Tunde Fagbenle: Saleh Sambo – An enigma departs

by Tunde Fagbenle

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Times had drawn us apart and I did not reconnect with Mallam Saleh Jambo in the intervening years before his death. Yet, there was a true Nigerian whose friendship and interest cut across ethnic or religious lines; my benefactor; an urbane gentleman; and a generous heart. May his soul rest in peace.

It was a big shock to see the full page advert in The PUNCH newspapers of September 6 signed by Col. Sani Bello (retd), as President of the Nigerian Association of Indigenous Petroleum Explorers and Producers (NAIPEC), announcing the death of Mallam Saleh Mohammed Jambo (OON). Saleh Jambo apparently passed away on August 24. I was shocked and saddened.

Writing this tribute on the enigma called Saleh Jambo is the least I could do in repaying, a little, the debt of gratitude I owe S.M Jambo for the role he played, his magnanimity in my life in those early days of my adult life when, bitten by the “Sokugo” (for those who read Cyprian Ekwensi’sbook, The Burning Grass, as I did for English Literature in secondary school in the early 60s), my spirit of adventurism had flung me (with my equally Bohemian and romantic young wife, Funmi, in tow!) into the waiting arms of life’s uncertainty and befuddlement.That was way back in 1973 or so – forty years ago!

Funmi and I –bless her soul – newly married in the most unconventional and stealthy of manner – had found ourselves in Kano literally by the throw-of-the -dice. This would be hard to believe, but it is true. We wanted away from Lagos for no particular reason other than the urge to move. Nigeria in those days was different – safe and beautiful.We spread a map of Nigeria out before us;held each other’s hand; closed our eyes; and let a finger drop on a spot. When we opened our eyes, the spot was Kano. We knew no soul there and neither of us had ever been there. It could have been Abakaliki or KauraNamoda for all we cared. We resigned from our good jobs – she from the Federal Ministry of Finance, I, from the Railways. And Kano here we come! That’s the story for a novel (memoir?) that may still get written before it’s my time to go.

In Kano we drifted and soon met a man, a kindred spirit in many ways. His name was Bala Miller. Yes, the same celebrated Bala Miller. Bless his soul. He “adopted” us with avuncular geniality and we briefly stayed with him, playing scrabble endlessly (with Prof. Adamu Baikie, M.T. Waziri, etc), and assimilated into his social circle.

And in that circle was one man exuding an air of importance. He spoke differently too, with a heavy American affectation. He was Saleh Jambo – light-complexioned, youthful looking but certainly older than I was and with the demeanour ofa nouveau riche.Even his name bore that tonal rhythm of peculiarity and importance.

Those were General Yakubu Gowon years, a few years after the end of the Civil War. In Kano was Audu Bako, a Commissioner of Police, and one of two or so non-army military governors. Saleh Jambo had the fortune of being married to Audu Bako’s daughter, and thus into immeasurable financial possibilities; Saleh Jambo himself being smart and exposed at a time and place when not many were, and when the governors were gods, made good use of the opportunity.

Saleh drove some of the best cars around, a bright yellow sporty Mustang was his favourite, amongst the many he owned. His house was huge and equally striking in the quiet and rich Nassarawa neighbourhood. His firm, Riverbank (Nig.) Ltd, occupied a conspicuous spot on the major business avenue in Kano, and was distinguished by the ceaseless flow of white businessmen – Americans, English, and Europeans – who thronged his office for link to good business with the Kano State government.

I had always been an ideas man, even that way back, and when I came up with an idea of a colourful guide to Kano, showcasing the many beauty of the ancient city where the old architectural and cultural forms (the Dubar, the Kano pyramids, the dye pits, etc) jostled the breathtaking new creations of Audu Bako’s administration (the rich zoo, Bagauda Lake Hotel, Water Reservoir, Tiga Dam, etc), it was to Saleh Jambo I turned. Saleh did not bat an eyelid in sponsoring my trip to Europe (touring Germany and the UK) to explore what obtains and come up with a matching product.

When, at another time, the brainwave for a plastic identity card technology struck me, it was again Saleh Jambo that came to the rescue in importing the novel equipment for its production that served the workforce of many a Kano industry and establishment well. For Jambo, money should not be the object in bringing good ideas to life.

I left Kano after my wife died, and for years later, I heard nothing again of S.M. Jambo. But it was no surprise when upon the advent of the Shehu Shagari government the name Saleh Mohammed Jambo hit the Nigeria political wave like a thunderbolt, often named along with Umaru Dikko and Ishyaku Ibrahim as the kingpin and brain-box of the conservative Northern dominated NPN party. Even then, Saleh Jambo was the least brash amongst the three, and hailed as “the American-influenced Saleh Jambo” in America’s Time magazine report on that heady time.

I am told Saleh Jambo is (was) one of the Northern oil barons owning oil blocs and was the President of NAIPEC from 1995-1997 and the obituary acclaimed him as the organisation’s “mentor and inspiration.”

In later years I discovered we had a mutual friend in Mr. (later Oba) Oladele Olashore. Times had drawn us apart and I did not reconnect with Mallam Saleh Jambo in the intervening years before his death. Yet, there was a true Nigerian whose friendship and interest cut across ethnic or religious lines; my benefactor; an urbane gentleman; and a generous heart. May his soul rest in peace.

Taking the National Assembly to court

A reader, “utterly disgusted” by the scandalous amount of money being drawn by our Federal legislators believes moaning about it is useless.

And so, Sope Durodola has decided that a court action by concerned citizens, whose tax-paying money goes into the pockets of the legislators, is possible recourse.  “I believe there are millions of other people out there just like me,” he says. Sope wants “the judiciary to compel the Revenue and Fiscal Mobilisation Commission to benchmark salaries for the legislature based on what the minimum wage for the public service is and/or based on best practice from other democracies around the world.”

Writing from [email protected], he seeks like minds to join hands with him to prosecute the “citizen action”, attributing the continued malaise in the society to the docility of the middle class. Good luck to Sope.

 

Richard Akinnola @ 55

It’s coming a week or two late, but this is to wish my brother and friend, Richard Akinnola, that irrepressible human rights fighter and lawyer, a happy 55th birthday.

A few weeks ago, I got a message from Richard asking to know if I was in London. Luckily I was.

“Egbon, my 55th birthday is next Friday, 23rd (August)”, he said, asking if I could be there. It was the eve of my departure back to Nigeria, but being there for Richard was obligatory for me. I have been following his many public actions for the common good, and I remember we both ran under Gani Fawehinmi’s NCP in 2003: I for Senate in Osun, and he for House of Representatives in Lagos.

The sumptuous dinner held at a Chinese Restaurant at the celebrated O2 Arena in the Docklands of London attended by my wife and I. It was a simple occasion with his children and a few friends. Fifty more years for the public good, Richard.

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– Republished with the permission of the author.

 

Op-ed pieces and contributions are the opinions of the writers only and do not represent the opinions of Y!/YNaija.

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