Alhaji Ahmadu Abubakar, who was born into the family of a learned Islamic scholar in the riverine settlement of Muye in Niger State, wanted to become a military officer by attempting on separate occasions to join the army and the navy. After his secondary education, the brilliant young Ahmadu aspired to read engineering but destiny altered his ambitions.
Beginning as a teacher, his civil service career, which traversed different specialties took him through the ranks to become a director in the federal civil service, then a permanent secretary in the Federal Ministry of Finance, and thereafter Minister of Finance of the Federal Republic of Nigeria. In this interview, the Walin Muye and Makaman Lapai recalls how he finally ended up as a seasoned administrator.
What was growing up like at Muye in the 1940s when you were born?
In those days, there was respect for the family, elders and the society. Children would grow up in an area with others from different families. They knew one another and played together.
Secondly, our parents believed there was the need to have children who would help in the farm. By coincidence, we came from the riverine area, so we engaged in fishing and other forms of farming, as well as Islamic education, which was very much emphasized when we were growing up.
At the age of three or four, my father sent me to another Malam. My father was a Malam too but not teaching. From there, I started learning the Arabic language. Unfortunately, the Malam died and I came back to my father and continued with my Qur’anic education. After lessons, we would go to the farm to work, once or twice a week.
At night we would go to the beach to play with the sand. Life was very nice in the village. We continued like that till we started western education.
How would you describe your father?
My father was a disciplinarian who believed in the strict training the children. He was very religious and well respected in the village. Every week, on Thursday or Friday particularly, he used to send me out to greet other people – village heads, Malams and others – because he could not move around again due to old age. We were eight from the same parents and I was the last child.
What are the fond memories of your early days?
Apart from what I mentioned, there was nothing very peculiar until I got to school. However, every day, in the morning we would go to River Niger and bathe. As children we would jump into the riverside and play to enjoy ourselves, especially when the weather was hot after we returned from the farm. We were very neat people. The tribe I come from, Kakanda, don’t joke with cleanliness.
Is it still like that in today’s Kankanda?
If you restrict it to Kandanda it is a different thing because a lot of things have changed in the world, particularly Nigeria. In those days, security was very effective. So as children, we went out to play in the moonlight. In the village, if a visitor arrived, whosoever he was staying with would report to the village head. The only difference is that our population was still very small, probably up to 200 in a village. Also, during the rainy season we had flooding and some people were affected.
What is the difference between ancient Muye and what you have today?
The traditional Kakanda people were warriors. Because of flooding, they were moved twice. I told you that we lived near a river. We were there in the 1940s before we were compelled to move to another location around the same river bed. But that place too became over-flooded and the village moved to its present location.
You attended the Abuja Middle School; how would you describe Abuja at that time?
I was in primary school in Abuja in 1953. It was just a small town but interesting. The only remarkable thing in Abuja (now Suleja) was that during the weekends, when we went to wash our cloths in the river, we would go to Suleja. We also did some gardening, which was compulsory for us. But Suleja was peaceful.
Where was the elementary school you attended?
It was in Muye. It was established in December 1945.
How did you travel from Muye to Abuja?
Actually, transportation system at that time was poor. However, the roads were graded and there was safety. We would come through the river from Muye and take a canoe to Baro. From there, we would take a train to Minna. From Minna, we would go to Abuja by lorry. Funny enough, from Minna to Suleja (then Abuja), you had only two trips in a week – Wednesdays and Sundays. If you missed one, you would stay behind to wait for the second trip. There was no other means of transportation. The roads from Suleja to Minna were not tarred at all. If you knew the way very well, you would come through Lambata. It took several days to travel, two or three days. When going back, we would leave here (Abuja) to spend the night in Minna.
The school authorities were always after the welfare of students, so they made sure we got the train to Baro. The teacher would follow us until we got there (Baro) where those going up North and others going down South would board the train. Those going to Bida went by road or other means.
The third issue was communication. They took mails around.
Can you remember some of your mates in Abuja Middle School?
