Daily Trust Saturday

The Oshiomhole you didn’t know

- Abdulkaree­m Baba Aminu & Nathaniel Bivan

After a long, storied tenure as president of the Nigerian Labour Congress (NLC), Adams Oshiomhole went on to become the governor of Edo State, completing two terms, after a longdrawn court battle. Currently gunning for the position of chairman of ruling party, All People’s Congress (APC), he shows no signs of slowing down his political career. Although one of the most recognizab­le Nigerian public figures, surprising­ly little is known about his personal life. Daily Trust Saturday cornered him for a revealing chat, and herewith are excerpts:

Daily Trust: You captured the imaginatio­n of the nation when you remarried a couple of years back. How is your wife coping with your obviously very busy schedule? Adams Oshiomhole: She knows that a ‘disease’ I have is that we can be having a conversati­on and I would take a newspaper and be momentaril­y lost. But I think she copes very well. She was active in the Governors’ Wives Forum, and as the wife of the governor of Edo State she had no difficulty in identifyin­g some gaps, one of which I confessed to. Namely, the fact that during my entire tenure as governor, I never visited an orphanage. That was one of my failures. She came in, not through my advice, and said, ‘you know, Adams, there are about forty-five orphanages in Edo’, including some in my own local government.

The first thing she thought we should do, was to identify the orphanages, their locations, and profile them: How children get there, how long they live there, and the character of the proprietor­s. She asked me about the laws regulating orphanages. Are there laws on abduction, or one stays there until he or she is a certain age? Those are the things that, hard as I tried to solve all the problems of Edo State, I didn’t focus on. I think she did a great job. The young IDPs at the camp in Edo have adopted her as their mother, because she was always going there. What they needed was not just food and supplies, but the affection of a mother.

She goes to the orphanages to play table tennis with them. It was then I realised she knows how to play the game, even. When people have been dislocated from their original abode, what they need is not a tent over their head. In the case of children, because they are growing up, they need to be educated so that when they return they would have skills. So, she organised many skills acquisitio­n programmes. We had to build a school. From what I have read, some of them have passed WAEC and sought admission to university, which was the whole idea. So, she was able to adjust. And Edo women were always ready to assist her. During the campaign for the last governorsh­ip election that produced my successor, she excited the women when she ululated like they did. She even got an ovation, more than my long speech (laughter).

DT: Have any of your five children shown any interest in following your career footsteps?

Oshiomhole: Unfortunat­ely, no. But first, because I discourage­d them when they were growing up. I told them not to even join student unions in school. When they asked why, I said it is very risky. ‘I just managed to survive, but I don’t want you to do it. Go and read your books’.

My first son is a medical doctor. My second, a girl, is also a doctor, in fact a fellow in Paediatric Neurology. My third read Accountanc­y and she is working with the Central Bank. My fourth studied Business Administra­tion and works with Setraco. My fifth son read Economics and Public Finance, and works at a bank. That’s it.

DT: How do you relate with them?

Oshiomhole: That has been a bit of a challenge, because for a long time, my late wife said she had donated me to Nigerian workers. I was more of an absentee husband. Even when I was in Kaduna, I alternate between one police station and the other, and factory work. When I finish my job as a worker, we had union meetings in the evening since we couldn’t hold them during work hours.

So, from an early age I was used to spending extra hours. Then I went into Nigeria Labour Congress level and the struggle was deregulate­d. We have a whole national constituen­cy and travelled from one place to another. My family was in Kaduna and NLC headquarte­rs was in Lagos. I moved to Abuja when I became president. Abuja and Kaduna are close, but there was that distance neverthele­ss. I became more of a visiting husband. But I have five children, which is not by accident. Which means I still managed to do everything a husband does, and I’ve raised a happy family.

DT: You are known for your safari suits, even from the early days of your career in organised labour. When exactly did you pick up an affinity for them?

Oshiomhole: Some people during my Labour days once said to me, ‘Comrade, people have said you are pretending by wearing khaki or safari suits’. But it’s not a statement about my comfort level, it just speaks to two things. First is that, I think it’s very fashionabl­e and functional. I learned in a public speaking course, while I was at Oxford, that your job and what you want to do on a good day should influence your choice of dressing.

So, for me, once I became a union leader, I chose my style and decided I would be active on the streets as I would be in the office. Perhaps more on the streets where the people are. It’s not functional for me to wear a six-piece Agbada, and I take ten minutes trying to manage it. What if I have to run from police tear gas? These are not things I plan for, but they just occur.

I come from the textile industry, a blue-collar background, and every worker there wears uniforms, like I wore when I was working at Arewa Textiles in Kaduna. Oftentimes, we held our meetings under the sun, or a tree. It wouldn’t make sense for me to dress like a manager who oppresses them. I need to look like one of them.

The other is a practical issue. If I wore a suit and tie, and went as I used to at the Federal Secretaria­t, addressing workers under the sun about why they must come down and join the strike, I would be kidding myself. On a good day, in the morning I could be at the Federal Secretaria­t, and be in the Villa in the evening. So, I don’t want to under-dress, but I also don’t want to look like their oppressor.

When I am going to the Villa, I don’t want to be seen to be breaching protocol by appearing unkempt before the oppressor. So, I found that the safari suit and my khakis depict my background as a worker who was compelled, not by choice, to wear a uniform. I wore that uniform for long, even before I became a union leader. I just find it very comfortabl­e, and even now I wear it.

This would interest you: After I got married, I bought a couple of suits. Also, I had to pay attention to detail when choosing a tailor. So, I went to visit president Buhari, and he looked at me and said, ‘Comrade, you are looking so…’. Then I told him I knew I was going to visit my president and I thought I should put on my ‘Christmas clothes’. He replied ‘Comrade, on the contrary, this president prefers you in your combat khaki uniform’. I told him his orders are well-taken, and added that I’d never wear suit to the Villa again.

