Governor Babatunde Fashola is
already 50 years old. He speaks candidly for the first time on the journey so
far and how he got to where he is today. This is a must read! Enjoy:
It's not like any of the interviews
he had granted in the past. For two hours he held a select group of editors
spellbound and reeling in laughter as he spoke about his hatred for educated,
love for soccer and the cinema until his father whipped him into line with a
threat to make him a roadside mechanic’s apprentice.
Let’s go down memory lane with Governor Babatunde Raji Fashola as he clocks 50 years.
We will start by saying congratulations” because in a number of days, you will be 50. So, what are your reflections at 50?
Let’s go down memory lane with Governor Babatunde Raji Fashola as he clocks 50 years.
We will start by saying congratulations” because in a number of days, you will be 50. So, what are your reflections at 50?
Nobody knows what day he was born;
so I am going to take the question on reflection from perhaps the time some
consciousness began to form in my mind about the future. In that sense, the
kind of country I had so much faith in really has not materialized. So, it’s an
anniversary of mixed blessings for me. If you like, it’s positive in the sense
that there is life.
Also, in many respects, some of the
things I wanted personally for myself, maybe in terms of career, have largely
materialized, although like in my profession, I still believe that there is an
unfinished business there. But, when I look back, I’ll say there were some
decisions I took as a young person, the opportunity to study abroad that I
rejected because I felt that I could never be all I could be in a land where I
was not a citizen. That was one reason.
I look at the decisions that
presented themselves when I left the university and close to half of my
colleagues that we graduated, left Nigeria out of frustration. I was one of the
few who said, “No, I think that the problems of this nation will be solved and
this is where my best opportunities lie.” In that sense again, that opportunity
has not materialized. I see so much that we can do but are still undone. So,
it’s a season of mixed blessings for me. Personally, I can’t say that is the
kind of fulfillment that I desired.
You warned everybody off a loud birthday celebration, what explains that decision?
You warned everybody off a loud birthday celebration, what explains that decision?
Well, my birthday has always been a
private thing. But in the last few months, there has been, for want of a better
expression, building excitement; people planning all sorts of things,
committees being set up and I said, “No, you don’t do this to me, not this
time.” For me, I think my best birthday was at 10. I remember it was the last
birthday that my mum organized. I celebrated every birthday, cut a cake and I
still think I can find some old pictures. I remember I wore a French suit.
From there, I think she focused more
on my younger ones because I was already in secondary school. So, the
transition was complete. No more children’s birthdays for me from then on.
So, in that sense, the next birthday
that I remember was when I was 18 and I did that myself. I saved money for
about six months and I went partying with my friends and I really enjoyed
myself. The next one I remember was 21 and I was in the university then. It was
my friends and I on campus and as difficult as it was then, because there was
no telephone, my mum made it a sense of duty to ensure that I got a birthday card.
I still keep it till today. It was a very touching birthday card and after
that, there were really no birthdays in that sense.
When I got married, on my birthdays
I get home early. If it’s a working day, we don’t cook, we order food, people
come in – my parents, siblings come – each one at his own time and really by 7
or 8 pm, I leave them in the house with my wife and I am gone; maybe to go and
play snooker or tennis at the club. So, there was no ceremony around it. I am
not a ceremony person. I don’t like those formalities and I remember that when
I was Chief of Staff, I turned 40 and my friends said, “No it’s a lie; we are
going to have a party” and I said, “No, if you do it I am going to run away.”
Someone suggested Sunny Ade because they know I like him. They said they were
going to bring him and I said, that’s the one that would make me run away; but
in the event, I remember that we actually printed an invitation card. How they
got me to do it, I can’t quite say. What I remember was that I had to wake up
very early and I said, “this shouldn’t be; this is my birthday, I should be
sleeping.”
But as early as 7am, we’d started
prayers and from there, it was breakfast though I must confess that it was a
day that I enjoyed. I had so many people around me; the governor, the Chief
Judge and the Speaker came; everybody was there. But the party went on beyond
my birthday because at 3am the following day, we were still there. So, I was
living in another person’s day and I said, “No, this is not how it is supposed
to be.” I remember that in the course of shaking everybody’s hands, you know,
going from table to table, I think somebody had conjunctivitis and I picked it.
