“If you hope to live a few years, buy shares. If for thirty years; plant a tree. If forever, write a book” – Japanese words of wisdom.

To this I would like to add: “or have a book written about you.” One of the tragedies of African history can be traced to the fact that we have not written enough of our own history. What most Yoruba people who have bothered to read their own history know about it was provided by Samuel Johnson, who was born in 1846 outside Nigeria and died on April 29, 1901 in Lagos.

He was said to be the great-grandson of Alaafin of Oyo, Oba Abiodun, a powerful Yoruba king of the Oyo Empire. That effort, though now known to be flawed in many respects, saved the Yoruba from relying totally on foreigners to tell us what happened in the past. Certainly, Nigerians are still not writing their own stories; we are still not documenting what our leaders did.

PERSONALITIES MAKE HISTORY

“It is personalities, not principles, that move the age” – Oscar Wilde,1854-1900.

Except for great natural disasters, which seldom occur, human history, everywhere and place, had been shaped by human actors – whose influence on their era might even have gone unnoticed by their fellow citizens while they were alive. One such personality in contemporary Nigeria is Obong Victor Attah.

When I embarked on writing the book – ATTAH: ARCHITECT OF A NEW DEMOCRATIC DAWN – thirteen years ago, it was not intended to last that long. At any rate, I was testing fate. Coming from a family in which no male child had lived to 60, I was starting a book, destined to take at least four years to complete. That audacity of hope reminded me of a statement by a great golfer, Lee Trevino, who said, “Pressure is having five dollars in your pocket and taking a ten dollar bet.” I was not even sure of living for one more year. The book, apart from being my latest, not the last, was like an elixir providing life and vigour as time went on.

This is not the time to dwell on why a GUINNESS BOOK OF RECORD might have been broken in the process of writing this biography; but, to me, it is a clear testimony to the continuing relevance and greatness of the subject of the book. Were there occasions when the project was almost abandoned? Surely. I manage a small consultancy unit based on research and writing. The idea was conceived long before my retirement. Based on the belief that “he who rests rots”, it was not my intention to spend the rest of my days waking up late, eating slowly, reading newspapers and resting all day. Writing two columns for VANGUARD every week was a necessary but insufficient part of the long-term mental survival strategy. I needed more; and got more. 

Four books have been written since “my retirement”; we have assisted 17 other authors with their books. None of those other books lasted more than two years – from start to finish. ATTAH: ARCHITECT OF A NEW DEMOCRATIC DAWN tested the patience of my young staff beyond endurance. Three left, Japa, and had to be replaced by individuals sharing the same passion for research documentation and writing. I have since discovered how few of them there are. One stalwart had remained from the beginning – Nurudeen Seriki – without whose steadfastness, the book would never have been written.

Apart from staff leaving, the manuscripts had to copied and archived with trusted Business Centres, BCs; retrieved for amendments and additions at irregular intervals and stored again indefinitely. Two centres closed shop and three threw us out before the final manuscript went to the Publisher. Only our frequent patronage of the BCs on account of other assignments saved us from being totally ostracized by all the BCs in Lagos Island.

THEN DISASTER STRUCK UNEXPECTEDLY 

“Beware! When fortune would elect to trick a man, she plots his overthrow/ By such means as he least expects” – Geoffrey Chaucer, 1342-1400, VANGUARD BOOK OF QUOTATIONS, VBQ, p 64.

The book of quotations, my first book, published in 2007 in Nigeria, actually started in 1965 in New York City and took an astonishing 42 years to complete. To compile the quotations, I must have read, partly or fully, over 3, 000 books; countless magazines and newspapers, journals, periodicals.  Speed Reading Course, taken in the summer of 1967, helped a great deal in the endeavour. Obviously, ATTAH: ARCHITECT OF A NEW DEMOCRATIC DAWN, taking a mere 13 years to write, is, by comparison, a middle distance run. Other books, for example, PDP: CORRUPTION INCORPORATED, took two years; ATTAH ON RESOURCE CONTROL and IT IS WELL WITH MY SOUL were knocked off in two years. IBRAHIM B. BABANGIDA, 1985-1992, LETTING A THOUSAND FLOWERS BLOOM lasted 19 months; and FROM SAD SAM TO UNCLE SAM was a sprint; it was rushed in less than 10 months. I had ghost-written three books – all lasting less than one year; and helped authors with 11 manuscripts entrusted to me.

