They seem to have a different temperament down there in Rivers State, a difference probably unrelated to the March 18 proclamation of a state of emergency. It must be something far deeper, far bigger, and perhaps much more intense to frame in inoffensive words. Between suspended governor Siminalayi Fubara’s tactlessness and Federal Capital Territory minister’s intransigence, no one has been able to settle the question of whose deportment is worse or who is more voluble. Unfortunately, Rivers State has had the undistinguished honour of abiding both vices since Mr Fubara became governor, or, more correctly, since he was foisted on the state by the unappeasable Mr Wike who hides his fractiousness under his charisma.
These typifications are not a deliberate attempt to slander Rivers State. Having been known through decades of election cycles as probably the most remarkable churner of dizzying electoral figures, much of these statistics coming from the fishing creeks, the state is now acquiring a different label of irresoluble political conflicts confined to its leadership elite. Tonnes of essays have been written to pacify or placate the state, to make it amenable to finer discourses and get it in tune with the rest of the country, but few in that state seem to pay heed. They have raved and ranted, and insulted and cursed. And the two men at the centre of the disagreeable mood suffocating the state have ridden blissfully on the disputative waves in the state, thundering against each other, and making snide remarks about each other’s followers.
Last week, just one day apart, while posturing as earnestly questing for peace, Messrs Fubara and Wike once again lanced each other, one by the agency of a church service in honour of the late Niger Delta icon, Edwin Clark, and the other by the beaten path of a media chat. They were adamant, sarcastic and corrosive. The two had met in April in Abuja to see whether they could paper over the cracks between them. They seemed to have reached a tentative understanding which, however, quickly unravelled when their combative supporters, who have been conditioned to fight to the finish, recklessly began throwing barbs again. During last Sunday’s service of songs in Port Harcourt, Mr Fubara sounded surprisingly more conciliatory, even though he ended his remarks with a hint of sarcasm.
Hear him: “I have peace. If you have known me, you’ve been seeing me; you can see I look better now…Some of you, have you asked yourself, do you think I’m even interested in going back there? I want to ask you, don’t you see how better I look…Do you think I’m interested in it? If I have my way, I would say this is it. This is an altar of God. I don’t wish to go back there. My spirit left that place long ago…So, all these, I want everybody to focus, please. There are fights you don’t fight, there are some things you don’t do because you need to ask the person, Does he want it?…If I had my way, I wouldn’t want to return. But many people, including the late Chief Clark, have made sacrifices for me. That’s why I must stand by them.”
If Mr Wike had appreciated his predecessor’s verbal awkwardness, he would perhaps be less scathing. In the suspended governor’s quoted remarks, he inadvertently displayed two eccentricities: one, that he is often truly naïve about the import of his many weighty but sometimes circuitous remarks; and two, that he is feckless and eternally prone to wilting before the most tenuous of oppositions. Instead of appreciating the semantic limitations of Mr Fubara, and taking his generally innocent statements gamely, the primed and judgemental FCT minister took umbrage, drew his verbal sword, unfastened his scabbard and flung it away, and went for his predecessor’s jugular.
Here is how he thrust his triumphalist sword into his predecessor’s heart during the media chat: “I told him (Fubara) I don’t think you have the capacity to really make this peace. It’s not easy; if you’re making peace, your people are demonstrating every day. If you are making peace, your people are busy on television insulting people…Yes, he came with two governors and another person, but unfortunately, the two of them are APC governors. I wouldn’t pursue him. He said he wants peace, and I said I want peace too. But there are steps. You people think this is about just saying, ‘I want peace’ and then you go. What that means is that there’s an open window for you, take the necessary steps to show you want peace. Indeed, this is a self-inflicted injury. He doesn’t need it. When this crisis started, I called him. Seyi Makinde, Ortom, Ikpeazu, and Umahi were there. We sat him down and said, ‘This is not good for you. God has given it to you; don’t allow people to push you. You’re a governor, we know. Don’t forget people laboured day and night. What I have said is: don’t forget people who toiled day and night.”
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Clearly, for every inch Mr Fubara’s nursery rhyme went, Mr Wike’s tirade went a yard, for he is a far more consummate politician than his dour predecessor. Indeed, during the media chat, the FCT minister went beyond triumphalism; he also displayed a frustrating sense of entitlement and came close to playing God. He said: “I told him, ‘Go this way, and you will not have a problem’. People came and said, ‘Don’t mind him; assert yourself as governor’. Now trouble has come. They declared a state of emergency. He who wears the shoe knows where it pinches him. Who suffers? Assuming you don’t settle this problem and the state of emergency is called off, has the problem ended? I told him, ‘I don’t think you have the capacity to make peace. Your people are demonstrating every day, going on television to insult people’. Have you met the Assembly people? There are leaders you should meet. It’s not just to say, ‘I want peace.’ You must show, by conduct and action, that you want it.”
Mr Wike was angry that some people close to the governor advised him to assert himself. Given the FCT minister’s imperious remarks, not to talk of the tone of finality with which he couches his decrees, it is not hard to imagine how heavily he obtruded upon the governance of the state. On the few occasions in the past when the governor had mellowed down and sounded conciliatory, Mr Wike had remained unyielding and supercilious. Mr Fubara of course has his faults, obviously amplified by his unpolished and indecipherable approach to politics, but nothing suggests that Mr Wike has all the solutions. Until they find a common intersection in their approach to politics and governance, the disagreement between the two men will be exacerbated by their dissonant backgrounds. Hopefully, someone somewhere will arrive on the scene and help them beat their swords into ploughshares, especially as the state of emergency begins to run its course. If no meeting ground is found, it could spell disaster for the state. Mr Fubara cannot regain the six months lost to emergency; he should, therefore, find a way to be all things to all men, guileful, proactive, and witty. If nothing else, let him at least have a great one term.