When I woke up in the morning, I couldn’t open my eyes. But, I think the fun I
had the day before, more than compensated for the discomfort. I had to send for
my optometrist because it was very painful. This time, with all the plans going
on, I said, ‘no’, that if this is my day, then those who really love me should
allow me to do it my way. It didn’t cost me that much also to receive my
visitors. I funded my 40th birthday by myself. I am not quite sure I can’t do
the same now.
How do you mean?
As governor? No. I am not even sure
that I want to spend that kind of money on a party. If we can’t eat small rice
and chicken in the house and I don’t even know if I want to dress up in a
formal sense. I just want to feel free, see the people I want to see and if
there is something going on, on television, I want to watch, instead of, ‘Oh,
come and say hello to this person or that person.’ I am sure I am not mentally
prepared for that and I don’t want to offend people. The
idea that probably, I will have a birthday at taxpayers’ expense is something
that doesn’t sit quite well with me and it’s only for 24 hours anyway.
So, what exactly is your plan for this birthday?
So, what exactly is your plan for this birthday?
A very quiet and simple day.
It will be nice to have my friends
around and they know themselves. So, if they get here, they know how to get me
but I don’t think that I want to cling to things that are not real. I try as
much as possible to keep my feet firmly on the ground because there are two
people here – there is Tunde Fashola, and there is the Governor of Lagos State.
There are many people who want to celebrate the birthday of the Governor of Lagos,
and next year and in 2015, I will be left to carry on with my birthday. So, let
me get used to that now. That’s what I have tried to do since I took office.
The other argument may sound strange but really, we are as it were, inheritors
of the joy we did not experience and on the day a child is born, he doesn’t
know what is going on. The only people who celebrate that day are the parents.
Then, they invest in the anniversary of the day and it becomes a cross for
life.
The way you are talking, you don’t
seem to like to celebrate anything.
No, you see, the idea is, I
celebrate every day I am alive. Every morning when I wake up, I pray. I sing to
God every morning but even sometimes, people who live in the house really don’t
know that I sing. I sing inside me, in happiness. For me, every day that you
live is a celebration; so, it can’t be one day.
Let’s hear what you want to sing
Ah! (general laughter), I said that
I commune with my maker. I will tell you about that later. You want to break
into that? That’s the sanctum santorium , the inner inner.
We can’t talk about the present
without talking about the past. Let’s go down memory lane. What was childhood
like for Babatunde Fashola?
Sure, a lot of fun. I grew up in
Surulere. I lived in Surulere all my life. The first
time I am living on the island was when I moved in here [as Governor].
So, it was fun; I did everything that young people do. My grandmother used to
trade at Oyingbo market. I remember that every Tuesday was the market day; so,
I would wake up with her at 5am, help her tie the pots and pans with my tiny
hands. She used to sell Tower Aluminum pots and pans. She believed that my six
digits were signs of prosperity; so, she would tell me to put my hands on them.
At the end of the market day when she came back, I would be the one to count
her money. She was not very literate but she could count her money in pound.
When we migrated to naira, it became a problem; so I had to do the
multiplication of the number of pounds to get the naira for her, but I always
got a reward. I got bags of chocolate and Nicco biscuits. Of course, it meant
that on Wednesday morning, I would be a hero in class, sharing my biscuits.
Those were great memories. We flew
kites; on Sundays, we went to church, St Jude’s Church in Ebutte-Metta, and
after church, we looked forward to Uncle Ben’s rice and chicken. Of course,
those of you who lived in that era will remember the perpetual fight over
Fanta; who was going to get the bottle. We had to share a bottle; maybe, two or
three of you and there was a feeling that the person who had the bottle had
more content. So, that was it – I did all the regular things, played street
soccer.
