ITS WORTH READING: Sunday relaxation Why my father was called - TopicsExpress



          

ITS WORTH READING: Sunday relaxation Why my father was called ‘enough is enough’ — Ukpabi Asika’s son by ARUKAINO UMUKORO In this interview with ARUKAINO UMUKORO, Obi, son of Ukpabi Asika, who was an administrator of East-Central State, speaks about his father’s life How was it like growing up as the only son of your father? There was no pressure being the first born or the only son of my father. I have two younger sisters, but we were always together. We were always treated the same way. I don’t think there was any pressure. They tell you that you’re the man of the house and all that to show you that it means that much. It’s just that when you grow older as a man, you begin to understand better the legacy of your father. You know, in life, you try to do your best on your own and hope that it is enough. Your father was appointed administrator of the East-Central State at the start of the Biafra civil war… He was. But he was much more than that. That was the public representation. He was not a politician and did not seek the position. He was a university lecturer at the University of Ibadan with a doctorate degree. He was a complete radical, a bit of a Marxist actually. He came back from the University of California Los Angeles with my mother, who then went off to Nairobi and Dar es Salaam where she was an associate senior lecturer for six months. She returned before my father did. Within three months of his arrival, the first coup in Nigeria had happened. There were many Ibos who were not in support of the Biafra war. He never supported it. And he believed that there were other ways for the Ibos to resolve their issues within the context of Nigeria. My father was someone who stuck to his beliefs. How would you describe your childhood days? My parents were academic scholars. My mum, who was once special adviser to President Olusegun Obasanjo on NEPAD, had her first degree on an academic scholarship. Her masters in UCLA was also on an academic scholarship She met my father at the institution. They had a great relationship. At home, you find them discussing politics, literature, romance, music, theology, philosophy, and many other topics all day and night. So our house had a very liberal arts kind of background, a lot of reading. We had to read about 20 books every time we were on holiday, between me and my sisters. Sometimes, these were books that had nothing to do with school; my dad just wanted you to read widely and better understand life and culture. He was born in Barkin Ladi, Jos. My grandfather was born in Zungeru. My grandmother’s father married his wife from Yola in the 1890s and moved to Onitsha. So I had people in my family who spoke Fulfude, till today. So for us, it has always been about Nigeria. That’s the abiding influence. It came directly from my parents. Even as kids, we flew Nigeria Airways whenever we travelled out of the country. My father rejected a British passport for me five times. In the last 50 years, my parents have collected over 4,000 pieces of Nigerian art and antiquities. Now they have great value. My sense of culture and people came from my parents. We respect and embrace other cultures. I’m definitely proudly Ibo, but I’m Nigerian. What were some of the major things your dad told you about the civil war? I was too young at the time. But the names he gave me had a reflection of his love for the country. My first name is Obodoechina, which means my country will not die, or my country is Nigeria. So in my name, I carry Nigeria. I think that says it all. He named me with the belief that his country would survive. I’m still alive, Nigeria is still alive. We are still surviving. What was his reaction to the creation of many states rather the regional system we had before? He didn’t feel that there was a basis for state creation at the time. And I think he has probably been proven right. If you look at Nigeria today, out of the 36 states, maybe less than half are economically viable. The politics of regional representation is more important than the politics of viability. And it is an emotional issue that does not have much to do with perhaps the hard logic of economics, which is different from the emotional representation. I think that was his view. That’s why I said he was not a politician. If he was a politician, he may have said okay, technically and economically, we cannot do this, but politically we have to do it. I learnt from my father that leadership is not about popularity, but about responsibility; doing what is most important for the people. Sometimes, that could make you look very unpopular in the short term, but in the long term, it is what your people need. In a lot of instances, this is what should have happened in Nigeria. Do you regret not being an academia like your father? Before he died, my father had told me that he was extremely proud of what I was doing. The truth of the matter is that my father is a proponent of the creative arts industry. And like him, I believe that the highest form of life is given by intellectual property and that is expressed through music, fashion, literature, poetry, film, sports, entertainment, technology and software. It doesn’t diminish what others do in other sectors. But Nigerians are beginning to better express their brand identity. I’m glad to be part of the process of unlocking the future of this country. The Plateau is endless. I’m also an academia. I have over 500 books in my library. I still read every day. What are some of the fond memories you have of your father? There are so many. My father was fond of languages. I remember him telling me