PERSPECTIVE
As good life appeared to be a mirage in the Niger Delta, idealistic young men, who went by the militants’ label, decided to make a reality show of ransom or death (or both) with the lives of those in the region perceived to be the oppressors and their collaborators.
For them, agitation was the instrument of peace and war, and inexplicably, the means to development. However, beneath the exuberant idealism was an unmistaken quest for personal power, personal wealth, personal prestige and personal survival.
The creeks and the mangroves developed claws and eyes and muscles which could kill and suck blood.
No one was safe
At the centre of the game was the Movement for the Emancipation of the Niger Delta (MEND) and its numerous mutations. What started with the hoisting of the flag for self-determination and justice, transformed into something more sinister. “Many groups were emerging and regrouping for the purpose of this protest and agitation,” says Oturubo, one of the region’s leaders.
He adds, “the mission was getting bad as individuals started fighting for their economic survival. The agitation got into sea piracy, oil bunkering, hostage taking and kidnapping for ransom. In a camp, three or four people can gather themselves for operations. This was helped because gun was easy to get in the Niger Delta. Every community has its own armoury as individuals also have guns.”
The genie was out of the bottle and wreaking havoc.
When Dr Goodluck Ebele Jonathan, a native of Ogbia in Bayelsa State, became Nigeria’s president, following the death of his principal (Umaru Musa Yar’Adua), he tried to improve on the Amnesty Programme which had been initiated by President Olusegun Obasanjo and begun by Yar’Adua before his passing. He developed a personal rapport with some of the leaders, especially the taciturn, but larger-than life Tompolo, a honcho of MEND. But that only diminished the violence. Fregene says “sixty per cent of our brothers in this Niger Delta are militant in character and they have been engaged in the different inter-ethnic crises.”
The situation was developing its own momentum and self-perpetuation. The inter and intra-ethnic crises whetted the appetite of the devil and now the situation was becoming difficult to control. In Fregene’s words: “During this period, they took up arms against one another. They were well-trained on how to use guns, on how to shoot. In this process of counter exchanges, they knew how to fight. Then in each area, there would be one person like a kingpin, who is taking care of the fighters.
He becomes the “General Officer Commanding” (GOC). So as a politician or top businessman, you know you must get this person to your side. You now engage these people and fund them. You pay them, give them security contract and with this funding, the GOC maintains these fighters. He spreads money around.”
Trouble too was not in short supply
Emegere was one of those hired by the company to troubleshoot in the treacherous terrain of the Niger Delta. In 2011, some vandals had blown up an oil pipeline somewhere in the riverine area of Ondo State. Chevron followed due process of informing the Nigerian National Petroleum Corporation (NNPC), the state and federal governments and the affected community. Thereafter, a Joint Investigation Visit (JIV) was arranged with Emegere representing Chevron, to ascertain the cause of the spillage.
Some armed mobile policemen were attached to the JIV team which left Warri for Ondo State. Emegere says that members did not know that some informants, including those working with the Ondo State government, may have been in touch with some elements with sinister intention. He recalls: “When we got to Igbokoda, Ondo State, we were to leave the jetty and board the boat, but those who received us said we don’t need to go with our police escorts. They said they already have armed police escorts who would accompany us there.”
Emegere did not suspect any hanky-panky. So, he and his colleagues boarded the boat, and soon, they were off on the unmarked path off the lagoon. It was when they got to a remote location where Chevron was not operating that he had a sense of foreboding. They knew that they were, literally, in hot soup. Suddenly, their captors, who had hitherto been calm, became hostile. They said before they could visit the area of the oil spillage, the JIV team had to visit the area’s traditional ruler. This was not what was discussed earlier, but Emegere and the others bowed when it was clear they had no choice.
Thus began a nine-day nightmare
That makeshift “house” was an elaborate hut built on stilts on the lagoon. It represents the ugly face of the Niger Delta. It has no light, no potable water, no modern conveniences. It is just the old-style hut which has been used for generations before the Ilaje people realised that they were rich in hydrocarbons. That unsteady house represents the permanence of problem for the people of the Niger Delta. Emegere and his colleague were marched outside into the endless mangrove. They kept them in the mangrove from about 1 pm until sunset. At about 8 pm, they ferried the captives to another community.
With their prized captives, the kidnappers began negotiations with Chevron which was ready to do everything permissible within its policy regarding employees’ safety and welfare to ensure that its staff were unharmed and freed. The kidnappers kept their captives in a small room with neither electricity nor any other facility for modern living. They were fed sparingly. It was a harrowing experience. Emegere became ill. “I think it was malaria, so they got me Fansidar – an antimalarial medicine. On the day we were released, I could barely walk. Chevron had to send a helicopter to Igbokoda to move me to Warri clinic. I was on admission for days.”