Very well. At the moment, I know four or five of us that are still alive. Two are in Minna now and one in Suleja. We speak very often. The person in Suleja is Zakari Bala and the ones in Minna are Hassan Zubair and Mahmud Kenchi, whose father was a transporter. We all are now old.
Interestingly, we were 60 in our class. The best students were kept in A while other were in B. I was in A. There was no preference for a son or daughter of this and that; everything was based on performance. Three of us were leading the A class; one from Keffi, one from Zaria and the third student was myself. It was competition all-round the academic year as the three of us respectively exchanged the first position in the class after each term’s exam. When it came to entrance exam into secondary school, the three of us were the best.
The children of nowadays are lucky. We didn’t have their kind of school, but we managed and enjoyed it. In the morning you would go for pap and beans cake (akara).
How much were you paying?
We did not pay anything; rather, the government was paying us. We were paid transport money when we were going on holidays. We were given uniforms by the government for free. That is why those who had that kind of privilege feel sad about what is happening today.
How would you describe your transition from the middle school in Abuja to Barewa College, Zaria, then Okenne?
After the middle school, we took exams. Then, there were 13 secondary schools in northern Nigeria, apart from Barewa College. At that time, there were more Muslims in Barewa just as there were more Christians in Government College, Keffi. That notwithstanding, we mutually related with one another. Interestingly, even the Igbo were at the Barewa College, Zaria.
I remember that I wanted to join the military; 21 of us went for the exams and five of us passed. But fortunately, or unfortunately, the training was to start in November and we were to finish our West African School Certificate Examination (WASCE) on December 18, so we were asked to come back. It was in the following year that General Muhammadu Buhari and others enlisted into the army. When we finished our WASCE, I applied for navy again. I was selected, but our result to go for HSC came out and my principal advised me to go for a degree programme. At that time, the navy was interesting and we had done the exams and interviews. This happened when I was in Barewa College. Again, we went to Kings College, Lagos. The school was established mainly for southerners, but it later became a national institution and the North asked for its own quota, which was mainly based on merit. That year, 15 of us were taken from the North.
In those days, everything was based on merit. That was why I spent a year there. A professor from Bauchi, a psychiatric doctor, was my mate. We went with Isa from Ilorin, who went to the police later. One director in the National Youth Service Corps (NYSC) from Bauchi was also part of us.
At that time, if you failed to perform very well, they would advise you appropriately. In the school certificate, I had a Credit, not A, in one of the core subjects I took in Kings College and the vice principal was not comfortable with that. So, he sent somebody from Kaduna to ask if I would like to move to another school. That was why I moved to Okenne. They gave me options because I was doing Mathematics, Physics and General Paper.
Did you proceed to the Ahmadu Bello University (ABU), Zaria from there?
No. I was going for engineering, so I came to Kaduna. I had a posting waiting for me because at that time, employment was not a problem. I was posted to Katsina to teach Mathematics, but I said no. Katsina was then not more than a rural community in spite of its expansive land mass. As I told you, most of the roads in the North were then not tarred. So, I was not comfortable with that posting. I was employed in a school teaching programme.
One afternoon, I went round and saw an engineer who took my certificate and promised to offer me a scholarship. Interestingly, I was told to give my certificate to the staff officer in the Ministry of Works. The staff officer came for my certificate and I said no. I went down to the Ministry of Education. I was enjoying the programme I was doing, and towards December, we visited our principal at Barewa College, who was then the inspector of education. He said I was been looked for in the Ministry of Works. This was because of the quality of the certificate I had. It’s unlike what is happening nowadays when merit has been abandoned. This, of course, makes me sad.
Can you say we are facing some problems in the country today because we have jettisoned merit?
There are two reasons. There is what we call demand and supply in finance. This means the universities can no longer accommodate the number of people who are qualified; that is on one side. On the other side, the children of those who cannot afford private universities are more, and they cannot force themselves into the public universities. In our own days you chose a career when you were getting into the final year in secondary school. Your career master would guide you on what to take. But nowadays, children lack appropriate guidance to make that decision. They decide on their own. That is why we are having problems.
