June 12: Bitter Memoir Of A Journalist

By Adewale Adeoye

Let’s move from mystery, then to facts. Dr Bunmi Aborisade’s dream, in the late 1980s was to hold a Phd. He wanted to read abroad, but he was poor, being the product of a peasant background.

A native of Ado Ekiti, Bunmi, who now lives in the US today, holds a Phd, courtesy of a certain miraculous incidence that took place during the June 12 struggle, at the once cacophonic Oshodi, where millions of haggling market women and women, cobblers and armed gangs alike took as home. Oshodi was a legendary red light district, an awful rendezvous for crime, drugs and even street sex. In 1996, after the annulment of the June 12 election, Bunmi set up a newspaper called June 12, an underground Tabloid that had its newsroom at bus stops and rowdy market places. Since 1993, the military regime of General Ibrahim Babangida, had listed the "June 12" publishers as some of the most dangerous enemies of the state. In 1993, I was at The Guardian Newspaper as a Senior Reporter. One sunny day in 1996, Bunmi set out in search of news.

Bunmi Aborisade

He had a small portfolio, a pen and a midget. After the day’s work, Bunmi was returning home and had to pass through the then hell of a crowd, called Oshodi. Amidst the crowd, an agent of the military, who was in mufti, walked up to him and grabbed his neck. What do you have in your bag? "Nothing", an emanciated Bunmi said. The young officer of the Directorate of Military Intelligence (DMI) seized his bag. Bunmi had an article titled "How to Actualise June 12." You know what? The DMI agent dragged Bunmi to a muddy corner in Oshodi where the officer read the piece, from the introduction to the last full stop on the article. The last statement read "Nigerians must harness the resources at their disposal to actualise June 12." The officer shouted "yes, I’ve got you. You bombed the military cantonment last week.’’

The incidence was a week after the bomb explosion that rocked Ikeja Cantonment. Bunmi’s denial was unto deaf ears. Like play like play¸ Bunmi ended up at the SSS office from where he was transferred to the DMI underground cell. The news of his arrest did not filter out until weeks later. He spent one month in solitary confinement, but his abductors did not raise the issue of June 12 newspaper. Perhaps, they were so daft or too desperate to see the link between his name and that on the mast head of the June 12 newspaper. On the day he was released, Bunmi came to The Guardian. Earlier, The Guardian had emerged as one of the most detested newspapers by the military junta, owing to the uncompromising pro-democracy credentials of the newspaper.

I remember, as if it was yesterday, the "order" we usually get from Ima Niboro, now the spokesperson of President Goodluck Jonathan that all reporters must "defend democracy and use the pen to harass the junta." He, like most journalists suspected to be wanted, lived an evasive life. He usually anchored the pro-people but caustic cover stories of The African Guardian.

He would sneak out on Fridays and disappeared until Tuesdays when he would have gauged the response of the military to the Monday outings. He was a Senior Editor with The African Guardian. The Guardian was a victim in many ways. Apart from the fact that the newspaper was closed down, till date, I continue to wonder how Prince, the Private Secretary of late Chief Andy Akporugo disappeared. Another journalist, Chinedu Offoaro also disappeared.

Not too long, The Guardian was closed down and reopened in 1996, after more than one agonizing year. After the reopening of The Guardian, the weekly magazine was rested and I was seconded to The Sunday Guardian as Correspondent. So, after his release from DMI cell, Bunmi walked in briskly to the newsroom, a dry smile on his face. He came at a time I was looking for Kaleidoscope, the usually aromatic Sunday human interest story, supervised keenly by the Editor on Sunday, Kingsley Osadolor. I got a scoop. Bunmi narrated his ordeal in detention.

The most "interesting" of Bunmi’s stories was his revelation that hundreds of Nigerians that had being detained secretly at DMI, including, but not limited to foreigners and even children. He revealed the fact that one Yoruba Colonel, an aide of General Oladipo Diya was being held in secret. Another Major Nya was being held for attending the birthday party of the daughter of the US military attaché. I was excited. Every journalist is usually excited by bad, horrifying news. My report came out on Sunday. Innocently, I added in my story that the newly released Bunmi was also the publisher of June 12. Hah, so a dangerous "animal’ had been caught and unconsciously let loose again? On Monday, five armed soldiers visited The Guardian. Their mission: pick the author of the piece and let him fish out Bunmi. On Tuesday, June 4, 1996, I was invited to the office of the most dreaded figure in DMI, Col Frank Omenka, a tall, lanky but strongly-built fellow. The first thing he did was to a wage psychological war on me. I was kept in his office for eight hours; no one spoke to me, except that huge ball of cigarette smoke was unleashed on me for the period. I greeted them, no one answered me. Around 11 pm, I was dragged into Omenka’s office. "Who is this rat?" He quipped.