I played truant in school a lot and
I didn’t like school because there were too many interesting things to do –play
football and go to the cinema. My mum used to take us to cinema; that was when
cinema was popular. The one at Onipanu, on Ikorodu Road, Metro Cinema was where
I first saw James Bond’s Gold Finger. She took us to the cinema on the last
Sunday of every month. That was the kind of childhood I had and we lived in
regular middle class home. My mum is a nurse and my dad a journalist. I also
remember that my affinity for Juju music came from my grand-parents because my
grandfather used to buy Sunny Ade’s records. We had a Grundig player and that
was where I learnt all Sunny Ade’s music. It was always blaring and I learnt
how to change the records. I still draw a lot of inspiration from the deep
philosophy in those songs. There is a lot of rich philosophy if you bother to
listen to the lyrics rather than the music. You will see their stories of
tribulations and success and if you look at them now and listen to their songs,
you will see that every success story is founded on adversity. They faced their
own adversities. Obey was once accused of carrying drugs. They had their bitter
rivalries. He was accused of supporting criminals when he sang for a notorious
armed robber and he quickly had to do ‘E maf’oju buruku wo onileesi….’ and all
of those things. Of course, there were supposed feuds, that helped to bring
more converts and those were the building blocks of my childhood.
I didn’t see the civil war in but my
memories of the war have summed up in a word, ‘Moto gagara.’ I will tell you
the story of Moto gagara. I must have been around four years old when the war
broke out and our brothers from the east were moving back home and in big
trucks. For a four-year-old, the sound of those trucks was frightening. So, any
time I saw them, I always wanted to go out and play and my grandmother would
say, “Stay indoors.” So, the only thing that kept me in was the sound of those
trucks; I would rush back into the house. So, any time I wanted to go out, she
would say, ‘don’t go out, Moto gagara …,’ and I would scamper. Post war was the
reconstruction of Lagos and many parts of Nigeria; so riding through the
streets of Surulere, seeing the stadium being built, National Theatre – the
sand filling that took place from Iponri; we rode bicycles through all those
places; through Badagry Expressway.
I remember Yinka Folawiyo was the
main supplier of cement to the site then and all of these, l did riding
bicycle. I remember going with my grandmother to her house in Oshodi to collect
her rent. She had a lawyer who managed her property in Oshodi and I recall that
after every visit, she always complained that the lawyer had cheated her and
the final word always was my promise to her that I would be a lawyer so that I
would manage the property for her for free. And unfortunately, that happened
only after she died. Of course, I took over the property; then my younger
brother who is also a lawyer took it over from me and we still manage it. We
are trying to renovate it now but that gave me a very strong knowledge of
Oshodi because we used to walk through all those places and I knew how it was
as a child then. It gave me a good knowledge. My aunt lived in Bariga, so I
would take a bus from Oshodi to Bariga and then from Bariga to Akoka.
Your mother was a nurse, your dad a
journalist, how did you end being a lawyer, instead of in the sciences or in
journalism?
Well, I think that our parents are
the mirror through which we see life. So, maybe somewhere down the line, my
grandmother’s exhortation struck a chord but more importantly was the fact that
I was very horrible with mathematics. Or perhaps not horrible; let me explain
it. The primary school I went to used to do arithmetic; then in 1972 or 1973,
Nigeria turned decimal. So, some schools started doing mathematics. We remained
with arithmetic because we were then getting ready for common entrance and I
think the school thought that it would be difficult to change us.
So, I think they got the National
Common Entrance body then to set two sets of questions. In the front was
mathematics and then there was a footnote that if you did arithmetic in school,
turn to the next page. But even at that, I just managed to score about 50 or 60
to pass arithmetic. So, by the time I got to form one, it was straight
mathematics. I remember it was an American who taught us mathematics and I just
couldn’t hear what he said in class. First, because of the accent, secondly all
the signs on the board were new. So, I just stopped going to mathematics class.
I didn’t stop initially, I just sat down there; I just found something else to
distract myself until he left the class. But my Physics, Biology and Chemistry
were quite good. I was taught by two Indians, Mr & Mrs Matthews. Mr
Matthews taught Physics and Chemistry; Mrs Matthews taught us Biology and I desired
at that time to be a doctor.