What about the offer in the Ministry of Works?
I went back there and met the engineer and presented the scholarship award to go to Pakistan to study engineering. I did not go because the offer from the university did not come on time.
Malam Abubakar Imam was then the chairman of the Civil Service Commission in Northern Nigeria. I was in the Ministry of Works for some months where I worked in the Civil Engineering Department. While designing, like a joke I saw a mailbox in a paper called Morning Post. When I applied, I did not know it was for agriculture. You had to fill a civil service form and so on. When they invited me to come for interview, I ran away. I later learnt from a friend that none of those who attended the first interview was qualified, so when I came back, they asked me to go. Nine of us went and I was praying not to pass. But it was interesting that after the exams and interviews, I turned out to be the best. That was what changed my destiny in life.
When I left agriculture, I went into administration. I was also in population commission at one time, where I acted as secretary. From there, I went to the Ministry of Finance where I retired.
Why are you not in politics?
When I retired from service, they asked me to join politics. My people wanted to force me into it, but I said no. I do not want to mention names, but many prominent people in Niger State took me up on that and I said no. I rejected those offers for some reasons. As an observer of politics in Nigeria, you can’t go into it (politics) and come out neat. One has to be grateful to Allah that one achieved what one did not expect in life.
Can you speak more on events while you were in active service?
In the Ministry of Finance, I was a director in charge of federal revenue, banking services and licensing. You know what that means. At that time, there was government control of sorts on banks. It was the Ministry of Finance that supervised the banking sector. So, every quarter, the Central Bank would report on each bank, and it would be analysed by my department for advice. As a result of that, we recommended about 37 new generation banks, which are giants today. They went through our table before their formation, but I do not have a share in any of them. They offered me shares and I rejected them. There was one or two that insisted and gave me, but I put it in my drawer. I returned it to them on the day we were giving them their licences. The facts are there.
In 1986 came the Structural Adjustment Programme (SAP), which was introduced through the International Monetary Fund (IMF). The World Bank proposed to us to make a choice between A or B because they said the economy was going down. Those of us who are alive will remember the age of import licensing. A lot happened.
One can appreciate former President Babangida for having the courage of a leader because it was a decision that was very hard to take. Up till now, SAP is implicitly ongoing in Nigeria. The exchange rate was floating before it was pegged. When we introduced it, you would buy N1 for $2. It later came down to $1; go and check. The Central Bank used to keep the statistics. How much is it today?
We regulated and allowed the market to play its role. When we were leaving in 1993, $1 was N22. Late General Abacha floated it to N34.
Can you speak more on the advantages of that decision?
By the time we introduced the SAP, it became difficult to import goods. But now, you can sit in your room and order things from America and it will come to you. Is it an advantage? We are paying a price today.
Is that why the dollar is still going higher?
Yes.
What can we do to check this?
The Central Bank will advise on that; I am no longer in the system.
There is a story that you once hosted MKO Abiola in Muye; is it true?
I did not host him.
What happened?
I was appointed a minister from my position as a permanent secretary. As you know, Abiola was a businessman (May his soul rest in peace). So, he used to come to my office, sometimes with a bottle of water. When I was appointed Minister of Finance, my good friends in Niger State organised a reception for me in the village, Muye. MKO and Adenuga who now owns Glo, and some other prominent people who were bankers attended. They came to Muye. Abiola arrived from London that very morning and I went to the airport to pick him in my car.
He thought that having been a director in charge of banks and so on and a permanent secretary in the Ministry of Finance, I should have had a mansion in my village. But what I had then was a bungalow; a three-bedroom bungalow. We stayed there and he was wondering why it was so. I am sorry to say this, in those days my primary concern was the honour and interest of the job and not money. But today, I thank Allah, I am benefitting from that integrity.
How did you meet former President Babangida? Are you still in touch with him?
