- How to resolve farmers-herders conflict
From being an agriculturalist to a journalist, and later, civil servant, Ahmed Joda became famous when he was tagged a Super Permanent Secretary during Nigeria’s civil war, between 1966 and 1970. The retired permanent secretary, who now calls himself a farmer and herdsman, also served as the chairman of the transition committee that ushered in the President Muhammadu Buhari administration in 2015. As he turned 90, he spoke to Daily Trust on Sunday on why farmers-herders crisis has continued in Nigeria and how to resolve it, the alleged ‘Fulanisation agenda’ spearheaded by the Buhari administration and other important national issues.
You clocked 90 years recently, how do you feel?
I feel the same as when I was 80 and 70. As long as I can remember, I have followed the same routine: wake up early in the morning to do whatever I want to do for the day. When I am at home in Yola, I wake up at 5:30am, go to the farm, after which I will have my breakfast, lunch and rest. I also go back to the farm and come back at 6pm, then go to bed by 10pm. That is my routine.
Do you feel fulfilled in life?
I am not sure how to answer that question; I have heard it many times. I did not expect to reach this age because life expectancy in our country is not that high, but I am here and reasonably healthy. I live a fairly independent life; eat whatever I get and move around a lot. I am not constrained in anyway, and to that extent, I feel I have to thank God. When I reflect generally on the Nigeria in which I was born, the country has moved forward a lot and made some progress. I went to school here in Kaduna for my secondary education. It used to take me at least one week to travel from Yola to Kaduna. Now, it takes less than one day to do that journey. I have seen Nigeria grow.
When I went to school in what was Adamawa Province in 1939, there was only one elementary school in Yola and seven in the entire province, which was made up of what is today Taraba and Adamawa states. There are now at least five universities in that region. I do not know how many secondary schools there are, but there are primary and secondary schools in every village and town.
Then, there used to be one hospital, but we now have many hospitals with lots of doctors and nurses. Things have changed, but it is sad to say that the progress we have made is far below my expectations when I was a secondary school leaver or as a growing person in life.
I was a journalist once. I wrote critical articles and aggressive reports for newspapers and radio. I benefitted from those exploits because my sights were very high and my expectations modest. Those expectations have not been met. As an old man at 90, I feel that this country has a great potential and we have a role to play to change the direction we have perceived and try to make our country better, stronger, united and more purposeful than it is now.
How would you compare your childhood experiences in the 1930s, especially the quality of education then, and what is obtainable now?
In January 1939, I attended a primary school that had only four teachers and elementary one to four. The qualifications of my teachers were modest, but I knew that by the end of the six months I spent in that school, I was able to read and write. I could add, multiply and subtract as well. I knew a bit of the geographical history of my environment.
Unfortunately, I now meet people who have finished secondary education but cannot read and write properly. I think we have neglected education, especially, in northern Nigeria and among the so-called Hausa/Fulani. We must understand that this world is a world of education, science and technology; it is a human race we must join and participate in. I think we are not doing ourselves much good by the way we are living, and by refusing to educate our children. We rather produce and send them to the streets to beg for what they will eat, neglecting their character and learning.
I think it is the role of journalists to awaken the population of northern Nigeria on education.
You went into agriculture, then became a journalist, and later a civil servant, how were the transition periods for you?
After secondary education, I proceeded to an agricultural college in Ibadan, where I spent two and a half years. Eventually, I qualified as an agricultural assistant. Unfortunately, after about three years, I left the profession for journalism, where I worked for Gaskiya Corporation on its weekly newspaper, The Citizen. From there, I moved over to the University of Ibadan as the organising secretary of the Extramural Service in Northern Nigeria. I spent only one year there and I went to the United Kingdom to study journalism for two years. When I came back, I worked in a radio house before going to the civil service, where I became an administrative officer.
I worked in several ministries in the Northern Region and the Federal Government until I retired in 1978, which is about 42 years ago. Now, I am into full farming. I am a farmer and a herdsman. I have cattle, goats and sheep and spend all my life there.
As a Fulani man and farmer, what is your perception of farmers/herders clashes?
Since the beginning of time there has been the existence of farmers, hunters, cattle people, fishermen and so on. All these communities have lived together; cooperated with one another, supplemented the efforts of one another in order to have successful farming, animal rearing and so on. It happens that as far as cattle are concerned, it is mostly the Fulani or Bororo people that are engaged in fully rearing it, virtually to the exclusion of any other thing. When I was a child, I was a herdsman before I was in school. During my school life, I knew the two communities existed well together.
