They Carried June 12 On Their Back; 29 Years Later, They Remain Forgotten While Their Backs Ache

Nigeria is in the process of electing the next leader in 2023 as political parties work toward positioning their candidates as the best to replace outgoing president, Muhammadu Buhari, whose tenure is less than 12 months. By then, the country would have had seven uninterrupted presidential elections from 1999, which many people believe confirms the strength of the country’s democracy and a massive shift from the long military rule. By 2023, Nigeria would have spent more years under civilian control, 34 years, than under military dictatorship, 29 years.

Many Nigerians believe that the democracy being enjoyed from 1999 is a result of June 12, 1993, presidential election adjudged the freest and fairest in the country’s history. The Muhammadu Buhari administration also agrees because, in 2018, the president conferred Moshood Abiola, the winner of the annulled election, with the highest title of GCFR posthumously and declared June 12 Democracy Day. It was a recognition of the struggle for democracy that Abiola and his wife, Kudirat, fought and died for. 

There is a reason Abiola and his wife, Kudirat, became the main actors of the June 12 election saga. Abiola was arrested on June 23, 1994, and charged with treason, a year after the election, when he declared himself president. He would spend four years in detention, mostly solitary confinement, before his death on July 7, 1998. His wife, Kudirat, who was an important figure during the struggle, stepped up when he was arrested, coordinating local and international campaigns for the release of her husband and the recognition of his political mandate. In 1996, six days to the third year anniversary of the June 12 election and two years after her husband’s arrest, Kudirat was assassinated. She was shot in her vehicle in Lagos alongside her driver.

But the June 12 story does not start and end with the questionable death of Abiola and the assassination of his wife. Many pro-democratic Nigerians like Wole Soyinka, Femi Falana, Beko Ransome Kuti, Bola Tinubu, Chief John Odige-Oyegun, Bolaji Akinyemi, Alhaji Mohammed Siraj Hamza, Wahab Dosunmu, Otunba Aboyade Cole, Olufemi Olutoye, Chief Sobo Sowemimo,  Steve Achema, Chief Olaniwun Ajayi, Chief Olu Falae, Jonah Jang, Abraham Adesanya, Ayo Adebanjo many of whom were members of the National Democratic Coalition, invested their time, energy, money, intellect, international connection, and influence into fighting the military government of General Sani Abacha. The return of democracy in 1999 gave many of them a sense of fulfilment as some have gone to occupy leadership positions in the country. 

There are thousands more, however, who became just numbers in the tragedy of the June 12 saga. These people never had any monuments erected in their names, streets named after them or enjoyed any political position. In fact, for a lot of them, June 12 was the beginning of the downward spiral of their lives. They were the foot soldiers who made up the crowds that chanted at rallies and marched from Ikeja to Stadium after the election was annulled. These people put their lives and livelihood on hold to join in the struggle. By the time it ended, some of them had lost their lives, while others who managed to keep what was left of theirs had lost their livelihood. 29 years later, Neusroom spoke to two of them, and their stories embody the majority of what people like them have gone through.

 

Akinola Orisagbemi

In 1994, after Abiola was arrested for declaring himself as president, a group of Nigerians staged protests, particularly in Lagos, calling for Abacha to release the acclaimed winner of the election. Among them were human rights lawyers Femi Falana and Gani Fawehinmiwho marched alongside pro-democratic protesters. 20-year-old Akinola Orisagbemi, who was one of the personal assistants to Kudirat, was in the crowd. Although he did not have the pedigree of the NADECO elders, he was a key player in the saga. The youngest among them, his work for Kudirat placed him squarely in the middle of the saga.

“I met Abiola after I lost a business deal,” he told Neusroom. I was living in Sokoto then when the business dealing went awry, and I was left with nothing. Someone told me that if I could meet with Abiola, my life would change.”

In 1992, Orisagbemi decided to come to Lagos and, through a mutual, was introduced to Abiola, who, true to the generosity he was famed for, gave him some money and a job as one of his wife’s personal assistants.

When riots and protests broke out across the country after Abiola’s arrest, Orisagbemi joined the different protests in Lagos under the supervision of Kudirat. He was always in and out of detention for public disturbance. He led Kudirat women on protests in Lagos and also joined the contingents in protests in Abuja after Abiola was transferred there.

On the 28th of July, 1994, Abiola was arraigned at the Federal High Court in Abuja. Tension was high, and Rev. Jesse Jackson came from the US as a special envoy of the White House to mediate Nigeria’s political crisis. Orisagbemi was one of several protesters who besieged the court while similar demonstrations took place in Lagos. When the judge denied Abiola bail and ordered him back to prison pending resumption of the proceedings, a riot broke out as barricades were set up by the protesters calling for Abiola’s release. The military was called in as soon as they arrived and started firing at the crowd.

New York Times put the figure of those who died that day at 5. 15 were injured while 50 people were reportedly arrested. According to Orisagbemi, the figure was higher. He was struck by a hail of bullets and miraculously survived. 

“I spent three weeks receiving treatment in Abuja before being transferred to Lagos, where I spent four months. 60 pellets of bullets were lodged in my back. I was again transferred to Ijebu Ketu for more treatment.”

As soon as he was out of the hospital, Orisagbemi continued with the ‘struggle’. He and other members of the pro-democratic group were relentless in their call for Abiola’s release and recognition as president of the nation. He was marked by the military and constantly had to change his abode. When Kudirat was killed on June 4, 1996, Orisagbemi said he should have been in the vehicle with her, but the date coincided with one of his periodic hospital visits. Her death did not slow down the movement that was growing day by day.