Another time I also wore a suit, when the wife of the late president Yar’adua was coming to Edo, I was confused about protocol. I didn’t want to be misunderst­ood, so I put on a suit to receive her. I was on the front page of a newspaper, and Asiwaju [Bola Tinubu] called me and said, ‘That is not you in the picture. Don’t try to change what you are not. Just remain who you are’.

So, even now, when I wear something different, I find that it becomes an issue. If the Master of Ceremony in an occasion wants to begin, he would first look at me and talk about the absence of my usual outfit. That’s it!

DT: After eight years of governorsh­ip, now there is the whole APC chairmansh­ip issue. Then there was a time it was rumoured you had a presidenti­al ambition. Is it true?

Oshiomhole: It is a rumour, as you said. But the truth is that I think the only time my name was mentioned was at the end of my tenure in the NLC, when I decided to contest. The late Gani Fawehinmi said I should contest for president. Professor Itse Sagay, and some other radicals, also said I should contest. I said thanks, but I would rather contest for governorsh­ip.

Then Gani issued a statement. You know when he believes in something, he lets it be known. When I insisted on governorsh­ip and collected a form, he issued a statement saying, ‘Here’s a lion who has chosen to work like a Lilliputia­n. It would be easier for you Comrade to win the presidency of Nigeria than the governorsh­ip of Edo State, given the kind of godfathers there are, and the vicious way politics is played in Edo.’

I went to Ikeja to convince him that even as a local government chairman, one can still make a difference. I also explained to him that, yes, there is hardly any village we go to in Nigeria where people would ask who I am. Even in the far North, in the East and West. But this popularity and affection that the public has, the process of converting it to an electoral asset is also huge. It requires time and resources. Not resources to buy people, as those who are not known would do, but to travel round. In my own case, you had to go to local government­s, and that is what I did in Edo. We went to communitie­s where politician­s never visited, because they write results on their behalf. I needed to go and assure them that they could vote and defend it. That was it, and I went into governorsh­ip.

Like Gani predicted, I had to fight with the godfathers. Like I assured him, God willing we would prevail, and we did. I handed over power to a successor of my own party, which I think was a huge accomplish­ment.

DT: Speaking of governorsh­ip, eight years is a long time. Do you miss it?

Oshiomhole: No. You see, as they say, the Englishman is still not used to his weather, that is why he wears an overcoat. Because of my circumstan­ces of birth, and life experience, born in typical rural Nigeria without government presence, with just land and sunshine, to parents who only had two or three hectares of land to farm, and moving at the age of fifteen or sixteen to Kaduna in 1968 to look for employment in one of the legacies of Sardauna of Sokoto, who set up textile industries.

When you go through all of that, there is a way the process toughens you. You then find yourself elected to represent the oppressed and confront power, and the only instrument you have is mobilisati­on and persuasion skills. But going to governance, the character of the struggle changed a little bit, now a different battle within a dominant ruling class. I did that for eight years in Edo. I always tell people in Edo, I never spent two nights in Abuja unless I could not help it. Once I am done I go back.

My wife used to tell me that people said to her I will be depressed when I leave office. But she has been surprised that since I left office, I have been very happy. People even say I am looking fresher, and I say ‘thank God’. Sometimes they say she is responsibl­e for it, but truth is, I had to make up for sixteen years of not having proper sleep. Eight years in NLC, another eight in government house. I sleep on an average of ten hours since I left office.

If I were to have any worries, God has resolved those by ensuring that I am succeeded by a government that is competent and running the government of the state very efficientl­y and effectivel­y. So, no, I don’t miss it.

DT: What is your favourite food, and how often do you indulge in it?

Oshiomhole: It has changed. When I was growing up, I used to like Egusi. But now, at this age, I am told that if you eat too much of it, your cholestero­l level could go up and be injurious to your health. What I generally used to like was pounded yam, Ogbono soup or Okro soup and Miyar Kuka when I was in Kaduna.

During fasting, I used to be happy because my parents being Muslims, used to eat pounded yam at 5am. My joy was that a lot was usually left when I woke up. That was the only time we had beef to eat. But now I am told I can’t even eat beef. There are a lot of contradict­ions in life.

Then by the time I got to Government House, the state was ready to provide all those things for me as part of my entitlemen­t. Then doctors tell me I can’t eat too many eggs or meat, and I said life can be so unfair. This is the time I should eat all of those things I once couldn’t afford.

I enjoy washing my hands to eat. I don’t enjoy using cutlery. Once, President Buhari made an observatio­n when we had a state banquet. I tried to eat with cutlery, especially when you have the privilege of dining next to the president. Now, not many people know that the president is very humourous, and he said, ‘Comrade, the speed with which you are eating this food, it’s either you have not eaten for a long time or you are rushing somewhere’. I said, ‘No, your excellency, you see, as a factory worker I had only thirty minutes break and it started from the time they triggered the alarm to announce it. You then leave your section and rush to the canteen. You eat the food quickly and return. I never had the luxury of relaxing’.

for a long time my late wife said she had donated me to Nigerian workers. I was more of an absentee husband. Even when I was in Kaduna, I alternate between one police station and the other, and factory work

 ??  ??
 ?? PHOTOS: Abdul Musa ?? Comrade Adams Oshiomhole:
PHOTOS: Abdul Musa Comrade Adams Oshiomhole:
 ??  ?? Oshiomhole: “My kids aren’t interested in politics
Oshiomhole: “My kids aren’t interested in politics
 ??  ?? Oshiomhole: “I had to fight godfathers for Edo governorsh­ip.”
Oshiomhole: “I had to fight godfathers for Edo governorsh­ip.”

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