What happened that they have become enemies? One major thing I remember is that in the early 1950s, there was a census and the population of Nigeria was less than 40million people. Today, it is estimated that we are 200million people. This means that there are more millions of people who need to be fed, housed, and they need infrastructure like roads, industries and other facilities built, all on the same piece of land, which size cannot be increased.
The population of cattle is also growing, using the same land and resources. There are more farms, reducing the lands that are available for open grazing. But we have continued to use the same primitive method of farming and livestock keeping, so the land can no longer cope.
The Fulani herdsman that used to feel free, wake up in the morning, graze his cattle and go back to camp, and at the end of the rainy season, move to a land where the grass is greener, can no longer do so without going across somebody’s field. Remember that they will not own lands; it is the open land that they use. Thus, on their way to drink water or eat grass, the cattle will damage somebody’s crop or property.
What will a farmer with a destroyed farmland do? He will go to the police or court. When the police collect bribe from the Fulani to release him, then the farmer has no solution; rather, he goes back to his kinsmen to gather themselves to attack the herdsman, probably kill him in the process, or both communities fight one another, which will result in death. That is what is happening.
I happen to be the president of a non-governmental organisation that tries to mediate in the conflict between farmers and grazers and to bring about peaceful coexistence. More than 20 years ago, our organisation had drawn attention to every government, whether at the state or federal level, that a crisis was coming, and unless something was done, it would get out of control. No government paid attention to this warning. Even now that we are in the crisis, have you heard the National Assembly debate the crisis and propose solutions? Have you heard any governor, especially in northern Nigeria, where the problem is more acute, develop any plan to resolve the situation?
The only solution I can see is a purposeful development programme, which will be resolved in the total resettlement of all the cattle people, especially, designated development pasture areas that can contain them. Otherwise, we will be wasting our time.
How do you feel when you hear recurrent attacks blamed on Fulani men?
I feel it is bad and unnecessary when there is something that can be done to resolve the crisis, which has not been done.
How patriotic would you say the Nigerian journalists are today?
I do not think we ought to look at it as patriotism. I see the role of a journalist as that of an informer, educator and entertainer. These roles are very important to the wellbeing and welfare of the society in general. I trained as a journalist and accepted the principles of accurate and honest reporting and interpretation of events. I felt and still feel strongly that it is our duty to properly inform, as well as influence the thoughts and minds of the community. I do not think we are doing well enough, or that we have done our job well. We have a duty to be very cautious in spite of the existence of what we call the freedom of the press. But the way we disseminate and propagate opinions in features/articles and editorials in Nigeria have always tended to excite people in one way or another to create misunderstandings and divisiveness.
This country is very diverse in tribe, language and faith, but we share one common experience – British colonial concepts. When you live in the United Kingdom (UK), there are four distinct societies: the English, Scottish, Welsh and Irish people. They have different cultures, languages and other ways of life. These divergences exist and are recognised, but you do not see them in their journalism using the fault lines of religion and language to divide communities the way we do.
Today, we have security crises in the whole country, particularly in northern Nigeria. We have Boko Haram, the herders-farmers conflict, kidnapping, armed robbery, rape, breakdown of family values and so on. These are profiled against certain groups of different sectors of the society.
Let’s talk about Amotekun in the South-West. Thus far, the mode of operation of this security outfit has not been properly articulated. Are they a policing force established under six different laws? Is the commanding officer of this force at six different state levels under six different governors? How are they going to be recruited, get paid, equipped and exercise their duties? Will the Amotekun in Ibadan have authority to chase criminals beyond their state borders the way the police do? Are they going to bear arms? I think the first questions I will ask myself are: Why is the Nigeria Police Force so bad? Has it always been this bad?
I believe I was the first government official to write a memorandum in March 1966 to suggest that what used to be called the Native Authority Police in northern and western Nigeria be scrapped or merged with the Nigeria Police. At that time, I believed the Nigerian police were good while the Native Authority police were bad. I had a personal physical experience in western Nigeria in Ibadan and northern Nigeria in Zaria. They were dictatorial and could grab you because you were a member of the Northern Elements Progressive Union (NEPU), beat you up and take you to the Alkali Court to jail you for three months so as not to stand for election. They extorted money while the Nigerian police were clear, clean and efficient. My friends and I who wrote the memorandum wanted the Nigerian police to be the only force in Nigeria. Today, I do not like the shape of the Nigerian police. I am ashamed.
How did they become bad? First, a police force in any society must be professionally trained and motivated, well equipped, mobile, properly accommodated with good welfare packages. But they lack all of these things.
