Ibrahim Babangida’s Book Launch: Confessions, Contradictions, and the Future of Nigeria

posted 21st February 2025

Ibrahim Babangida’s Book Launch: Confessions, Contradictions, and the Future of Nigeria
Former military ruler Ibrahim Babangida, infamous for annulling Nigeria’s historic 1993 presidential election, launched his book A Journey in Service yesterday. The event, rather than being a reflection on service and leadership, became a grandiose fundraising ceremony, where a staggering 17 billion naira was raised—ostensibly for a presidential library. However, closer scrutiny suggests that this wealth will likely fund presidential suites and luxury hotels in Minna, rather than a true centre of knowledge.
Most of the donors who contributed to Babangida’s cause hail from northern Nigeria—a region currently plagued by hunger, poverty, and infrastructural decay. The sight of billions being thrown into the hands of a former dictator while children attend dilapidated schools is a bitter irony. Among the high-profile attendees was Mrs Folorunso Alakija, a billionaire who owes much of her wealth to the privileges granted by Babangida’s regime. Her presence at the event underscores the intricate relationship between Nigeria’s elite and those who hold the reins of power.
Beyond Alakija, the book launch was a reunion of ex-soldiers who benefitted from the annulment of the 1993 election. Notably present were Abdulsalami Abubakar and Olusegun Obasanjo. Obasanjo’s record, stained by the Odi and Zaki Biam massacres, raises moral questions about Nigeria’s leadership history. If Babangida and his contemporaries remain unaccountable for past misdeeds, what precedent does this set for the nation’s future? Should figures like Obasanjo, who have ordered killings of innocent civilians, be forgiven without accountability? Just like Babangida asked his then Inspector General of Police- where is Anini, should Nigerians today be asking him - where is Abiola?
One of the most startling moments of the book launch was Babangida’s admission that Moshood Abiola won the 1993 election. While this may not be new information to Nigerians, his public confession raises pressing questions: is this enough? Should he now be arrested and tried for his role in subverting democracy? Or is this yet another ploy to control the historical narrative, presenting himself as a misunderstood statesman rather than an architect of electoral injustice?
For decades, Babangida and his allies have attempted to shift blame onto the late General Sani Abacha, implying that he was the true villain behind the annulment. This is a convenient rewriting of history. If Babangida was truly powerless to uphold the democratic will of the people, then what does that say about the nature of military rule in Nigeria? If he had the power to annul the election, he had the power to validate it. His confession does not absolve him—it indicts him.
Babangida’s confession inevitably draws comparisons to Nigeria’s 2023 presidential election, where many believe Peter Obi was the rightful winner, yet Bola Tinubu was declared victorious. If Babangida can admit—decades later—that he denied Nigerians their chosen leader, will Mahmood Yakubu, the chairman of the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC), one day confess that Peter Obi actually won? Could he, too, turn this into a profitable revelation, launching a book in the future and receiving billions from benefactors?
The parallels are striking. In both 1993 and 2023, the will of the Nigerian people was overshadowed by political manoeuvring. This raises a critical concern: does Nigeria truly operate a democracy, or is the electoral process merely a performance to legitimise predetermined outcomes? If the latter is true, then what lessons should Nigerians draw from Babangida’s confession, and how should these lessons shape the struggle for a more transparent electoral system?
Beyond the annulment of the 1993 election, Babangida’s tenure is remembered for economic policies that enriched a select few while plunging many into poverty. His Structural Adjustment Programme (SAP), while praised in some quarters, devastated the economy, leading to mass unemployment and inflation. The corrupt patronage system he entrenched remains alive today, as evidenced by the unchecked looting of public funds.
The 17 billion naira raised at his book launch stands as a stark reminder of Nigeria’s persistent wealth inequality. While the northern elite lavishly fund his ambitions, ordinary citizens in the region grapple with malnutrition, out-of-school children, and insecurity. Instead of investing in education, healthcare, or job creation, Nigeria’s political and military class continue to funnel resources into vanity projects.
The fundamental question remains: is a new Nigeria possible? Can the cycle of impunity and political manipulation be broken? Babangida’s confession, while significant, should serve as a catalyst for justice rather than mere reflection. If Nigeria is to move forward, historical injustices must be addressed, and those who subvert democracy must be held accountable.
As long as political figures can rewrite history to suit their interests, the possibility of a new Nigeria remains elusive. However, the growing political awareness among Nigerians, especially the youth, offers a glimmer of hope. The widespread support for candidates like Peter Obi in 2023 demonstrates that many Nigerians are eager for change. The challenge now is to ensure that the voices of the people are not just heard but respected.
If Babangida can admit to rigging history, the next logical step is justice—not just for Abiola, but for Nigeria as a whole. Anything less would be a mockery of democracy.