Reminiscences with Aliyu Atta
A former InspectorGeneral of Police (IGP), Alhaji Aliyu Ibrahim Atta, is a prince from the Okene province of Ebiraland. He served as IGP during the military administration of General Ibrahim Babangida and retired in August 1993. In this exclusive interview during his 80th birthday at his Asokoro, Abuja residence, he spoke on his experiences as a cop who rose through the ranks to the highest position in the Nigeria Police Force. He also spoke on other important national issues.
What are your earliest memories of childhood? Well, I was born on May 12, 1937, to the family of Alhaji Ibrahim Atta and Hajiya Salamatu. I grew up in the palace in Okene, up to about 10 years when I finished from Qur’anic school. My dad then sent me to his good friend, the Emir of Katsina, Muhammadu Dikko. Dikko told his son, Nagoggo, that I was to stay with him. While there, I attended Katsina Middle School. It was from there that I went to Barewa College, Zaria. The relationship continued for a long time, such that when I had my children, I took them to the palace for introduction. The emir prayed for them and took them to the women’s quarters. I was surprised that his mother still knew me as Dan Sarkin Okene, meaning son of the Emir of Okene. My father was a link to the North and the South-West.
I was very good in sports. In Barewa College we were in the same compound with Umaru Shinkafi, who told them that I was very good in athletics and hockey. So they sent one Assistant Superintendent of Police (ASP) to check me out. He reported back that I was good. The British colonialists were looking for good people to replace them.
My dad wanted me to study Medicine or any other related course. When there was so much pressure during the struggle for independence, my dad left the throne on his own.
I joined the police in 1960. From Zaria they referred me to Kaduna. We started temporarily on February 2. It was a preliminary move before we were taken to Ikeja. If they had left us, other conglomerates like the United Africa Company (UAC) etc would have ‘snatched’ us. Soldiers were also looking for cadets.
We started the actual course in Ikeja, Lagos. Alhaji Gambo Jimeta was ahead of us. In Kaduna, they had taught us how to march, drill and stuffs like that, so we showed superiority over those from the South; we had an edge.
After one year, we came back and started the advanced course. We were then taken to Cameroun. It was a one-month course, and it was like a Man-o-War thing, climbing mountains and seeing Calabar from the mountain at night. It prepared us for the challenges ahead. When we came back I found myself in Kano as an inspector. Usually, one had to work for three years to get the practical experience, but luckily, I just spent one year and was promoted to the rank of ASP. That was in 1962.
I helped my other squad mates to become AIGs or DIGs. I was posted to Yola, where I stayed for six months. From there I went to London, Wakefield in particular, on a course.
Did anything spectacular happen to you during those years?
Yes, it’s in the book I am writing. There was a man known as Audu Dogo, who was the leader of cattle rustlers. It was on record in Kaduna that he and his gang had killed 68 persons and took their cattle out of Nigeria to sell. It was getting too much. The commissioner of police in the North delegated me to go and look for him in Adamawa province. I was there for several days. It’s the same Sambisa Forest, which was very thick by then. One day, I met a corporal who recognised me as his relative. He asked what I was doing there and I told him I was looking for Audu Dogo. He knelt down and told me to go back, saying he did not know what he would tell my dad if I died. So I turned back to Mubi and decided to go to market places and ask people. One day, I met an old man who asked why I was looking for Audu Dogo. He said that as a small boy I would not be able to do anything even if I saw him. At that point, I pulled my pistol and shot at a tree. When he heard the sound and saw a branch split, he shouted, “Dan kankanin abu ne Kaman wannan yayi barna haka!’’ meaning, so a small thing like this can cause such harm. He said we should give him three days. He actually said Audu Dogo had seen us looking for him and laughed at us.
I reported to the provisional police officer, a white man known as Mr. Peter Grant (he died in England recently) and he said, “Very good.’’
The third day in Yola, they brought the head of Audu Dogo and his second in command in a carton. They asked for the Bature and took him to Mr. Grant and opened the carton for people to see. Fulani women shouted. Grant said they should go and bury the heads. I was told to send signal to Kaduna. The following day a reply came that they wanted to see the heads, but we told them that it was too late since they had been buried already.
So you moved to Britain?
Yes, I went for a detective course. We met officers from Ghana, Kenya, Uganda and other places for six months before we were sent on attachment. I went to Southern England.
Did you experience any disorientation while in the UK?
cultural Of course, but because of our earlier training, it was not difficult. We were