Retired General Ibrahim Badamasi Babangida’s recent book launch was nothing short of a macabre dance on Nigeria’s grave. Surrounded by his military allies, cronies, and civilian beneficiaries of his fantastically corrupt regime, the event resembled a grotesque feast—vultures raising their glasses in perverse celebration, circling the remains of a nation they once plundered.
It was a painful spectacle—one that mocked the sacrifices of Nigeria’s true heroes and heroines, those who laid down their lives for democracy, human rights, and structural reform. A brief clip of the gathering, which I stumbled upon and regrettably watched, filled me with disgust, dismay, and disbelief. The audacity of that assembly was an insult to the collective memory of those who fought for a just and democratic Nigeria.
Babangida’s autobiography amassed billions in donations—whether out of sympathy, hypocrisy, or allegiance to the very forces that benefited from his betrayal of Nigeria. Among the donors were those who facilitated or profited from the annulment of Nigeria’s freest and fairest election—June 12, 1993.
What was there to celebrate in a book that, rather than exonerate, stood as a confessional statement of national betrayal? What honor existed in glorifying a man whose rule was steeped in fear, repression, and cowardice—one who admitted that his life would have been at stake had he not annulled the people’s mandate?
Did Babangida ever reflect on the nobility of Colonel Adekunle Fajuyi, who chose death over betraying his guest, General Aguiyi Ironsi? Fajuyi, though just a colonel, stood before the barrels of his assassins’ guns and embraced honor—choosing death rather than sacrificing his guest. In stark contrast, Babangida cowered before the northern oligarchy and its southern and middle-belt collaborators, silencing logic and justice to keep Nigeria shackled to a past of oppression.
The true tragedy was not just the book launch, drenched in the sycophantic rhetoric of those who have fed fat on Nigeria’s decay. The greater tragedy was the spectacle of those who have ruled and ruined this country gathering to revel in its demise. Under Babangida’s rule, Nigeria was not just wounded—it was buried, interred by those who saw progress as a threat to their entrenched, retrogressive agenda.
And now, decades later, they shamelessly cloak their legacy of destruction in the robes of a self-congratulatory book launch. What a travesty. What a shame. On June 12, 1993, Nigeria died and was buried. Babangida’s book launch, 32 years later, was the final mockery—an epitaph inscribed on the nation’s tombstone.
By: Agba’Akin Tunji Balogun
DG, Omoluabi Coalition | Deputy National Chairman, Southwest Nigeria Youths Stakeholders Forum
