REMEMBERING A STERLING COMRADE

Amina Salihu pays tribute to Abubakar Momoh, former Director General of the Electoral Institute

Quiet but deep and assertive, he was to me a comrade, and senior colleague. I did not get to see him on a regular basis; we saw maybe on the average once a year. Yet we could greet like we conversed every day. It was that kind of easy going relationship, forged by moments of solidarity and collaboration among a small band of fellow travellers. That easy-going, non-pressured friendship is golden for an activist movement; an amazing store of value which we do not always acknowledge but just take for granted: assume that it is there.

That gold gave me the currency to call Professor Abubakar Momoh - the Wednesday before he passed away - while I was right at the gate of the Electoral Institute where he was Director General. I said to him: ‘Mallam (teacher or mentor in Hausa), your people say they don’t know us o!’ He had previously offered to host the 8th Tajudeen Abdulraheem Memorial event. I had not spoken with him since a meeting in 2015 to plan a conference to be organised by the Institute for Legislative Studies (NILS), yet he picked my call. He, thereupon, spoke with the security guard who then let us in. Little did I know that I was speaking with him for the last time on this side of heaven; and that a few short weeks after that conversation, we would be planning his own memorial event.

A meticulous academic, when it came to work, Professor Abubakar Momoh was all seriousness

when it came to attention for detail. He once invited me to be part of a research collaboration on ‘’Democracy and Socio-economic issues in Nigeria” funded by the Friedrich Ebert Stiftung (FES). The process began with a workshop that was meant to culminate in an edited volume but later into a lull. After several years, Mallam Abu revived the project and then began the back and forth on narrative corroboration, synergy and appropriate referencing style. I learnt a lot from that process but teased him too as I said to him ‘Mallam Abu so, this our book will finally get published!.’ He took his time in his calm, inimitable way, to narrate the causes of the delay and his effort to move things forward. He had, moreover, been ill in between, and was out of the country.

Once, when he won a prize from one of the banks we said to him ‘comrade bring our share o, now you are officially a bourgeois’! He said, ‘’these people who splashed my photo all over the front pages of newspapers will get me into trouble.. you see, it is not like that. It is not serious money, believe me’’. He took the matter so seriously, even though it was hilarious to us.

A forthright person, I remember vividly his frustration with me over my inability to finish my PhD

work. He gave me a tongue lashing every time we talked. As my senior comrade, he had the right to expect more from me. Whenever we met, PhD was the agendum such that I was quick to say before he would broach the subject, ‘Mallam Abu I am working on it’. One day he said to me while waving a folded newspaper for emphasis: ‘Amina, I know you will never get this PhD because now you are earning dollars (referring to my consultancy work)’. I said, ‘Mallam, which dollars? It’s not money that is holding me back o, No one pays me dollars anyway’. He said with a mock smile; ‘you see, you- have- to - choose- either- the -money -or -a –PhD. You- can’t- do-both - you – know’: all the while waving the newspaper to stress his point. That was his final word on the subject: a verdict delivered with a typical Mallam Abu élan. That in essence was our conversation - as paraphrased here - and did it rankle! Suffice to say, I eventually finished my thesis; perhaps to prove that it was possible, and perfectly legal, to strive for both gold and glory!

Mallam Abu has been a part of my social family for as long as I can remember; from when he was as a member of my Governing Board of the Centre for Democracy and Development (CDD) while I was a programme officer, and even before. He remains my senior comrade and a brother. A stellar academic, Mallam Abu treated you like an equal; looked you in the eye and pressured you to understand his viewpoint and to engage as he ‘complexified’ the issue - one of his favourite phrases. His is an unripe funeral but when the time is up there is nothing one can do. What matters is that he goes with the glory of his good deeds, one of which is the hundreds of individuals whose school fees he paid; an incredible testimony that doing good does not depend on a big cache of money but on a big heart.

I will miss his how now? as he asks after your wellbeing, with a pidgin slant. I will miss his golden tiger eyes and slight, kind smile. Goodbye Mallam Abubakar. May Allah grant your generous soul aljannatul firdaus; and sustain the family.

HE GOES WITH THE GLORY OF HIS GOOD DEEDS, ONE OF WHICH IS THE HUNDREDS OF INDIVIDUALS WHOSE SCHOOL FEES HE PAID; AN INCREDIBLE TESTIMONY THAT DOING GOOD DOES NOT DEPEND ON A BIG CACHE OF MONEY BUT ON A BIG HEART