“Many people died, but we did not stop. We were determined. Even when Abiola died on July 7, 1998, Orisagbemi said they did not give up until democracy returned in 1999.

When Olusegun Obasanjo was elected president of Nigeria in 1999, and other offices were filled with politicians, some of whom were part of the struggle for independence, Orisagbemi had nothing to return to. His work as PA to Kudirat was gone, and his expectation that he and other democracy crusaders would be compensated soon became an expectation that was never fulfilled.

“It seemed we did all the work, and some other people have come to benefit from it. I still nurse my back as it gets infected once in a while, and I have to treat it. While other people have made money and political recognition from it, others who did not raise a finger while we were running from soldiers are also in the realm of power while we have been left unattended to.”

Orisagbemi is grateful to President Muhammadu Buhari for recognising the legitimacy of Abiola’s victory with the GCFR, but he feels it is not enough. 

“People like me who lost it all deserve to be compensated. We fought for the democracy being enjoyed now. My life would not have taken this downward spiral if I had not been involved in a struggle others are reaping now.”

The medical, mental and financial cost of the June 12 saga is something that has taken its toll on Orisagbemi’s life. Now in his 50, he feels other people are reaping the fruit he and others sowed with their sweats and lives.

“If the military returns to power today, I will not hesitate to fight. However, many of the politicians in office today will run away. We sacrificed ourselves but so far have not benefitted from it.”

 

Abiodun Mustapha

Like Orisagbemi, Abiodun Mustapha was one of Abiola’s boys. A NADECO youth leader at the time, he was a tailor who was also a member of the Campaign for Democracy through Beko Ransome Kuti. Nicknamed June 12 because of his selfless participation in the protest, the 59, year-old would lose his leg in the struggle.

In June 1994, when Abiola decided to declare himself president, Mustapha joined the protest from Toyin street on the way to the Racecourse (now Tafawa Balewa Square). It was at Eko bridge that they were ambushed and shot at by soldiers. 

“We were chanting and singing when rains of bullets poured on us. I did not realise I had been shot until I felt one part of my body give way. I looked down and saw I was drenched in blood.”

Mustapha said he jumped down from Eko bridge to hide but was soon fished out by the soldiers, who surprising drove them to Lagos Island General Hospital.

“We were seven of us that day that were taken into the hospital. Shortly after our arrival, a nurse rushed into the ward and told us soldiers had returned and were coming for all those injured in the protest. I did not think twice before smashing a louvre and plunging down.”

Mustapha was one of the lucky ones, according to him. From his hiding place buried in the flowers below, holding himself not to scream in pain, he heard the boots of soldiers marching overhead, the door being kicked open and sporadic gunshots followed by the retreat of the boots.

“They killed all the other six people. I was the only survivor. I stayed unmoving for a long time, too afraid to come out of my hiding place while I bled from the gunshot wound.  When I eventually summoned the courage to leave, I asked the nurse to help reach out to a friend who eventually came to take me out of the hospital.”

Mustapha was taken to the government hospitals in Osogbo and Ibadan but was rejected. When he was finally given consideration at the hospital in Ilorin, gangrene had already spread across the leg. Still, the hospital demanded a police report before commencing treatment.

“My younger sibling had to come to Lagos to meet Beko Ransome-Kuti for a police report. He reached out to another police officer in Kwara state who facilitated the report. By then, the hospital had to cut the leg due to infection. It was 18 days after I was shot.”

Like Orisagbemi,  Mustapha lost all due to the June 12 saga. As a tailor, working with one leg proved difficult, thereby affecting his source of livelihood. His expectation that the return to democracy will improve his life as a victim of the fight for democracy soon proved to be an unrealised dream. 

“We watch as people who were nowhere to be found when we were involved in the fight for democracy come in to reap where they did not sow.”

In 2006, Mustapha and some other persons who were affected by the June 12 saga wrote a letter to then-governor Bola Tinubu to inform him of their predicament. 

According to Mustapha, they got an encouraging response from Tinubu as he promised to offer them financial assistance. However, the effort was sabotaged when they were not given the money released by the government.

“When we went to the governor’s office again to meet with him, those that did not let us get the money accused us of truancy and got us arrested.”

Despite what he has gone through, Mustapha still joins protests against bad governance. He describes it as innate as he feels pressure within him to stand up against tyranny.

“I participated in the Fuel Subsidy removal protest and also the EndSars protest. It is in me. However, I feel that we fought in vain for June 12 because our contribution and sacrifices have not been recognised. I have been nursing red eyes caused by tear gas. I have been locked up six times since I lost my leg. My landlord in Mushin, at a point, felt worried that he might lose his house due to my constant arrest. That’s the extent of our doggedness. We fought to the finish.”

Mustapha recalled one time that he visited the home of someone that lost his life in the June 12 saga. The parents chased him out because it was an episode they wanted buried for life.

“I was collating names of victims of June 12 perhaps we could go as a front and get compensation from the government. When I visited their home, they said they did not care for any compensation anymore. I don’t blame them, though, because even the living has not been catered for. I still say we fought a good fight, not those that did not know the genesis are getting the reward.”

For Mustapha, his life has taken a different course from where it was going. From being a well-known tailor providing service for the Felas to struggling for daily bread, he wishes he could change the hands of time. All his sacrifices, he feels, have been in vain.