In the process, I became “an expert” on various aspects of book writing and publishing; after patronizing five Publishers in Ibadan over the years. Complacency must have set in; every single book was delivered on or before due date. My colleagues and I don’t believe in excuses; and we never offered any to clients. ATTAH: ARCHITECT OF A NEW DAWN – despite the marathon run, was going to be delivered with weeks to spare before launching date. Fortune had a different idea.

The immediate past paramount ruler of Ibadan passed on unexpectedly; and a new one – Senator Rasheed Ladoja – would mount the throne of his fathers. Suddenly, the best printers in Ibadan, including the one handling Attah’s book, were besieged by state and non-state actors; ordered to stop everything else and start working on the materials needed for burial and coronation. The setback for us was estimated at two weeks – there was still time to spare; or, so I thought. African time intruded; 14 days stretched to 20.

There was still hope of collecting the books on the last week of October. But, by now, the unusual has happened to us. His Excellency Attah, as well as the Planning Committee members were on the phone daily, hourly, asking when to expect books in Abuja. Finally, end of October was promised as the delivery date. Perhaps out of excessive caution, I decided to wait until the end of the month to proceed to Ibadan to collect all the copies and send Abuja’s and Uyo’s consignment at the same time from Lagos and retain the rest for Lagos. Well, if wishes were private jets, all of us would own one.

A DAY TO REMEMBER FOR LIFE

“Not fire, nor walls of iron can hinder fate” – Pindar, 518-438 BC.

We negotiated with a transporter who set out for Ibadan, very early, with two of my assistants and me on Saturday, November 1, 2025, without breakfast, but, hoping to arrive in time for all of us to have one. The first disruption of plans occurred within 30 minutes. An accident involving a tanker on the expressway created a terrible hold-up. It took three hours to reach the Sagamu-Benin junction – instead of 45 minutes. Time for Gala and coke. Brunch (breakfast and lunch) will be at Ibadan.

The trip came to a standstill twenty five minutes after that. A trailer had run into a stationary one; the force of the impact sent the contents of the two vehicles flying everywhere. The two Lagos to Ibadan lanes were completely blocked as well as one lane on the other side. We were getting close to the old Toll Gate at Ibadan; when it occurred to me to ask one of my PAs to call the Publisher and announce our arrival. Then came greatest the shock of my life. “There are no books to collect on Monday”. Blackout.

“Where am I?” is a question doctors and nurses in emergency sections of hospitals get asked millions of times everyday by people regaining consciousness. I issued my own query for the day. But, before anybody could answer, the drips pissing fluids in my arm, the hospital apron and the adult pampers strapped to my waist told me the truth. For the first time in my life, I had passed out on Saturday and rejoined the world on Monday afternoon. By then, the truck had returned to Lagos; no book, N400, 000 lost. What followed is a long story; and this article is being written four days to the book launch.

HONOUR AT STAKE

“When faith is lost; when honour dies, the man is dead” – Whittier 1807-1892

The doctor had been told about what happened; and he had seized my phone. He also instructed my Senior PA, Nurudeen, not to answer any call about the book from anybody. While I was out, steps had been taken to reach the printer and alert him to the calamity unfolding – unless he starts printing books in a hurry. On regaining my senses, the first question I asked was “what is the situation with the books?” This was followed by a clear statement. “I am not leaving Ibadan without books; come what may.”

Late Monday afternoon, November 3, 2025, four, still wet, copies of the book were presented to me. It was time to sleep again. Tuesday, I woke up with only my brain working. The rest of my body was dead. Instructions were given about dispatching books as fast as they were available. Two more staff members were drafted to Ibadan.

By Monday, November 17 sufficient copies of books should have arrived Abuja…

Last hurdle. On Thursday, November 12, roads leading to and out of Ibadan along the expressway were blocked. There were books ready to go. We had to find unorthodox means of breaking the blockage. We did; at great cost. Mission accomplished.

To God be the glory that I am still alive to write this article about this book.

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