Nigeria’s unsung heroes and heroines

There is usually a subjective dimension to history. What passes for history is more often than not a partial rendition of events. In the process, the part is usually mistaken for the whole.

Much of the foregoing applies, in an uncanny way, to the manner in which chroniclers have tended to view the way Nigeria attained independence. Often, independence is usually viewed in two ways. The first is the popular contention that our independence was won on the proverbial platter of gold. On this score, commentators are likely to dwell on the seemingly smooth transfer of power between the white colonialists and the Nigerian black elite. Similarly, names like Nnamdi Azikiwe, Ahmadu Bello and Obafemi Awolowo are usually regarded as the architects of Nigerian independence.

We do not wish to take anything away from these modern architects of Nigeria. Yet, it is imperative that we have a complete insight into how and why independence came about in 1960.
On this score, we wish to recall that the drive for political independence was in part catalysed by the Second World War. Ex-servicemen, who had been discharged from the war, came back home brimming with new ideas as regards how society should be ordered. Many of them had fought alongside white soldiers and, in the process, were exposed on a firsthand basis to the frailty of the white man, whose image had been built up in order to justify the colonial racket and enterprise.

Incidentally, one of such ex-servicemen was Silas Uzokwu, from Abagana, in the Eastern part of Nigeria. But that was as far as his identity goes. This is because he saw himself mainly as a Nigerian. Steeped in the intellectual diet provided by the likes of Azikiwe and Gandhi, he saw and viewed colonial rule as an anathema which must be abolished. Invariably, he questioned the gross iniquities in the then colonial Nigeria. In what can arguably be regarded as misguided, he decided to employ psychomotor variables to redress the situation.
Rather than see the political context of his action, the then colonial authorities, in consonance with their self-interests, decided to downplay the political dynamic. And in collusion with the judiciary, Silas Uzokwu was tried for attempted murder and jailed for life.

For the unsung heroine, Adunni Oluwole readily comes to mind. In an age when women were to be seen and not heard, Adunni would have none of that. It is on record that Adunni Oluwole was the first woman to form a political party in Nigeria. The party went on to win a seat in Ikirun in the then Western region. Thus, long before the gender agenda came to be, Adunni Oluwole was a pioneer in the vanguard of this noble enterprise.

Not to be forgotten are the women of Aba. In the heydays of colonial rule, the Aba women stood at the barricades to protest the harsh and undue taxation measures of the British overlords. But since history is always written by hegemonic forces, that particular incident is usually referred to as the ‘Aba Women Riots’. But such a reference is pejorative. This is because riot is suggestive of unruly and disorderly behaviour, whereas what the women of Aba did was to robustly protest the issue of arbitrary taxation which the British wanted to impose on the populace.

As we celebrate and reflect on the joys and agonies of Nigeria at 55, our thoughts and gratitude should go to not just the visible nationalists who successfully wrested political independence from Britain, but also to social forces like Silas Uzokwu, Adunni Oluwole and the Aba women. In their seemingly different and related ways, they successfully gave the British Raj a good run for his hegemonic devices.

Thus, as Nigeria marches into its 56th year of existence, we as a nation should be conscious of the need to keep aloft the ideals which these unsung heroes and heroines espoused when they were on this side of the earthly divide.