By Salihu Garba-Mama
One of the most insidious dangers to any society is the normalisation of injustice—turning historical crimes into mere footnotes while celebrating their perpetrators. Here we are, applauding the book launch of a man who masterminded the overthrow of one of Africa’s most credible democratic regimes—the Shagari administration. Ibrahim Badamasi Babangida (IBB) and Muhammadu Buhari not only toppled Shagari but also unjustly incarcerated him and other political officeholders of that era. Despite exhaustive investigations, they found no evidence of corruption against them, yet they continued to harass and humiliate these statesmen to instill fear and force public acceptance of their military dictatorship. Decades later, we conveniently forget these atrocities and instead gather to honor a self-glorifying memoir of a military ruler who derailed Nigeria’s democratic progress.
Autobiographies of political figures often serve as instruments of self-justification rather than objective historical accounts. This is especially true for military rulers who, having shaped a nation’s destiny through force, later attempt to rewrite history in their favor. Babangida, infamously known as the Evil Genius or Maradona, recently transformed Minna into a political pilgrimage site for Nigeria’s past and present leaders (with President Buhari’s conspicuous absence) to celebrate the launch of A Journey in Service on February 20, 2025. The book, ostensibly a fundraiser for the IBB Presidential Library project, chronicles his regime from August 27, 1985, to August 26, 1993—an era marked by deception, economic decline, and the erosion of democratic institutions.
As someone who witnessed many of these events firsthand, my father Alhaji Garba-mama Aliyu and prominent scholars, the likes of Sheikh Abubakar Gumi (may Allah have mercy upon their souls) falling victims, I find it imperative to challenge this revisionist history and present a more truthful account.
The Missing Voices
Babangida has conveniently outlived many of the key figures who could challenge his account of military dictatorship. General Sani Abacha, President Shehu Shagari, Mamman Vatsa, and MKO Abiola—all significant players in Nigeria’s political history—are no longer alive. Even President Muhammadu Buhari, once hyped as Mai Gaskiya (trustworthy) and one of Babangida’s strongest political adversaries, has become politically irrelevant, having squandered his reputation with an eight-year rule that proved disastrous. With Buhari’s credibility in ruins and his successor offering no meaningful resistance to corruption, Babangida’s book arrives at a time when few voices remain to counter his version of events. But thank God that facts are stubbornly unburied.
Selective Memory and Historical Distortions
IBB’s book glosses over or manipulates critical events that defined his tenure. The annulment of the June 12, 1993, presidential election—one of Nigeria’s greatest democratic betrayals—is downplayed. Instead, the bulk of the blame for the annulment is passed onto the deceased Sani Abacha. But we all know that dead men don’t speak. The victims of torture, assassinations, and human rights abuses under IBB’s regime are conveniently omitted from this whitewashed memoir. The assassination of journalist Dele Giwa, a crime many link to Babangida’s government, is framed in vague terms—another glaring gimmick in a calculated act of self-absolution. The Structural Adjustment Program (SAP), which devastated Nigeria’s economy, is presented as an economic necessity rather than the disastrous policy that deepened poverty and widened inequality.
IBB’s major living benefactors were invited to eulogize his private-sector-driven policies and to donate billions of naira towards the IBB Presidential Library project. This raises a pertinent question: Why has the Abuja National Library, which began under IBB’s regime alongside the National Worship Centers, remained incomplete to this day? Could this be another testament to how our ruling elites deliberately choose to keep citizens uneducated while ensuring that they remain passive followers of religious institutions?
Furthermore, Babangida’s claim of being a nationalist dedicated to Nigeria’s unity rings hollow when one considers his role in institutionalizing corruption, political deception, and military entrenchment in governance. His book offers little reflection on how his policies fueled the instability, corruption, and mediocrity that persist in Nigeria today.
A Comparative Look: IBB and Other African Military Rulers
In every man or situation, there is something good. While Babangida’s rule is criticized for fostering corruption and economic hardship, he also implemented some policies that shaped Nigeria’s modern political and economic landscape. His government continued the federal character policy, ensuring employment opportunities for qualified youth from underrepresented regions in federal MDAs. The 1991 NNPC recruitment, which saw this author (Salihu Garba) and many of his contemporaries join the petroleum sector, is a testament to this.
Additionally, Babangida created new states (e.g., Adamawa and Taraba from Gongola, Katsina from Kaduna, Yobe from Borno), invested in infrastructure (e.g., the Lagos Mainland Bridge, relocation of the capital from Lagos to Abuja), and implemented economic liberalization policies that favored private enterprises, though controversially benefiting select individuals like Aliko Dangote and TY Danjuma. Compared to his African military counterparts, such as Jerry Rawlings of Ghana or Paul Biya of Cameroon, IBB’s legacy remains a mixed bag of economic reforms and political instability.
In contrast, today’s African military leaders, such as Ibrahim Traoré of Burkina Faso, are taking a different approach—boldly dismantling neocolonial structures and resisting foreign control. However, IBB’s implementation of SAP raises the question: Was he merely executing the dictates of Western neocolonialists under the guise of economic restructuring? In evaluating his rule, one must consider whether his actions were genuine attempts at reform or merely a continuation of the military’s historical entanglement with foreign economic interests.
