Prologue
The Quest for Equity...(1)
By Monday Philips Ekpe
There must be very few animals in the aquatic world and indeed on this planet that doubt the strength, the awesomeness and the mystique of the crocodile. Its size, ghastly candour and sheer dexterity in bringing its prey into its belly have all conspired to give it an image that cannot be ignored. The Hausa name for it is kada. And historians and etymologists have traced the origin of the name, Kaduna, to it. The same way the relationship between the crocodile and the other animals in the river cannot be said to be cordial, so also the situation that now exists between many communities within some states when it comes to the dynamics of power. The justification for the choice of the name would be an interesting topic to social and political scientists and, maybe, metaphysicists. Whether as city or state, therefore, Kaduna has taken on a status that would remain crucial for a long time to come.
The ethnic and religious crises that rock the state from time to time notwithstanding, Kaduna would remain unique. The Nzeogwu Family loved the name so much that they gave it to their son, a man whose coup action in 1966 would change the history of Nigeria forever. The late Justice Minister, Chief Bola Ige, was not only born there, he also spent a significant part of his life there. But as important as it is, first to the North and then to the nation, it is interesting to note that the city has no emir, unlike the others. No king or chief of any reasonable consequence. Some analysts have said that the situation has created some form of vacuum in the state, one that was probably being filled by the so-called Kaduna Mafia before it enlarged its frontiers to include power at the centre. That has also led to the battle for the soul of the city. Those who claim to own it do not have enough economic muscle to strengthen their grip on the city as most of the companies, shops and other industrial and commercial centres are owned by people from the southern part of the country. Majority of the Northern elite who have their roots in Kaduna, are often regarded as those who obtained the financial power they now wield via military or government jobs.
Most of the problems that have come to seize the state by the throat are products of the historical interaction of cultures and religions. The Hausas are accused by the other groups of trying to dominate them at all cost. And the Hausas, in turn, do not see reasons why they cannot be accommodated within the framework of a free Kaduna State.
But when will Kaduna be free? When will the state whose most prominent river, River Kaduna, is said to be home to a large population of crocodiles become hospitable again to the people who pour into it in search of the good life? Each time the state throws up unpalatable situations, questions and more questions are asked, with slants that are deep rooted, depending on the side of the divide the inquirer falls. In 2002, Reverend Father Matthew Hassan Kukah, in an address to the Arewa Consultative Forum asked some questions that are also put forward by many people especially from the southern part of the state: "Why is it that the state house has remained off limits to any non-Muslim since the creation of the state in 1967? Christians have governed Kano, Katsina, Bauchi or Kebbi. What is it about Kaduna State that even the most revolutionary of Nigeria's heads of state could not, in all these years overcome by appointing a non-Muslim as a governor?
"What is it about the security of Kaduna State that has made the position of the Commissioner of Police almost exclusively Muslim?
"What is it in the control of the state bureaucracy of Kaduna State that since its creation in 1967, no non-Muslim has ever headed the civil service?" And more.
For several years, the late Sardauna of Sokoto, Sir Ahmadu Bello, managed to hold the north together from Kaduna. To an appreciable extent, some unity was achieved in the region. But, today, some of the questions, agitations and problems that had been swept under the carpet are conspiring to remove Kaduna from the list of the states that symbolise peace, tolerance and respect for diversity.
The threat and fear of domination are, sadly, not restricted to the former capital of Northern Nigeria. In Imo State, the issue is neither ethnicity nor religion. It is which senatorial district among Orlu, Owerri and O kigwe should produce the next governor. The incumbent Governor, Chief Achike Udenwa, is from Orlu. And after the days of Chief Sam Mbakwe during the Second Republic, Okigwe is yet to have somebody as the state's chief executive.
Bayelsa, created by the government of General Sani Abacha in 1996, has a similar problem as the people share similar religious and ethnic affinities. The present governor, Chief Diepreye Alamieyeseigha, is from Bayelsa Central and two former governors of the old Rivers State, Alfred Diete-Spiff and Melford Okilo were from Bayelsa East. Now, the people from Bayelsa West think the clock will stop working if they do not produce the next person to occupy the Government House in Yenagoa in the next general elections.
In Akwa Ibom, the Ibibios, the largest ethnic group in the state, seem to "hold the yam and the knife." The Annangs and Orons are challenging that supremacy. They are beginning to feel that if they do not rise up now and go for their state's top job, it may be too late since more time for their rivals, the Ibibios, would mean more opportunity to confirm their (Ibibios) superiority and entrenchment.
Like Kaduna, a cocktail of ethnic nationalities populates Adamawa State. With over 25 different languages spoken by people whose suspicion of the Hausa-Fulani is mutual and total, Adamawa presents yet another case study in the settler-indigene phenomenon that has proved to be volatile in recent times. The indigenous ethnicities almost always rally round to defeat their Hausa-Fulani neighbours who were said to have entered the area via the Jihad in the early part of the 19th Century.
The tales across the country continue to sound familiar and orchestrated. The burning desire to escape obscurity and the shadows of others continues to sweep across the country. Blood, they say, is thicker than water. There is a kind of strength that goes with shared mothertongue that is difficult to explain or wish away. There is a bond that is made possible by same beliefs and modes of worship whose impact could border on the surreal. And there is a form of brotherliness, a kindred feeling that fills the minds of those who come from the same geographical area that could equal the bond of biology.
Today in Nigeria, these primordial instincts do possess the capacity for disorientation and perpetual distrust; the urge to score power rotation higher than merit and genuine democracy. And the ability to make nonsense orever a statement from the old National Anthem: "Though tribes and tongues may differ, in brotherhood we stand."
In this first part of what has become a new national question, we examine the situation in six states, namely: Kaduna, Akwa-Ibom, Bayelsa, Adamawa, Ebonyi and Imo.
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