Before I could say anything, he shut about ten other questions at me. "Did you go to school? Who is your father? Did you know Freedom Radio? Did you know Tinubu? Did you know Fayemi? Are you on the payroll of NADECO?" Later, he said he was in the Church when Abacha’s CSO, Major Hamza Mustapha called him concerning my write-up and asked him to get me at all cost. ‘So that rat is the June 12 publisher? You will go and find him for us or I will kill you." Before I could utter a word, he ordered one Captain Idowu to go and "shoot him and throw his carcass away unless he tells us where that June 12 publisher is." Captain Idowu collected all information about me: home address, schools attended including primary school, eating habit, role models, the books I liked most, clubs I belonged to at the University etc. I gave wrong information all through. I said in school, I belonged to "Deeper Life" instead of Marxist Youth Movement.

The home address, I gave the NUJ office at Adeola, Somolu, instead of my real house. I said my best book was the Holy Bible, even though at the time, it was not. I said my hero was General Philip Effiong. He said why? I told him because he helped to end the Biafra war and that I hated wars. But in my mind, I would not mind a bitter war to end Abacha’s brutal regime. My heart started beating when Omenka later ordered Idowu to follow me to my house and search the place. Ironically, my house was the meeting point of many of the wanted activists: Chima Ubani, Innocent Chukwuma, Debo Adeniran, Douglas Oronto (now a Special Adviser to President Goodluck Jonathan), leaders of Ijaw Youth Movement like Dr Felix Tuodolo, Isaac Osuaka and at a time, Dr Owens Saro Wiwa used to visit. Earlier in November 1993, I had been arrested alongside late Dr Beko Ransome Kuti, Tokunbo Afikuyomi, Chima Ubani amongst many others. The late Chief Gani Fawehinmi was our "cook".

Everyday, he would personally bring our food until we were released. The detention was an eye opener regarding the cruelty of the then military state. Each night, we would hear gun shots. Shriek. Silence. Inmates would shout: "Another one has travelled." People were being eliminated secretly.

I later joined The Punch Newspapers, one of the loudest voices against military rule as Assistant News Editor in 1996. During this era, I remember Oronto was particularly notorious for his skill in decoy. He had several identity cards, bearing different names. He had complimentary cards with the name Ayodele Yagba. At one time, he perched with a top SSS official after the latter’s junior brother and pro-democracy activist had introduced Oronto as a "top Yoruba fisherman based in Ghana." He would stay indoors all day and always, even while on bed and in the night, he wore his face-cap. Oronto speaks Yoruba fluently.

He has strong Abeokuta accent. One day, the SSS raided his location at Victoria Island, but at that time, Oronto was granting an interview to subterranean press men at a bukateria in Central Lagos. When the news reached him, he hurriedly packed his small bag and left Lagos around midnight for Cotonou. Back to Bunmi, the DMI released me around 2am with the promise that I must show my face everyday until I was able to locate Bunmi, whom I had denied ever knowing but that I met him for the first time during my interview with him. I got home around 3am, trekking from Oshodi to my home. Alas, when I got home, Bunmi and about eight wanted activists were "littered" on the floor in my house. One US embassy contact later searched for Bunmi and assisted his relocation to Ghana. A year later, Bunmi was responsible for hosting another most wanted anti-Abacha rebel leader, Professor Ade Banjo, who had used his entire savings to import over 3000 rifles with the sole aim of launching a guerilla war to overthrow General Sanni Abacha. He was caught in Cotonu and later served one year in jail with his wife, Ngozi.

On the day of his release by the court, Abacha’s agents were waiting to kidnap him. Through the help of a journalist, Moshood Feyemiwo, publisher of the rested pro-June 12 guerilla tabloid, Razor, Prof Banjo escaped to Ghana. But Fayemiwo was unlucky. He was abducted and taken to DMI cell, where he was hanged, his head upturned, for years. When I visited Ghana in late 1996, Prof Banjo was hiding in Bunmi’s pony apartment.

He told me how Abacha had sent armed groups to abduct him in Ghana, but that President Jerry Rawlings and Uganda’s leader, Yoweri Museveni were his saving grace. Prof Banjo was Museveni’s University mate. Years later, Bunmi was assisted by the US embassy staff to escape to the US. He was able begin his Masters and later his Phd, which he bagged last year. What a tragic twist in the June 12 struggle.

--Adeoye is a media aide to Governor Kayode Fayemi of Ekiti State
 

Culled from the Nation newspapers, Lagos