Their salaries are not paid regularly, while what they are paid cannot support their families. I cannot expect you to be good and efficient, as well as sacrifice your life when I cannot meet your basic elementary needs. A policeman with a wife and two children will like a life that is good for his family. On the other hand, he is asked to go and fight bandits and kidnappers with the mindset that he may either survive or die in action. He dies there knowing that the family he left behind will not receive his salary or gratuity in the next one month and will possibly be forgotten. If you do not resolve these issues, you are adding more criminals to the community. We need to be reasonable.
How do you think we can rise above sectionalism in journalism, 60 years after the country’s independence?
I really don’t know. You are in the media yourself, how do you see the other man that is not from your religion or tribe? You are sufficiently educated to know that all these are God’s creation, and that in the case of Nigeria, he created us the way we are. Knowing that we are diverse, God intended that we live together.
I am a Fulani herdsman, but I cannot exist on only milk and meat of the cows, I need tomatoes, and Fulani men hardly grow tomatoes, maize or yams and other things. There are different people who grow these things. And when you go to the market you find that there are all sorts of people that bring all sorts of things, and you realise our interdependence.
I think both Islam and Christianity have a virtually common code of conduct that regulates the way we must live together and relate with one another. When you go to the mosque or church you will find all sorts of people; you congregate, worship your God and disperse. Go to the market, it is the same kind of situation, even in schools. The media should reflect these things, identify what are the interests of the society and determine how to perform their role in such a way that these diverse communities are integrated and can work together.
I was reading a very annoying article on WhatsApp and I was very upset. The article was by a well educated person and he was talking about ‘the Fulanisation agenda of the Buhari government. Whatever criticism I have of Buhari, I cannot possibly think that he has or can have a Fulanisation agenda for a society like Nigeria. And the Fulani we are talking about are the people who have the most almajirci children walking around the streets of northern Nigeria, just to look for what they will eat for the day. Their parents don’t know how they spend their time and who they associate with, and perhaps, don’t even care to know.
Nigerians have expressed disappointment at some policies of the present administration, especially the spate of insecurity across the country and the presumed deaf ears of the presidency concerning the removal of service chiefs; what’s your advice?
I have access to President Buhari, so I would like to directly express my feelings and interpretation of the situation to him. These are sensitive issues and not what we can discuss on the pages of newspapers.
You became famous in the civil service and was nicknamed Super Permanent Secretary, how did that happen?
It was something the public, perhaps the press, invented and promoted. I found myself at the beginning of the Nigerian civil war to be the permanent secretary in the Federal Ministry of Information. It was a time Nigeria was going through bad press around the world and I was new to the situation. When I arrived in Lagos and took my position, I inherited all the good and the bad. I had no experience of how to deal with it, especially the international press. I was quite familiar with the Nigerian media, but in trying to get used to the job, I found a group of very tough civil servants, among them permanent secretaries who were willing to be involved and who offered their help, and together we devised strategies and travelled around the world. But in this group of more than 10 people, only a few would normally be identified. It happened to be only three or four of us. And because we were seen at public events in Rivers, Borno and Sokoto states and wherever important public occasions were taking place, we were exposed to the press more than our fair share. I think those clichés just happened.
It wasn’t because we were better than anybody else, it happened that at that particular point in time, we had the opportunity to be in front, to be seen and heard. But I can tell you that there were people whose names nobody ever heard, who were doing the donkey work. For instance, we had a civil war and there was no oil money because the South-East and South-South were totally cut off from Nigeria. Trade was diminished and income was low, but there were people who were working. Nobody complained throughout that civil war that civil servants were not paid their salaries as at when due. Services were not reduced and some development programmes were taking place. Also, schools and hospitals were built. How did they manage it?
Chief Awolowo was the minister of finance and Dr. Abdulaziz Attahiru, for the most part, was a permanent secretary. Everybody knew the name of Awolowo, not because of the job he was doing during the war but because of his political activities when he was the premier of the Western Region. You may be hearing the name, Abdulaziz Attahiru for the first time, but these men made it possible for the army that grew from less than 10,000 to 300,000, and the police that rose from 300,000 to 400,000, and the civil service that was maintained. And hospitals, transportation system and all these things were going on. But today, in spite of oil money, people are not paid salaries, road constructions and bridges are virtually at a standstill. What has happened?
Many people say the northern part of the country is regressing because the political class deviated from the visions of the founding fathers. What is your take on this, given your experiences?
