*BY INNOCENT ONYEUKWU*
IBB’s recently released book has been described as a compendium of Nigeria’s history, a detailed account of major moments in the nation’s journey.
Yet, despite its purported historical significance, I find myself unwilling to read it. The book comes far too late, offering insights and revelations that seem to serve only one purpose: rewriting history to suit the author’s legacy.
A critical flaw in IBB’s book is its timing. Decades have passed since the events of June 12, 1993, and many key figures involved in those historic moments are no longer alive to provide their perspectives.
People like Sani Abacha and Moshood Abiola, whose roles and fates are central to Nigeria’s political history, cannot confirm or refute the claims made in the book. The absence of their voices leaves a significant gap in any attempt to reconstruct the truth.
IBB’s decision to release his version of events after 32 years sets a troubling precedent.It suggests that leaders can make decisions with far-reaching consequences, evade accountability, and later narrate history on their own terms. This dangerous pattern undermines the principles of transparency and responsibility that every leader should uphold while in office.
The message this sends is deeply unsettling: leaders can do whatever they like while in power, wait decades for the dust to settle, and then reveal their version of the truth when the voices of opposition are silent. This practice not only disrespects those who suffered the consequences of poor leadership but also erodes trust in the nation’s historical narrative.
Leaders must be held accountable for their actions, and this accountability must come during or shortly after their tenure, not decades later. By delaying such important revelations, IBB has effectively escaped scrutiny and, worse, received applause for finally addressing issues he should have confronted head-on years ago. This sets a standard that could easily be abused by future leaders.
Imagine a scenario in which Bola Tinubu, years after leaving office, suddenly claims that Peter Obi won the 2023 presidential election. Such a revelation, coming years after it mattered most, would only compound the distrust and disillusionment already plaguing Nigeria’s political system. The truth, when delayed, loses its power to heal, inform, or hold people accountable.
By sweeping critical truths under the carpet and owning up to them long after their relevance, IBB’s actions cast a shadow over our collective history. His book, instead of being a tool for reconciliation and understanding, feels like an attempt to absolve himself of responsibility. This pattern reflects poorly on us as a nation, indicating that we have normalized impunity at the highest levels of leadership.
IBB’s tenure undeniably re-engineered Nigeria, but it also laid the foundation for many of the economic challenges the country faces today. From the structural adjustment policies to the annulment of the June 12 election, his administration’s decisions have left a lasting impact. Yet, his book lacks the remorse or atonement one might expect from someone seeking to confront his past mistakes honestly.
Even his admission that Moshood Abiola won the June 12 presidential election comes across as hollow. It feels less like an effort to right a wrong and more like a carefully timed revelation meant to rehabilitate his public image.
Without genuine accountability or efforts to address the damage done, such admissions do little to inspire confidence in the sincerity of his narrative.
For a country still reeling from the consequences of his leadership, IBB’s book appears tone-deaf. It offers no concrete solutions, no genuine reflection on his administration’s failures, and no clear path toward reconciliation. Instead, it reads like an exercise in self-promotion, an attempt to shape his legacy while ignoring the voices of those his policies affected most.
As Nigerians, we must demand more from our leaders, past and present. The practice of rewriting history to suit personal legacies must be rejected.
Our nation’s progress depends on the courage to confront the truth, no matter how uncomfortable it may be. Leaders must be willing to face criticism and accountability while their actions are still fresh in the public’s memory.
IBB’s book might be a valuable historical artifact, but it fails to address the deeper issues plaguing Nigeria. It sidesteps the hard questions and instead offers a sanitized version of events that absolves him of responsibility. Reading it feels like endorsing a culture of delayed accountability, something our nation can ill afford.
In refusing to read IBB’s book, I am taking a stand for accountability, transparency, and the need to confront our history with honesty and urgency. I am rejecting the idea that leaders can rewrite the past on their own terms, decades after the fact. Nigeria deserves better, and its people deserve the truth when it matters most.
History must be told by those who lived it, not just those who survived to write about it. Let us insist on a standard of leadership that values integrity, responsibility, and a commitment to the truth. Until then, I will not read IBB’s book—and I urge others to reflect on why such delayed revelations do more harm than good.