I wanted to be a surgeon and I was
very good in Biology. I am still conversant with it. I am just enamoured by
nature but in form three, going into form four, we were going to choose
subjects and they called my parents and said, look, this man’s Biology is good,
in chemistry, he doesn’t solve any equation, he just answers the theory
questions and leaves the rest blank and that he has to withdraw from the
science class and move to the arts class. I said well, I was ready to do that;
there was no point arguing but that they would allow me to keep my Biology and
they agreed. Then, I focused more on history, bible knowledge, literature,
geography and by the time, it was all done, the only professional course I
could do without mathematics was law. So, that’s it but it’s not something I
didn’t want to do.
In a sense, there was a little bit
of a mix. I enjoyed every day I spent in the law class. And I think that I am
better for it because in the course of my practice, it has enabled me to know a
lot more about other disciplines because you are a client to doctors, to
patients who sue doctors, to engineers and to people claiming compensation for
building damage. So, you have to know quantity survey, engineering. There are
areas of life that you never read about but you have to learn by force once a
client comes in, otherwise, you give up the brief and the money.
Tell us again the story of how you
missed travelling abroad with your siblings because your school grades didn’t
meet your father’s expectation.
At that time, around 1976/77, my
father decided apparently that part of the education of his children was to
travel abroad. For us, it was fun; for him, it was education. We didn’t know
that and we used to think he was a rich man. It was much later that we realised
that he borrowed money to send us on those trips but the qualification always
was that you must be in the top five in your class. I was always the one who
didn’t make it. So, they dropped me twice. For me, school was too much of a
problem. There was football to be played and I didn’t learn how to study until
I was in A’ Levels class. Sometimes, I didn’t go to class and just two days
before exams, I would come in and ask; what did you people do? And I would look
at somebody’s note and read to just get the minimum pass.
At what point did you change this
attitude of hating school?
When I failed School Certificate
(general laughter). I wrote school certificate when I was 14 and half. So, I
just didn’t understand what the big deal about this WAEC exam was. Why is
everybody reading when we should be playing? I found out that all my playmates
had left me behind and I didn’t even know what to read. So, I just went into the exams, wrote what I knew, passed biology and
the rest were P7, P8 and of course mathematics stood out, F9. When the result
came; my dad and I went to the school and the teachers were congratulating my
dad. They said, this boy didn’t come to school. My dad said he was no longer
paying for exams again. He told me that he had booked an apprenticeship for me
with his mechanic, so I broke down in tears. He said I should go and
think about it, discuss with my mum and come back to him to decide what I was
going to do. One week after, I went to see him and said well, I still want to
go to school. And he said the mechanic was waiting. I think it was that shock
treatment that changed my attitude. I went on to write the exam again and I
passed. Then, I got into A’ Levels class and it was very good in the first year
and everybody. My dad said that it must have been because I hadn’t discovered
the football field there. In a sense, it was true; by the end of first year, I
got into the football team in Igbobi College and the grades just started
dropping.
I tell everybody who cares to listen;
I am a product of many chances and that’s why I give a second, third and fourth
chances to everybody who is serious; those are the messages for me. I also
acknowledge observably that my parents own the credit for what I have become;
they just didn’t give up. I don’t think that any parent should give up on any
child. By the time I entered the university, all of the freedom I wanted was an
anticlimax. There was nobody to tell me to go and study. By the first week in
the university, I was the one waking others up to go and study. I don’t know
how that consolation came and I was able, through the university, to still
combine football and tennis with my academic work.
What I simply did was that by 6am, I was up to do my exercise. I used to jog in the morning. By 8am, I would be in class till 4pm and by 4pm, I was in the sports complex till 7pm. By 7pm, I was cleaning up; 8pm, I ate dinner and between 8pm and 9pm, I studied. I studied one hour every day till I left the university and it worked. So, I was always ready for exams long before it came. It was the same thing I did in the law school. I played tennis throughout law school exams everyday and it didn’t affect my grade. Well, maybe it could have been better but I left the school with a 2:2 and I left the law school with a 2.2. I think that is enough effort really. My dad wanted me to do masters but those were his plans. My own plans had become different and I was not going to argue with him. He collected the form, I filled it and I submitted it late.