It is a very complex question. In the First Republic, when we became independent we had leaders who were home grown, people who rose from the bottom and gradually to the top and had learned how to manage people and scarce resources to achieve certain goals, and to agree to be bound by rules and regulations. Politics was a responsibility they accepted with the background of service to the public and the development of the society.
For Northern Region, people like Sardauna of Sokoto, Sir Kashim Ibrahim, Dan Mahmudu Ribadu, Isa Kaita, Peter Achimogu, were men who spoke and understood the same language as political leaders. For us who happened to be rising, serving and learning from them, we saw them as being put there by God, so we accepted them as our natural leaders. I think, for the most part, it was the same thing for the Western Region.
The Eastern Region developed in a different way, but if you call the name of Zik, all of them woke up and found him preaching the gospel, and they accepted him. The sad thing was that the military intervention of January 15, 1966 changed all that. Men whose names we never heard of, who did not expect to be in leadership positions, suddenly saw power and took up positions. I think that had an effect on the minds of the general public, to think that anybody could be a leader, provided he could command the radio and had a gun.
I think that was the beginning of the problems we are suffering today. However, we were even lucky because the small army that took power on January 15 and July 29, 1966 were well trained. They were very efficient and very professional. They understood the needs of government and had to learn to assume the higher responsibility of political leadership. And they were fortunate that they had mature people in the civil service to support them.
What we lack now is the quality of mind by training, discipline and experience. To a large extent, I think we must blame the press. We have tended to give the impression that once you are elected into power, it is so absolute that you can do whatever you want to do and it is for you and your political party alone. We forget that the government is a continuum; you can’t break it at one point. Even in the same party, we have governors or presidents who think it’s by their powers that they won elections. They think that if a road is being built between Zaria and Kajuru, for example, they can stop it and build it wherever they want. Money, time and energy had been spent to build a road halfway and you stop it? Or you postponed the building of a school or hospital? So you find yourself in a complete standstill, making no progress. We have to understand that there is a commitment. The contract is not only with the contractors but the country, the society. If you start a road between here and Jos, you must complete it, no matter who started it. If you are building an airport you cannot stop it. And if you have an education programme, you should understand that it took years to plan it, so you can modify it. You can introduce new changes and bring new polices.
How many of your contemporaries are still alive and how often do you relate with them?
I was recently in Abeokuta and there were at least four or five of my contemporaries from different parts of the country who were at a dinner party by our level of permanent secretaries. There were some others who were directors or secretaries, or junior officials who are now all retired. So there are some of us, but certainly not the number we had. I had the likes of Asiodu, one of the so-called super permanent secretaries, and Mrs. Franka Emmanuel, John Oyegun – these are people who found their way there.
What is the secret of your good living?
There is no secret. As a Muslim, you have heard of Al-Lauh Al-Mafuz, that everything about everybody is written and everyone of us follows that. So I was born the way I was born and it was written that I was to grow up to be more than 90 and that I will go to school in a society that hardly anybody went to school, that I managed to go through the various stages of education, various career positions and to remain where I am. I had no reason to expect to survive to be more than 37, which is the age my parents talked about as the longevity of life in our society. But I am here.
How do you relax?
I wake up at 5:30 in the morning, say my prayers, go to the farm, walk around and see things, spend about three hours and come back, take my bath and have my breakfast and go out to do whatever needs to be done. I have a laptop where I write what I think, what I hear, want to do and get around with people. I have lunch, sleep for two hours, go back to the farm, come back, work on my computer and go to bed. I don’t play any game, but I live an active life.
What would you want to be remembered for?
The way I am, the way I have been, the way people have accepted me. I don’t think I have done anything outstanding than most people have, it happens that it has received more public recognition than for most people.
Any regret in life?
I don’t think there is anyone who can be 90 and say he has never done things he should not have done. I think I’ve had my ups and downs, but I survived them without much stress.
What message do you have for the youth, northerners and the country in general?
We must recognise that we are very negligent in our approach and attention to education. We must understand that we have no other place on earth. We must change our attitudes and give maximum attention to quality education. Go to Lagos and see what is happening. It is a society that is changing in the direction the rest of the world is changing. Even the way people behave, receive and treat one another is changing in Lagos.
In northern Nigeria, among the Muslim Hausa community, it is not changing. I mean, you don’t need to interfere with the development of the youths of northern Nigeria. We need to guard it, allow them to have full access to education, allow them to be part of this new and changing world and allow them to express themselves and encourage and assist them to do so. We all have that responsibility as parents, journalists and administrators. Unless we do that, we are absolutely not going anywhere.
