The changing face of Igboho and Kanu’s Fendi
THE order day when security agents stormed the Ibadan home of Sunday Adeyemo, popular as Sunday Igboho, they probably planned it to be a double whammy for the Nigerian government. You know, a double victory.
A couple of days earlier, they had, in a successful, but controversial coup, re- arrested ( some say kidnapped) Mazi Nnamdi Kanu, the leader of the Indigenous Peoples of Biafra ( IPOB), and the founder of its militant wing, Eastern Security Network ( ESN). So, what better week could they have than to also arrest Igboho, Kanu’s, recent equivalent in the Southwest?
Both men have the same mission. They say their agenda is to liberate their people from the fangs of injustice and inequality and marginalization. To achieve that, both want out of Nigeria. While Kanu seeks an Independent Biafra where honey would flow like a river, and poverty banished, Igboho seeks an Oduduwa Republic, which would be an Eldorado.
The Nigerian government feels otherwise. It sees both men as dangerous irritants. Having gotten one in the bag, Kanu, they went for the second one, Igboho. But they failed.
Igboho is the proverbial cat with nine lives. For the number of times Igboho and his associates claimed security agents came after him for an arrest, the agents failed in their mission.
One of Igboho’s spectacular escapes happened along the Lagos- Ibadan expressway a couple of months back. Igboho was on his way to Lagos for a meeting with Chief Ayo Adebanjo, the Afenifere leader when he was, according to reports, accosted by a combination of security agents. They reportedly blocked his movement, and made to arrest him. He miraculously escaped that arrest. The agents denied there was any such attempt. But confronting us, as proof, later that day was a video of a parked security vehicle and a shirtless Igboho, accompanied by admirers and associates, marching along the express road. Why he pulled his shirt off, nobody could tell. But stories emerged later that it was his “African magic” at work. The way it worked that day, they said, was like “look me see another.” Meaning that the security agents were looking at Igboho, but were seeing somebody else.
This day, then, when they carried “war” to his Ibadan residence, his African magic was at work. Igboho inexplicably slipped through their fingers. He simply disappeared. How he escaped it, nobody knows. It was much like the story of Kanu’s escape from the onslaught of soldiers who laid siege on his father’s compound, and forced him to jump bail.
The security agents, who missed Igboho, have tried to explain his escape. He escaped, they said, on hearing the exchange of gunshots between them and Igboho’s guards. How, and why, they did not case the place before moving in is a story for another day.
But stories have since been circulating of how the rampaging security agents saw so many pussy cats in the compound and, having heard that Igboho could turn into anything, includ
ing pussy cats, it is reported, they allegedly went on a killing spree of the poor cats and, even arrested one. Being us, it is not surprising that nobody has produced the bodies of the dead pussycats, or shown us the arrested one. Nigerians! We can lie! And we can make a joke out of anything, no matter how serious.
However, Igboho’s African magic is a selfish one. Otherwise, how come its potency did not extend to his guards, or even his wife? They were arrested, and or killed. According to reports, one of his closest associates withstood the whole of 48 gunshots rained on him, but was, eventually, butchered with machetes. Sad their native doctor thought only of gunshots. Even then, the question I have been asking nobody, in particular, is: who stood there to count the number of gunshots since no bullet penetrated?
How, and from where did Igboho, suddenly, emerge to become the hurricane he is today? Unarguably, he is, in his category, the most influential Yoruba man alive today.
Until a few months ago, not many outside his environment knew him. Initially, he was described as a political thug. Some even called him a motor park tout. It was the sad era of the rogue Fulani herdsmen that brought him into national prominence. Like a hurricane, Igboho, suddenly, emerged as the number one defender of his race. He declared war on rogue herdsmen. He made it clear that he was not against every Fulani, or all herdsmen. His war of no return was against those who maim, and kill, and rape, and kidnap, and destroy farmlands. He was against those who brazenly claimed people’s ancestral land as theirs.
His war against them started in his community. He gave them seven days to leave, or he would flush them out of forests and farmlands and their residences. Igboho was ignored. They ignored him to their eternal
ha“But stories ve since been circulating of how the rampaging security agents saw so many pussy cats in the compound and, having heard that Igboho could turn into anything, including pussy cats, it is reported, they allegedly went on a killing spree of the poor cats and, even arrested one. Being us, it is not surprising that nobody has produced the bodies of the dead pussycats, or shown us the arrested one. Nigerians! We can lie! And we can make a joke out of anything, no matter how serious.
regret.
He carried out his threats. The day he moved against them, he was like a folk hero. He was received as such. He was their fearless hero. Igboho destroyed houses and sent herdsmen packing. Their leader, Seriki, barely escaped with his head on his neck. But not so his houses and cars. He has since relocated to Ilorin, to the anger of not a few of Igboho’s supporters. They say the Seriki is a murderer. A kidnapper. And more.
Having succeeded in his first outing, he took off from there, like a thunderbolt to other Southwest states in pursuit of rogue Fulani herdsmen. He became the real deal. The fearless warrior. And overshadowed Gani Adams.
Adams, you remember, is the officially crowned lead warrior of the Yoruba – the Are Ona Kakanfo. Not many still remember him as the boss. For the Yoruba defence and protection, Igboho and the Amotekun are the inthing. Adams and the OPC are fast becoming history.
At a point, Adams tried to re- assert himself. In an interview with a television station, he recounted when, and how he started. And his travails. But the vehicle has since moved. He needs to run to get on the bus again. Adams and the OPC need to repackage.
Igboho repackages everyday. From pursuing the rogue Herdsmen, he elevated himself to a freedom fighter, and Yoruba spokesman. He is the one, he says, who would wipe the tears off the eyes of the Yoruba. He has since added a couple of teeth to the fight for Oduduwa Republic – out of the Federal Republic of Nigeria. He became a secession fighter – in the mould of Kanu.
Differences though.
He is in Nigeria. He gets on with a good number of the Yoruba stakeholders, even the Governors, and the traditional rulers. He does not call them names. Nor curse them. He does not call them idiots, or fools, or “efulefu”, or worse. He does not say their mothers were impregnated by Fulani men. Or worse. Once, when Igboho spoke out of tune about the Ooni of Ife, he tendered a public apology.
Having elevated himself to the status of a freedom fighter, he began to talk like one. He began to mobilise people. He began to move from state to state. He acquired bodyguards. And Special Assistants, and Spokesman. The crowds followed him.
The defender of the people, he held rallies. The rallies were successful. He had support from not a few people, including the Yoruba in the Diaspora. Once, when a traditional ruler denied him entry into his palace, he reportedly jumped the wall.
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