What I simply did was that by 6am, I was up to do my exercise. I used to jog in the morning. By 8am, I would be in class till 4pm and by 4pm, I was in the sports complex till 7pm. By 7pm, I was cleaning up; 8pm, I ate dinner and between 8pm and 9pm, I studied. I studied one hour every day till I left the university and it worked. So, I was always ready for exams long before it came. It was the same thing I did in the law school. I played tennis throughout law school exams everyday and it didn’t affect my grade. Well, maybe it could have been better but I left the school with a 2:2 and I left the law school with a 2.2. I think that is enough effort really. My dad wanted me to do masters but those were his plans. My own plans had become different and I was not going to argue with him. He collected the form, I filled it and I submitted it late.
Yes, I was tired of school; I had
become a lawyer. I didn’t need masters; I wanted to practice. I didn’t want to
be a company secretary where I would need a higher degree to get promotion. I
knew what kind of law I wanted, to be in the courtroom. I didn’t need a masters
degree to do that.
At what point did you really develop
interest in public service?
Public service is just perhaps
another stepping stone in my life’s journey. There was no desire for that. I
didn’t like public service, make no mistake about it. I was posted to the
Ministry of Justice in the University of Benin as a corps member. I was posted
to the Office of the Solicitor-General. She was away appearing in some other
sittings outside Benin and for three days, nobody could attend to me and I told
myself, this is not the place you want to work.
By the time the Solicitor-General
came on the third day, I just went to her and said: Ma, I have been waiting for
you, I don’t want to work here. Please just transfer me. And she said: How can
I transfer you without even trying you? And I told her that I would not work
there. She was a very nice woman, Mrs Omorude. She later became a judge of the
High Court in Edo State. She asked me if I didn’t have a wig and gown and I
did. Yes, She asked: Why don’t you want to work here? I said: Well, I was here
for three days; you were not around and nobody seemed willing to take
responsibilities. The impression I get is that I wouldn’t do anything unless
you approve of it. So, if you are not around, we won’t work and I don’t want to
be in an environment where I can’t think on my own and take decisions. She
said: No, it’s not like that. I said: Well the evidence I have is like that.
And I remember her words; she said: Young man, your mind seems to be made up
and I’m not going to stand in your way. Where do you want to go to? Do you have
another place? I told her yes but I didn’t. I just wanted to get out of the
place, so she let me go and I started pounding the streets of Benin, looking
for my seniors in the university who were already lawyers and looking for a
place where somebody could accommodate me. By night fall, I had gotten a place
and that was where I did my youth service. That was my impression of
government.
Coming back home, I saw that if you
wanted to get anything done in any department of government, it could go on for
weeks and weeks and I said no, this is not for me. I used to be very critical
of government in my own small corner. But one day, Governor Tinubu sent for me
and said: Tunde, Lai is going to Ilorin; he wants to be governor, I need help.
You were part of the people who supported my campaign, you can’t leave me to do
the work alone; so come and join me. That was on a Wednesday. Well, he
scheduled the meeting for 4pm on Wednesday but I didn’t get to see him until
1:00am on Thursday morning. We were all there in his office. I got home around
2am or so and went to my office in Igbosere. Later in the day, I think the GSM
had come then, I got a call from the Head of Service asking for my address and
before the end of the day, I got a letter asking me to resume in Alausa the
following day, which was Friday August 16, 2002. I called my partner and said:
I won’t see you tomorrow; I am gone. That’s all because the way we ran the
chambers, everybody knew what the other person was doing. I was head of the
chambers, I was managing it. All the cases we tried, we prepared them in a
conference type environment. So, it was easy for them. I told them I would be
one phone call away if they needed any help. After that, they found their feet.
So, I didn’t plan to be in government.
I went into government also with
some air of arrogance which was quickly deflated. I must say this; I thought
that those of us outside knew more than those inside and I was proved wrong.
