My classmates exploded in cheers and Mr. Vadakel came and gave me a friendly knock on the head.