about classic accounts of himself and the late Nnamdi Azikiwe arguing over Onitsha market, which I thought was hysterical. His nickname when he used to play football for Edo College was ‘axe no dey fear wood’, because he was a central defender. On my 28th birthday, my dad wrote me a letter, in which he talked about the history surrounding my birth and how proud he was of me. He wrote, addressing me as Ojinnika, my Ozor title, which literally means sitting on the right hand of the king. He wrote “…On the 28th anniversary of your birth, I bring you greetings and congratulate you for the son you are, for the man you have become and will be. I wish you a happy birthday, with glory, admiration, tremendous respect and confident love… Ukpabi Asika, issued on behalf of the China Asika fan club…” I’m also called ‘China’ from the name Obodoechina. So sometimes my father and his friends used to call me ‘China’. What was his view about the Biafra war and the perceived marginalisation of the Ibos? From the day he was born to the day he died, he remained a Nigerian. As he said himself, I was born a Nigerian. I have lived my life a Nigerian and I have no doubt that I would die a Nigerian. This was something like his life creed. That was his view. He was born in Barkin Ladi and did not get to the East until he was seven years old. Former Minister of Petroleum, Philip Asiodu, told me that the accident of geography cannot determine a man’s fate. Actually, at that time, the Ibos were dominating in the civil service, academics and the army. Biafra was a sensitive issue. But my father had respect for everybody and their opinions. He had the responsibility of leadership, and his responsibility was to bring the Ibos back into Nigeria. That was his job. In his first cabinet made up of 14 people, he took 12 out of jail straight to the government house. It had never happened before. As far as I’m concerned, my father put his life on the line for this country. As far as he was concerned, he was called to serve and rescue a disintegrating nation. And he did his job. What do you think was his greatest disappointment? It would be that Nigeria has not yet fulfilled its capacity, because Nigeria has an incredible capacity to be a great nation. But we have growing pains, challenges and issues. That’s why we have to tell our stories to give us a better understanding of ourselves and respect for each other. I learnt from my father and mother how to better understand the sheer depth, breadth, variety of our culture, literature, arts, artefacts and craft, traditional and contemporary fashion and music, and our ability to keep going in the midst of difficulty. From what I know now, when I look back, I realise that my father had every right to be upset about a bunch of things. If he was a bitter man or in any way negative, I don’t think my sisters and I would have been so Nigerian-centric or be in Nigeria. We would probably be abroad somewhere, living in that kind of denial. But we are here; we love our country, despite the challenges. That is what my father and mother gave me, the abiding love for my country. Who were his closest friends? My father had great friends all over this country. He had friends everywhere, where respect was based on knowledge, not material acquisition. He had friend such as Ahmed Joda, M.D. Yusufu; Gen. Theophilus Danjuma, Uche Chukwumerije, Professor Okoh; his boss, Gen. Yakubu Gowon and many more. How would you describe him? He was a man of sartorial elegance, academics, good looking, totally balanced with his wife and not in any way insecure. My father was nicknamed Enough is Enough, because that was the title of a speech that was broadcast everyday way back then. That was his mantra in those days. He wrote 12 books. He loved football and enjoyed watching Brazil and Nigeria play. I used to joke with him and ask if he really did play football in his school days like he said. Then he would reply that he was captain of the year for his school team at Edo College and nine out of their 11 played for Nigeria teams. That, he would say, should tell me whether he really could play football or not. He had a mischievous sense of humour, he had a rapier, sharp mind, was widely read and definitely the most intelligent person I have ever met, and that is saying something. When did your father get married? He got married twice. His first wife was an American and she is still alive. I’m in touch with her. He married her in 1961 and they were separated by divorce in 1963, the same year he met my mother. They got married in 1965 in Oakland, US. My mother had a car but my father did not have one and he didn’t know how to drive. So it was my mother who drove them to the registry. I think she paid for the wedding. Then they came back to Nigeria and her father insisted that they did the wedding at home gain. He took his friends and they drove from Ibadan to the East in early 1966 for the wedding. Some of his groom’s men were Adamu Ciroma and Jubril Aminu. My parents were together until he died in 2004. Would you say he was more of an academic or a politician? He was never a politician. The only thing he cared about was Nigeria. He was an academic, an intellectual, administrator and a statesman. What is your father’s legacy? His legacies are all over Nigeria but I am not sure they are appreciated. When you live your life and do what is right, you don’t do it for the applause. But I believe that as a man, an Ibo man and a Nigeria, he did the best that he could do for his people and his country with the opportunities he was given. Source: APGA & NIGERIA STORIES
Posted on: Sun, 09 Jun 2013 16:08:00 +0000

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