The Yahaya Bello story first reads as a fairy tale, then as a joke. In 2016 when he was sworn in as Governor of Kogi State, he did not win the election. Abubakar Audu of the All Progressives Congress did, but passed away before he was inaugurated. Try as he might, James Faleke was not accepted as a replacement even though he ran on a joint ticket with Audu. So, in came Yahaya Bello, who came second. He was barely 40 years old and virtually unknown. It was reported then that on inauguration day, Bello wept bitterly, saying he wished his mother were alive to see what her son had become. It was the stuff of fairy tale. The moment, the sudden ascension, got the better of him.
He swept into Lugard House, nevertheless, wearing the reputation of the youngest governor like a badge of honour. There was something else he wore: white babariga, that free-flowing robe our politicians are known for. And along with it the air of an emperor who brooked no dissent from his subjects. Might is right seemed to be his motto, if not a battle cry. Everyone from his deputy to political rivals soon learned that Mr Governor must have it all or nothing.
Could it be that after a thorough self-search, Bello blended his taste for white agbada with his combative approach, and settled for the nickname: White Lion? A well-dressed lion, but a lion nonetheless who can roar and devour? It is hard to tell. What lays out like an open book before everyone, though, is a young man’s fancy for power, impunity and defiance as a lifestyle, defying anyone and anything. The seed of his current battle with the anti-graft agency, the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC), was sown when he was coronated in Lokoja eight years ago. Some reckon that Bello governed with an iron fist and seemed to care more about himself than leaving a notable legacy for his people. Once, when he travelled with the then-president Muhammadu Buhari to Poland for a United Nations climate change conference, Bello reportedly handed over the government to the House of Assembly Speaker rather than his deputy Simon Achuba. This triggered an uproar in some quarters, and in 24 hours a circular appeared granting a two-month leave to the deputy governor. Achuba complained about being frozen out of government till the end.
This cancer of impunity and defiance of the law and democratic principles is not peculiar to Kogi or Bello. It is a growing disease ravaging states across the country. But the sad joke is not on characters like Bello but on us, Nigerians, who put them in office or allowed them to be put in office.
On the eve of the 2023 general elections, the Bello administration ensured that the main roads leading to five local governments in Kogi Central senatorial district were destroyed to prevent officials of the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) from reaching the district, said to be the stronghold of Ms Natasha Uduaghan-Akpoti, a popular rival of the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP). The Bello administration admitted digging up the roads, saying it was a preventive measure to stop terrorists from reaching the zone. Pray, when did destroying roads built with taxpayers’ money become a viable means of fighting terrorism?
How did Kogi people end up with this sad joke called White Lion?
While Bello reigned, the EFCC was busy putting his record together. They suspected some financial recklessness but couldn’t bring any charge against him because he had immunity. The immunity is off and the EFCC has since charged him with N80 billion fraud. In September he and two others were slammed with looting the state government of N110 billion, totalling over N192 billion. The entire state’s budget for the year is N258 billion. Bello has been ordered to appear in court to clear his name. But the white lion will not show up, preferring to duck under his successor, Usman Ododo, in the government house. A lion on the run.
Now a word on Ododo. It has been said that Bello carefully chose not just a kinsman lackey but one to cover his tracks and protect him against any threat. Ododo has been doing precisely that as though his own life depended on it. At his inauguration in January, he told Kogi people that Bello must be obeyed even out of office. If I’m going in one direction and Bello tells you to go in the opposite direction, please follow him, Ododo told his people. I paraphrased him there.
Can servility get any worse than this? How did we get here? Permit the common phrase.
It seems Bello also primed not just his successor but the entire state machinery to protect him by fair or foul means. In April, the EFCC declared the former governor wanted after failing to appear in court. Immediately, the Kogi House of Assembly convened and told the anti-corruption agency to leave Bello alone, citing a restraining court order. This is strange and worrisome coming from a body that should be investigating a man accused of stealing their state blind.
The Bello joke is on us as a people.
Seven times has he been ordered to appear in court and seven times has he snubbed the judges. Twice have the EFCC operatives tried to arrest him in Abuja, once in his residence in April, and the second time in September at the Kogi Government’s Lodge. They failed. The first time, Ododo smuggled the wanted man away in his official car. Earlier on the day of the second attempt to apprehend Bello, Ododo, hand in hand with the white lion, strolled into the EFCC car.
In every attempt to bring Bello to justice, Ododo is at hand to thwart it. And so are the police and other security agents. How did we produce such a sad pair? What a country! What a joke!