The Institutionalization of Favoritism and Mediocrity
A government should ensure equal opportunities for all citizens based on merit and fairness. However, one of Babangida’s most damaging legacies is the institutionalisation of alfarma—a Hausa term that originally signified divine mercy, grace and or favor but has been distorted into a system of undue privilege and patronage. In its true Islamic sense, rahama (mercy) and blessings are bestowed upon deserving individuals based on merit and righteousness. But under Babangida, alfarma became a tool for political and economic favoritism, often bypassing due process. While his administration upheld federal character policies on the surface, its selective application revealed a deeper problem. Aliko Dangote himself admitted that Babangida personally granted him an exclusive import license in a private setting—an act that exemplifies how his regime entrenched economic favoritism. This culture extended to the allocation of oil blocks and lucrative government contracts, handed out to military allies and associates such as Maideribe and TY Danjuma, reinforcing a system where connections mattered more than competence.
This perversion of alfarma created a society where mediocrity thrived while meritocracy was systematically suppressed. Today, we see the consequences of such undue favoritism. TY Danjuma, who amassed vast oil wealth through state-backed patronage, has been accused of using his fortune to fuel ethnic conflicts in Taraba and Benue States. His oil blending plant near KRPC collapsed, not due to market forces but because of a nepotistic hiring policy that prioritized religious and ethnic affiliation over technical competence. This is the tragic outcome of a system where power and privilege override ability and innovation—an enduring legacy of Babangida’s governance that continues to haunt Nigeria’s development.
Despite having some of the best-trained engineers at NNPC, Nigeria remains unable to design or manufacture oil refining machinery to replace the obsolete equipment installed decades ago by Chiyoda of Japan. Rather than fostering innovation, IBB’s administration—and those that followed—stifled the ambitions of talented youths, prioritizing patronage via abused system of alfarma, over merit-driven-progress. Initiatives such as this author’s (Salihu Garba’s) automation projects at NNPC (ePay Center, eBudget, AI-driven DSDP ePro, SEEP, etc.)—cutting-edge, AI-driven, cloud-based systems designed to enhance efficiency and transparency—hold the potential to generate over $1 billion annually through cost savings and streamlined operations. These initiatives align with the vision of transforming NNPC into a world-class institution built on integrity, transparency, and accountability—far removed from the status quo of discretionary decision-making, which has fueled misguided policies such as the haphazard removal of fuel subsidies and the skewed selection of partnership contracts. Similarly, groundbreaking innovations like Mustapha Gajibo’s electric vehicle technology, along with numerous other visionary projects, have faced systemic obstacles, illustrating how a culture of neglect and vested interests continues to undermine Nigeria’s technological advancement.
Yet hope is not lost. Youth-driven initiatives such as “Everyone a Changemaker” and the SAGMA MERN software training platforms initiated in Adamawa, are gradually shifting the tides from mediocrity to a society driven by knowledge, skill, character, and patriotism.
The Myth of Image Laundering
Many pundits are asking: Why has IBB chosen to publish his memoir now? The timing suggests an attempt at historical revisionism—a final effort to control the narrative before history judges him rightfully. Many corrupt leaders seek to cleanse their legacies through selective storytelling, hoping that a well-written book will shape public memory for generations. We saw this with Obasanjo’s memoir, which glorified himself while indicting others. But in today’s AI-driven world, facts remain stubborn, and no amount of literary whitewashing can erase Babangida’s impact.
Conclusion: Who Will Challenge the Narrative?
IBB’s Heroic Biafra War Injury: A Recurring Tragedy for Today’s Insecurity Victims
Yes IBB is only human. And we can’t help but admire his intelligence and charisma. Surely he played his role in shaping Nigeria’s history and made his sacrifices within the prevailing realities of military dictatorship. However, an egalitarian civilized society that we aspire to be, must not allow propaganda to distort historical facts or glorify those who seized power by the gun as role models for our youth to emulate.
It is interesting how he frames his sacrifices during the Biafra war as a defining mark of heroism. Powerful story telling lines, if you asked me. But what real value does that add to today’s Nigeria, where the same agitations persist and their tragic consequences continue to unfold? He speaks of the chest injury he sustained in battle as a badge of honor. And indeed, it was.
Yet, what IBB and his diehard admirers fail to acknowledge is that today, countless Northeners are sustaining even graver injuries, and so many are losing their lives — not on a battlefield against an external enemy, but in their homes, on their farms, and along the highways at the hands of the same Biafran agitators, Bandits, Boko Haram and “kimmashin” Kidnappers.
Every day, unarmed citizens (women, children, and members of the civilian JTF) suffer the same or worse wounds, not as soldiers in combat but as victims of a security crisis fueled by corruption and the complicity of a compromised military leadership. The insecurity plaguing northern Nigeria today is a modern version of the infamous British-India Cobra deals—where those meant to protect the people profit from their suffering.
IBB’s war wounds were treated in a Lagos hospital, backed by the state’s resources and a well-equipped military. But what about today’s young men, who are forced to defend their communities against bandits and kidnappers with nothing but sheer will? They have no security votes, no evacuation helicopters, no military hospitals but only the painful reality of abandonment by a state that was supposed to protect them.
Trust (whether in knowledge, wealth, or leadership) is an Amana. And upholding it, even at personal discomfort, is a duty we must never abandoni
With Dan Buzu or Mai Gaskiya—Buhari—politically disgraced, and other key historical actors deceased, who will challenge Babangida’s version of history? The responsibility falls on uncorruptible historians, scholars, and conscious citizens to dissect his claims, compare them with documented evidence, and prevent Nigeria’s past from being rewritten to serve one man’s ego. We have just witnessed another attempt at rewriting history in Adamawa, where the centuries-old Fombina Kingdom was targeted for erasure. A Journey in Service may be Babangida’s final attempt at self-justification, but history will ultimately tell the truth.
writes Salihu Garba-mama Aliyu (SAGMA)