We spoke even two days ago. Actually, when I was appointed permanent secretary, former President Babangida did not know much about me. He did not even know I was from Niger. What happened was that my department used to have about 80 memoranda to the Council (then Armed Forces Ruling Council). I had written a memo on Islamic banking because I was very much experienced in it. I read about their operations in Belgium and so forth. I raised a memo to the Council undersigned by one of the chief executives of a commercial bank and a director in the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN). Fortunately, two of them happened to have attended Barewa College too. In the Council, they were not comfortable with the memo, but I told my minister go ahead. When he came to that memo, he just said memo number 13 deferred.
When I was recommended for the position of a permanent secretary, General Babangida asked who I was and they said the official who came with the memo for Islamic banking. That was how our relationship started. The head of service, Aliyu Muhammed, was my permanent secretary. When he left the ministry, I took over from him. That was what actually happened. And since then, we have been what we are.
How did he approve your appointment as permanent secretary after rejecting a memo from you that generated controversy?
Actually, he did it on his own. Indeed, General Babangida never got angry or took offence because both of you differed on one thing or the other.
Let’s talk about your traditional titles; Walin Muye, Makama Lapai.
In Islam, Wali in the actual sense is somebody who advises a traditional ruler on religious affairs. But today, that has changed. As you know, the traditional title is no longer reserved for those who deserve it but those who have money. Normally, traditional titles are given to people who have contributed to the development and achievement of the community in one way or another. In our days, some traditional titles were inherited. In Okenne, there is no way they will ask you to be an Attah unless you belong to that family. The Etsu (Emir) of Lapai gave me the title.
In actual sense, the Makama belongs to the family. The Emir believes I have contributed a lot to the community and thus gave it to me. And by that, you become a member of the council.
Is there anything you wish you could have done better?
We were lucky to be involved in the Structural Adjustment Programme. We knew what we wanted to do. As you know, when introducing a new system, you have to market it by creating awareness so that people will appreciate it.
We organised discussions on our new policy, especially concerning foreign borrowing. It looked attractive but raised its owns questions. If you obtain a loan from the bank today and you are to pay at the end of the month and you did not pay, that amount is added to your original loan and interest. We restricted our borrowing to multinational organisations like the African Development Bank (AFDB) and the IMF. I remember that when we left, we had about N29 million outstanding.
When we started the SAP, people thought it was a two-year programme, but I told you it is still ongoing today. That’s the kind of thing we did not imagine when we started it. That’s why I said you would have to get the mind of the people prepared for what is coming so that they can appreciate it. Maybe, we should have consulted further. That is the kind of thing we would do differently if we were to do it again, but that is not to say that we were wrong.
To create a decree, you will go through several procedures in the Council, it took a long process. Apart from the SAP, we also introduced other financial programmes like the Value Added Tax.
Is there anything you like or hate to remember?
As a human being, there is no way you would not be tested by Allah. You will have a moment in life that you will feel uncomfortable, but you have to bear it. As I said, my movement to the Ministry of Finance was not by my design, but Allah wished it to come to past.
When I went to the federal civil service, I was not expecting to be anything more than a director, but as Allah wished, I became a minister. I think that’s a moment to remember. I have attended so many international organisations’ meetings, where I represented Nigeria. Who would have expected that I would be there? All these events are remarkable. In life, you have to maintain honesty; money will come if Allah wishes.
The moment I will not forget was when I had a son in 1973. On the day of the naming ceremony, about 13 relatives of his mother died in a motor accident along Gusau road. At that time, there was no mobile phone (GSM) and they came from different places. That’s the kind of thing you won’t forget. Another one was when I lost my father. I watched him die. He was approaching 90. When the time comes you can’t add to it. He prayed in the morning. Then, one of his friends visited him. Few minutes after his friend left for his house, my father asked me to go and call him back. So, I went after his friend. By the time his friend and I arrived, he had passed on. These are moments in life that will remain indelible. Not that you think of them, but when it comes up in your memory, you tell the children.