There are a lot of talents in government; not just in Lagos State and the power
of government is so awesome that we do ourselves a great disservice. I joined
at 39 and I thought it was too late and we must encourage many more people to
join very early. And there is no use for us to just continuously criticize the
government; that’s the easiest thing to do. But getting things done; getting
people to agree, it’s like having a party for 10 people. It is easy to serve
them but when the party becomes a thousand people, some people will come and
not eat. For some people, the food would have become cold. So, when the people
you now have to serve multiply to 21 million people, you see how difficult it
is to please everybody.
What would you say prepared you for
public office as governor of Lagos state?
Well, my knowledge of Lagos and
things that I picked up from my childhood days. I played football across
virtually the whole state. Where I didn’t play football, I went to swim and I
lived in many parts of Surulere.
I lived at Sam Shonibare, Aina Street off Lawanson, behind Idi-Araba and I lived at Ijeshatedo. I also lived at Aguda as a bachelor. But as a child, I remember we used to go from Aina Street through the canal to go and cut bamboo to make cages to trap birds. So, I knew the flood, the canal in Idi-Araba. It helped me ultimately to address the flooding problem that solved the River LUTH. And I knew Oshodi as I told you, apart from going with my grandmother. When we started living in Ijesha, I used to take a bus to Oshodi bus-stop and from Oshodi, we would trek to Airport Hotel because we were going to swim. And we would save the money for transportation on our way back because we would be hungry after swimming. I used to go and rent bicycle at Bank Olemoh.
I lived at Sam Shonibare, Aina Street off Lawanson, behind Idi-Araba and I lived at Ijeshatedo. I also lived at Aguda as a bachelor. But as a child, I remember we used to go from Aina Street through the canal to go and cut bamboo to make cages to trap birds. So, I knew the flood, the canal in Idi-Araba. It helped me ultimately to address the flooding problem that solved the River LUTH. And I knew Oshodi as I told you, apart from going with my grandmother. When we started living in Ijesha, I used to take a bus to Oshodi bus-stop and from Oshodi, we would trek to Airport Hotel because we were going to swim. And we would save the money for transportation on our way back because we would be hungry after swimming. I used to go and rent bicycle at Bank Olemoh.
We used to go and play soccer at SOS
children’s village in Isolo, play soccer at Akerele junction at Alhaji Masha
because it used to be a big open field. We played table tennis at Sholeye
Crescent, Rowe Park and the only place you could get good bats was in a store (I
have forgotten its name) in Apapa. We would come to Marina, take the ferry or a
canoe across to go and work behind flour mill to be able to get the bat. Then
in my home, there was freedom, love and fear of God. Stealing was
unforgiveable; you couldn’t forget your classmate’s biro in your bag because
you would receive the anger of my parents. And you will never forget it. We
couldn’t go to a neighbour’s house to eat even if were hungry; my mother would
be staring at you. She would ask: are you hungry? And you would quickly say no.
You may say that they were very strict but many of my generation went through
it. It curtailed greed, built discipline and it reinforced self- denial. So, no
matter how sweet that food was and you remember the one at home, if they ask
you outside whether you were hungry, you would say, no, I have eaten.
I remember once my younger brother
and I were walking through a footpath and we found an old three pence in the
sand and we cleaned it up. Of course, we couldn’t take it home. We saw these
Nupe/Kanuri women selling roasted peanuts. We just gave her the three pence to
give us peanuts and it literally bought everything she was carrying. We sat
down on the corner of the bush and ate as much as we could, knowing that we
couldn’t take it home. But as stupid as we were, we wanted to keep what was
left. We dug the sand and buried it there so that we would go back for it
later. Of course, when we went back, we could not find it but it was better to
lose the peanuts than for my mother to find it with us. Then, the value of
human lives; we didn’t see dead bodies on the street; there wasn’t that much
violence; there was respect for the dead; there was a sense of sobriety, we
were not this loud. And I think that is the critical missing chord.
When we talk about students not
passing WAEC, they didn’t pass in my time too. If all the students were passing
at that time, why did we have FSS because there were remedial colleges? All the
students in the UK too don’t pass but constantly, something was being done
about it and new opportunities were being created. So, those were the things
that still help me in decision making. There were extra classes and that’s why
we decided, let’s do Saturday classes in our public schools. And we are seeing
the results gradually but it is not enough to continue with the headline, ‘80
percent failed’.
