Death and the Governors Kinsmen

The cold-blooded murder of Nigerian citizens in Ugborodo, an Itsekiri town, last week, underlines my thesis that persecution does not respect ‘tribe’ or geography. Federal troops in the town opened fire on the citizens who marched on Chevron’s export terminal in quest of justice, not because they were Itsekiri or Ijaw or Urhobo but simply because they were courageous enough to challenge the regime of injustice President Obasanjo has been propping up in the Niger Delta since he took power in 1999.

The dead and the maimed decided to undertake the march, even when they knew that soldiers were guarding the oil firm’s premises. They had suffered a similar fate in July 2002 when, after their several entreaties to Chevron officials to give them jobs and social amenities in return for their oil were ignored, they launched a protest. An agreement, cemented in a Memorandum of Understanding, was reached between both parties. Chevron undertook to deliver a clearly specified number of jobs and amenities.

But it turned out to be an agreement honoured in the breach. It is important that the world is reminded that the decision by the citizens of Ugborodo to resume the protest was not taken lightly. The decision was underpinned by vigorous open debate. More crucially, the pressing fact of necessity, of rampaging hunger and death by disease and the depressing spectacle of educated young women and men without work, made it imperative that the ramparts of oppression be breached again. This would have been unnecessary, and the deaths avoided, had Jay Pryor, chief executive of Chevron Nigeria, done the right thing and kept his word.

I have no doubt that the Ugborodo dead, while they were alive, loved
the fact that they were Itsekiri. I have no doubt that they relished
Itsekiri food and music and dances and the unique Itsekiri outlook on
the world. When they and their fellow citizens decided to take on
Chevron again, they marched to protect these material aspects of their
culture. But they also marched for a larger cause: the cause of justice
and human dignity.

For whenever and wherever people are denied the right to represent
their own interests, to speak for themselves and decide how they should
go about ordering their social and economic affairs, injustice and
abasement are always the result. The Ugborodo dead died as Itsekiri.
But they also died as putative citizens of a country whose inhabitants
are still struggling to reclaim the right to order their affairs as
they see fit. And this, as I understand it, is the true meaning of
‘resource control.’

Thanks to the self-serving governors of the states in the delta region,
market stalls in such cities as Port Harcourt, Warri and Yenogoa are
now filled with such silly items as ‘Resource Control’ hats, gowns, and
trousers. The governors popularized the fad after rigging themselves
into power in 1999.

Faced with the legitimate demand of their citizens for jobs and social
amenities in the wake of the elections, the governors jumped on the
‘Resource Control’ wagon train. They  declared that they completely
identified with the spirit of the Ogoni  Bill of Rights and the Kaiama
Declaration that set out the political and economic demands of the
delta peoples and how they might be achieved. They claimed they had
opened discussions with Chikoko and the Ijaw Youth Council, the two
powerful political movements that had taken over where Ken Saro-Wiwa
and MOSOP left off.

The governors, like their predecessors in the delta, also invoked the
language of tribe. In the middle of the night they sought out those of
the youth leaders with whom they shared ethnic and kinship affinity,
and whispered into their ears: ‘This is a tribal struggle. It is their
tribe against our tribe, and you must come and support me so that
together we can win this battle for the benefit of our tribe.’ And
while the governors were whispering these beguiling words into the ears
of the youth leaders, they were stealing the state treasury blind,
buying palatial mansions in European and American cities, and stocking
up their private accounts in offshore banks.

Tragically, some of these youth leaders allowed themselves to be
seduced by this sweet but meaningless tribal song. The governors, now
unchallenged, gave free rein to their lust for petrodollars. They
quickly made common cause with Obasanjo whose designs on the delta
oilfields is an open secret. More soldiers poured into the delta, with
the governors providing logistic support. The delta poor were smashed
even more firmly into the ground.

That is why today the governors are dollar millionaires while their
people are still living in the abysmal conditions to which Goldie
Taubman and Frederick Lugard reduced them at the turn of the 20th
century. As the peoples of the delta prepare to participate in the
coming national dialogue, it is important that these sobering facts
inform their position. The tribal argument, backed by the governors’
stolen wealth, will seek to play a prominent role in the debate,
masquerading as ‘tribal patriotism.’ But can a poor peasant farmer
whose only son was murdered because he protested against Shell’s
despoliation of the family farm share a common patriotism with his
‘kinsman,’ the governor who aided the oil company in this brutal act?

The tribal argument, alone and of itself, will divide the peoples of
the delta at the dialogue. Each will seek advantage at the expense of
others. Oil wells will be bitterly disputed. They will come to blows
over tribal boundaries. The bitter struggle between upland and riverine
will find new life. And while they bicker, Obasanjo’s men will be
quietly relocating strategic oil-related industries to the President’s
home state. The oil companies will continue their business of milking
the oil wells dry. The ‘resource control’ governors will continue their
resourceful transformation of public wealth into private loot.

The civic-democratic argument will, on the other hand, focus national
and international attention on the continuing injustice of the Niger
delta situation. The historical facts will be aired. The peoples of the
Niger delta have been under military occupation since the second half
of the 19th century. This army of occupation, of which Obasanjo’s
soldiers are the latest incarnation, must leave so that the people can
govern themselves within a just federal Nigeria.

The 1969 petroleum decree and the Land Use Act are an occupying force’s
decrees. They too must be abrogated and the delta peoples’ rights as
landlords returned to them. Any subsequent negotiations about how much
of the oil revenue should go to other constituent parts of the
federation must proceed from this fundamental condition: It must be
between freely negotiating landlords and those that desire to partner
with them for their mutual benefit.

There are many brilliant minds in the Niger delta who have thought
deeply about these matters. But the process of choreographing them in a
tumultuous arena filled with political sharks is the business of
strategists. Oronto Douglas and Asume Osuoka are uniquely placed in
this respect. Their politics is multi-generational, pan-Niger delta,
civic as well as communal, and above all, charged with honesty and a
deep love for their oppressed people.

Justice must come to Ugborodo.

Ike Okonta