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Obasanjo applauds Attah


Photo by Kevin M. Baerson
President Olusegun Obasanjo (left) and Governor Victor Attah enjoyed each otherís company throughout the presidentís historic three-day tour of Akwa Ibom State.

By James Overly and Kevin M. Baerson
Squeezed in the bumper-to-bumper traffic, pedestrians dodged hundreds of Akwa Ibom’s ubiquitous mopeds. In turn, the mopeds weaved in and out of a stream of official and unofficial vehicles. All honked their noisy way along the spanking new road to the dedication site.

Official passes identified some autos; others sported only hand-lettered signs taped to the inside of windshields. Some did not bother with such trivia—the expensive new sedans with darkened glass simply announced "VIP" with understated elegance.

As we passed, the clamor of thousands penetrated the closed windows, rose to a crescendo, and faded as it was displaced by the next cacophony. Ordinary citizens, conspicuous visitors from other Nigerian states, brilliantly costumed dancing ensembles, drummer bands and musical groups, massed political supporters of one candidate or another, waving school kids in their blue and white uniforms, all lined the road.

Everywhere the crowds were in motion, swaying in unison to the High Life music, singing in strong African harmony, dancing, yelling, shouting. This is Africa, and no one stands still or quiet for very long, especially at great events.

For, on this day—amid the backdrop of pulsating African rhythms and the hot kiss of the African sun—a welcome sense of triumph and vindication wafted through the air. Governor Victor Attah of Nigeria’s Akwa Ibom State was about to whisk Nigerian President Olusegun Obasanjo on a whirlwind tour to commission, or dedicate, more than 30 unlikely "superstructure" development projects throughout the state. A host of critics, who had long labeled these projects as "white elephants," or claimed the projects did not even exist in reality, were about to be undone.


Photo by James Overly

More than theater
To be sure, this was Governor Attah’s day in the sun. No one could overshadow Nigeria’s larger-than-life president, and his historic decision to spend two nights in Akwa Ibom. But for the governor, the three-day presidential visit is sure to silence—at least for a lasting political moment—the critics who would do anything to keep him from winning the Nigerian presidency. And with President Obasanjo commissioning project after project after project, any critic would now be impugning the judgment of Nigeria’s president, too.

But the day was more than just political theatrics. The president’s visit also sent a strong message to the Nigerian populace that Governor Attah’s feud with President Obasanjo – a testy row over the percentage of oil revenue the federal government would give back to Nigeria’s impoverished southern states – was history.

Moreover, President Obasanjo saw first-hand that, at least in the case of Akwa Ibom, the extra cash flowing to the South-South region was being well spent. And while the president avoided public comment about the upcoming election that would choose the next president of Nigeria, many saw an implicit message in the visit itself that President Obasanjo was warming to the notion of Governor Attah’s presidential aspirations.

Backroom politics aside, to the casual observer, no one could glean from the two men’s interaction that they were anything but old friends and tested political allies.

Behind the crowds and above the road, billboards and banners proclaimed, "Welcome Mr. President," or extolled the president’s record, or saluted the governor’s presidential ambition. This was no trumped up demonstration by coached or hand-selected participants. This was a real, spontaneous demonstration of pride in accomplishment, and genuine respect for democratically elected leaders.

As sirens announced the arriving official motorcade, protocol officials lined up the commissioners, first in one spot, and then in another, as they tried to guess where the principals’ vehicle would stop. We positioned ourselves strategically as best we could, knowing that the crowd would rush in as soon as the motorcade arrived.


Photo by Dr. Allison Anadi
A loving chaos
First to arrive were carloads of SSS men, Nigeria’s secret service. They emulated their American counterparts, dressed in Western suits, white shirts and ties, trademark plastic tubes trailing from earphones, their faces hidden by dark sunglasses. They were every bit as serious as the U.S. Secret Service, glaring at individuals as they sized up the crowd.

The SSS agents immediately tried to push people back, particularly the horde of aggressive Nigerian press, but it was like poking fingers in a wet sponge. Nevertheless, once satisfied no threat appeared imminent, the SSS allowed Governor Attah to emerge first from the official car, then the president.

Had this been the scene of arrival for an American president in an American city, the Secret Service would have aborted the appearance in a heartbeat. But Nigeria is not as rife with firearms as America—private ownership of guns is outlawed—and acts of violence by average citizens against politicians are almost unheard of here. It’s rival politicians that pose the greatest threats in public life.

"We love our president like a king," explained one local attending the festivity. "And we love our governor like a father."

Now rewarded for their patience, the crowd roared to see their president and governor at last. "Welcome, Mr. President!" screamed some. "Baba," yelled one, voicing a presidential nickname. "God bless you, Governor Attah," shouted another voice from the crowd. Always, the crowd surged in closer, making it difficult to frame a camera shot.

Handed a microphone from a portable public address system, the president greeted the crowd briefly; thanking them for coming and saying that he was looking forward to the working visit Governor Attah had promised him.

Then the two dignitaries quickly proceeded to the ribbon to pose for the cameras. Taking up the scissors from the pillow held by a pretty Nigerian girl, the president cut the ribbon, commissioning the first of a dozen or more new roads he would dedicate in the next two days.

The ribbon cut, the dignitaries proceeded along the red carpet as the press rushed to position themselves at the commemoration marker. There, the president removed the bunting, unveiling the historic marker. Again handed the microphone, he read the inscription—that he had commissioned the road on that date—aloud to the fawning crowd.

It was then quickly to the cars, and on to the groundbreaking ceremony for Akwa Ibom’s science park, the first state-owned science park in all of Africa. For all the hours of waiting and planning, the road commissioning had taken all of six or seven minutes. The scene reported here would be replicated more than 30 times during the next 48 hours, as the president witnessed the realization of Governor Victor Attah’s vision for his state.

‘Things are happening’
By the three-day visit’s end, President Obasanjo would commission or inspect progress in Nigeria’s first independent power plant, an erosion control project, an electrification project, a new general hospital, a model school, Africa’s first registered science park, a new international airport with West Africa’s first major maintenance facility, an industrial park, a new motor park and bus terminal offering traveler amenities unmatched in Nigeria, mass transit buses, and a new secretariat which will soon house for the Akwa Ibom state government staff.

The president saw first hand the complexity of projects such as the power plant and the airport. And he would have to travel all over the state to see these results, for Governor Attah insists on spreading out development projects throughout the state, not just in the capital city.

Having taken it all in, President Obasanjo could not help but declare: "Things are happening in Akwa Ibom."

Akwa Ibomites tell us that no other state in Nigeria can say that 85 percent of its rural local governing entities are electrified, or that 40 percent are now receiving potable water through a new distribution system. The people of Akwa Ibom, they say, had resumed their historical place as standard setters for Nigeria.

And for nearly 72 hours, Akwa Ibomites felt like their humble state had become the center of the universe.

 
 

Senior Writers
James Overly
Kevin lambert

 

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