Would you say that you are an
accidental governor?
I don’t think that I am quite
accidental. An accident is something that you don’t have any control of in its
entirety and that’s not quite my case. I didn’t plan to run for office but I
still had a choice to say yes or to run away and from the day I made a decision
to accept the offer. I knew that it came with consequences and the first thing
was to begin to prepare myself to deal with those consequences as best as
possible. So, in that sense, yes. I think there is nothing esoteric about
government. I think if you find the right people, the right attitude, a clear
understanding of why you are there, you can make it work. I don’t by that
suggest that there is any expertise here but we have tried to do very simple
things. We have tried to involve people.
Let’s take something as simple as
maintaining roads; I want to discuss government not in terms of only the people
in public service. No they are a very small part of the population. I want us
to discuss government especially in a democracy as something that all of us own
and how much ownership we have shown. I didn’t understand. I don’t know then as
much as I know now. There are barometers, at least, in this part, for measuring
how well a government is doing. For me, in the very beginning, the idea that a
governor must visit a road before it is fixed was extremely outlandish. How
many roads could I possibly visit? So, the way forward was, let us get a data
of the roads, which we now have. We know all our roads now but we can’t visit
all the roads – over 10,000 roads.
So, we set up a public works
organisation that is increasingly better equipped to deal with those problems.
It has a help line that we have made public but are people using it? That’s not
even to say that if you call today, they will come this night but they will
have a log of the bad roads. When they are making their plan in a budget, then
they can fix it in. Recently, I drove through Malu road, going to the Kirikiri
Fire Service and I noticed that at the railway junction, we had to slow down
significantly because the road had failed at the edge of the tracks and the
first thing that came to my mind was, if at the off-peak period, we had to slow
down this much, what will happen at rush hour? How much pains will our people
go through? And the next thing I did was to call the public works and say,
‘this road must be fixed before this week is over. Give me a report that you
have done it and I am going to check. How many of such roads can I visit? But
luckily, by the time I was coming from the June 12 meeting, I saw a text on my
phone that the road had been repaired. It gives me a very good feeling that at
least the discomfort of citizens in that area has been attended to but will
there be a life without problems? No.
There are so many other things I
didn’t see yesterday. But, even if we now have solutions to all the problems,
we don’t also have all the resources to fix them but I think that in the sense
that people feel that if they ask, government will respond, then we are on the
way. The most prosperous nations still have disgruntled and un-served citizens
and that’s why I feel more comfortable with the concept of an action government
than an action governor because government is institutional. You don’t need to
know me, you don’t need to see me. Even if we can’t serve you, somebody can say
to you, ‘we have received your complaints, we will come to it.’ And there is a
feel-good factor there that somebody has spoken to me very politely and those
are the things we try to continuously promote. But again, on our help lines,
what do we get? Sometimes, they are used for purposes for which they are not
designed. So, again there is need for all of us to restrain ourselves; to
moderate our expectations .
When Asiwaju Bola Ahmed Tinubu
invited you into his administration, did it ever occur to you that you will
stay this long in government and public service?
No. In fact, I remember as I joined
in 2002, the campaigns for the re-election were rife and after re-election, he
was reconstituting his cabinet. Myself as Chief of Staff, the SSG and Head of
Service were the only few people that remained after the end of the first term
and there was a lot of horse trading about who and who was going to be in the
new cabinet.
I recall one night I was at the club
and one of my friends just rushed in and said “You are just sitting down here;
they are already constituting the new cabinet and your name is not on it.” And
I said “So, what’s your problem?” He said “but you just spent nine months.” I said that was a momentous privilege and that if the
governor felt that he wanted to change his chief of staff, I would go and thank
him for giving me the opportunity to serve for a few months and get on with my
life. So, that was my attitude because being his chief of staff wasn’t
fun. Before I was chief of staff, if it rained, I slept more but once I got
into government, the rain meant a different thing to me.
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