Emegere believes his kidnap was an elaborate operation planned and executed with the active involvement of a commissioner in the Ondo State government. He also came face-to-face with the logistics of kidnapping, with the support staff of caterers and doctors to ensure that the high profile hostages remained alive as bargaining chips. He came to realise that his company too had a sophisticated proactive infrastructure to deal with such emergency. With the kidnap, Chevron swung into action and eventually succeeded in getting the hostages released. The company knew it was now in a different kind of war. It was a new dangerous Niger Delta.
To some Niger Delta leaders, kidnapping was a legitimate weapon of the struggle. Their main targets were the staff of the oil companies, especially the expatriates who were seen as more valuable hostages. But once you are a staff of an IOC, you were a potential victim.
Before kidnapping became a way of life in the labyrinthine Niger Delta, staff of Chevron were free to interact with members of the neighboring communities. They had friends and sometimes, they went out on furlough in the neigbouring villages and towns. It was a good and peaceful environment before the Warri crisis was ignited. Since then, the oil companies had learnt to take pre-cautionary measures.
Rilwanu believes he was taking the right precautions. Then came 25 July 2003. It was a Friday. It was also his birthday and his daughter’s. Early that morning, he had packed his bag to spend the weekend in Benin and celebrate with members of his family. As was his habit, he would call John Ashima, his direct boss, usually by 6.45 every morning. If Ashima did not receive his call by 6.50 am, he would call him, as they always talked before the usual 7 am leadership meeting in Escravos.
By 6.30 am, he stepped out of his house and entered his car. In a jiffy, three men emerged and asked him to step out. He knew he was in trouble. When his boss called him at 6.50 am, the phone rang and rang, but there was no reply. He (Ashima) knew there must be trouble. When he still could not get through, he contacted Rilwanu’s neighbours and they told him that what he feared had happened. By 7.30 am, the entire Chevron management was aware of what had happened. The company had to work collaboratively with the state government to secure his release.
His kidnappers told Rilwanu that they had been trailing him for more than a month, for he was their specific target. They even trailed him to his home in Benin but did not have the opportunity to capture him. They tried to set him up with ladies, but Rilwanu was not a ladies’ man. They said he was a straightforward but stubborn man. They knew their quarry well and were joyous that they had captured such an important prisoner.
They took him to a safe house in Warri where they kept him for two days. The kidnappers did not try to hide their identity. They told him they were Ijaws representing the Egbema National Development Forum (ENDF). They wanted their community to be recognised as one of the oil-producing communities within Chevron operations. Chevron had no business in that community. They believed this kidnap would get them what they wanted. Rilwanu knew his life was in the hands of these hard men. He prayed hard.
By virtue of his job, he also interfaces with the government, making him quite popular.
Rilwanu’s direct supervisor was at the centre of efforts to get him freed. The company contacted Governor Ibori who then summoned the State Security Council. For them, the kidnap had come too close to the centre of the state. They employed all the resources at their disposal to look for Rilwanu and that was why the kidnappers were moving him regularly.
They knew Chevron would not pay ransom and, therefore, they settled for the olive branch offered by the government of Ibori who promised to investigate their grievances. On the eighth day, the kidnappers quietly dropped Rilwanu on a side street in Warri and told him he was free.
Many years after, the memory of that ordeal still holds Rilwanu captive. He said he could not drive alone, and anytime a vehicle overtook him, his heart would skip a beat or two. It is as if the kidnappers could again emerge from the shadows and present him with another nightmare.
As he had promised, Ibori persuaded the various ethnic groups in Delta State to accept government proposal on the sharing of benefits from the oil companies. The state government fused the ijaw kingdoms of Gbaramatu, Egbema, Ogulagha together as offshore stakeholders in NNPC/Chevron JV operation – in a bid to accept joint recognition as offshore community stakeholders. According to Rilwanu: “Government was able to impose a political solution by merging them. It just fused the three kingdoms together. This (was what) gave birth to the Gbaramatu, Egbema and Oghulagha Coastal Community Front (GEOCCF).”
The state government’s formula brought relative peace. With the intervention of the state government, it became easier to engage the communities in constant dialogue so that they would understand and appreciate the changing circumstance of the oil industry. Part of these engagements includes explanation on the declining production suffered by all oil producing companies since the emergence of community crises.
The Delta State Government tackled the primary cause of the conflict which was the sharing of political power. The government knew the tussle for the control of the Warri South-West Local Government Council was a festering sore dividing the Itsekiri and the Ijaw. After Ibori was sworn-in as governor on 29 May 1999, he moved to create a working relationship between the leadership of the two ethnic groups. His government brought them to Benin City (capital of Edo State). It was here, after many days of negotiations, that the Delta State Government was able to broker peace and reach an acceptable agreement on power sharing.
Seven years after that nightmare, precisely on July 8, 2010, Rilwanu was captured again.
• Being excerpts from The Contentious Search for Peace in the Niger Delta, authored by Jide Ajide, John Ashima and Oluwole Agunbiade
