THISDAYonline

It was a balmy night and the time was 4.00 a.m. From a vantage point on the hill, I watched, with my host, the sea of lights, down below of old Calabar city as its inhabitants slept. Nothing moved. All that could be seen illuminating the valley below was the amazing array of twinkling lights. It was a spectacular, mindblowing view of the city, certainly not to be missed. My host? Governor Donald Duke of Cross River state. We were standing in the expansive grounds of the Governor's Lodge. What was I doing there, and at that hour? Here's the story...

It had begun some two weeks earlier. A couple of months before the year drew to a close. I was making a mad dash through London's Heathrow airport having earlier taken an ill-advised, calculated risk of dashing into town from the airport (where I had arrived that morning in transit, en route Lagos) with barely two hours to spare before the connecting flight was due to depart. I made it back to Heathrow at about the time boarding should have commenced, and in fact, possibly almost ended. And I still had to retrieve my hand luggage from the lounge, link up with my son who was joining me from London and was already at the airport, and then see a friend who was also flying at about the same time to a different destination and who had delayed boarding waiting for me. Talk about living on the edge. Don't blame me though. It rubbed off from working at THISDAY (guess who?)...

Anyway, my mad dash was completely halted by a queue (for the second time that morning, I failed to appreciate the otherwise perfectly reasonable British passion for queuing at every available opportunity) at the so-called fast track lane. As I stood fidgeting in frustration, wishing I could give in to that base Nigerian instinct of jumping queues (I had after all done so, and rather successfully too, at the Taxi rank at Paddington just a couple of hours earlier...actually, the woman - British - who'd let me in ahead of her on a mile long queue had probably taken in my look of utter desperation and decided to let me out of my misery), the gentleman in front of me turned round.

I found myself looking into a pair of eyes that belonged to a face I hadn't seen at such close proximity in 19 years.

'Hallo Mr. Duke', I said pleasantly.

'I know you' came the reply, 'St. Mary's?'

'Nope, Law School' I reminded him as I introduced myself.

He was also on the same flight it turned out. Never one to miss a good opportunity - despite trying to catch my breath - I asked if I could do a long-planned profile on him (I'd never got round to seriously pursuing the necessary contact), in the same breath, suggesting that we discuss the details on board the plane later. I explained - lest he thought me unserious - that I was in the middle of this really important mad dash which the queue had currently put paid to, but which would surely be resumed just as soon as I got through.

'Why don't you try shunting?' was the mischievous advice, said with a perfectly straight face, but a twinkle in the eye.

Shunting! That was a slang one hardly heard any more. It had been introduced, I think, in my secondary school days and was quite widely used throughout my university/Law School years. Ahh! One was getting old. I had matriculated 24 years earlier...

Shunting! I had to laugh out loud at that one, and for those moments we stood exchanging banters, it was clearly plain citizen Donald Duke in evidence. We'd established a firm rapport, and I knew I would have an unpretentious, perfectly down to earth person as the subject of my proposed profile.

He easily agreed to oblige me.

Two weeks later, I flew into the tranquil and ancient city of Calabar.

An unscheduled State Executive Council meeting was taking place that afternoon, so I went to my hotel where I waited until word was sent that I should go to the Governor's office to see him as he was scheduled to hold a press parley.

As I entered his waiting room, my heart sank at the number of people waiting to see him. I wondered when on earth we would have time to sit down and talk in a relaxed atmosphere, what with the press parley and visitors. It was then about 7.00 p.m.

Not too long after I arrived, I was ushered into his office.

'Funke, where do I begin to apologise' were the disarming words he met me with. He explained that he had the press parley to attend to first, having earlier postponed and rescheduled it, as well as some crucial meetings and that we should meet at the Governor's lodge at about midnight.

Midnight! My goodness, the whole day would be gone! And then again, I didn't want to shot at by some overzealous security officer at that hour. Dear Lord. Those thoughts only showed my ignorance of the workings of government, for when I arrived slightly ahead of the appointed time, the place was bustling so much, it might as well have been broad daylight!

Again, people waiting to see the governor. At that late hour. I mean, give me a break! I began to seriously wonder whether anybody actually slept in this place.

He arrived shortly after I got there, coming in with still more people! He gave instructions as he strode across that I be served tea. Oh boy! I said to myself. No way was this man going to even have time for what I wanted. My plan, you see, had been to have a perfectly relaxed evening with the governor and listen to him playing the saxophone - all in a day's work in the life of a hard working editor... I, being a wind instrument enthusiast (I play the flute), had always been intrigued by the sax and had in fact, wanted to get one a few years back and learn how to play it. Just for the heck of it. Earlier at the airport in London, Duke had, when I mentioned this part of my plan to him, promised to oblige. 'You mean like a serenade?' he had laughed, with that twinkle in his eyes. I'd laughed too.

I was surprised when he later popped his head in to ask that I sit in another sitting room, where I was, this time, by myself. Surprised because by then I thought, chances of even so much as speaking with this man were slim. At least from where I stood. Surprised because I had thought, surely he would not remember that I (the hard working editor) was waiting.

Moments later, full of apologies for the wait, he came in and asked whether I'd eaten. He introduced me to his wife and requested that I join them upstairs for supper. I noticed that he still had people waiting, plus he was yet to have the meeting he had spoken about.

So there we were, the three of us, having supper, after his wife had blessed the food, at about midnight! It was a simple, but delicious fare of rice (no prizes for guessing which brand), fried plantain and chicken. We chatted and I asked Mrs. Onari Duke how she felt about the fact that her husband, evidently on a regular basis, did not get much sleep. She, evidently also, had become accustomed to that fact. Sometimes, she said, she had to leave notes for him on his pillow.

I wasn't surprised. I had learnt earlier from the state Attorney-General, Mrs. Nella Andem Ewa that the governor's schedule was gruelling. It was not unusual for him to end his various meetings at say, 5.00am and still be at the airport first thing in the morning to catch the first flight out! The rose tinted glasses slipped off and I began to see the art of governance in a slightly different way. Images of all those owanbe parties one had heard about and God knew what else faded into oblivion. This governorship business had more to it, certainly, than I had thought. Seemed to me to be like serious hard work.

'Is it worth it?', I couldn't help asking the governor in between mouthfuls of Uncle Ben's rice.

'Unless you have the passion and love what you're doing' explained Duke 'then it would be difficult'. As he explained further, people on the outside see the sirens and what they think of is the glamour of being in government, but in reality, when you're in it, you don't even notice these things.

'When you change peoples' lives forever, it's a fantastic thing' he enthused, with that perpetual twinkle in his eyes, citing the example of a recently commissioned rural electrification project.

Clearly, here was a man who loved what he was doing and was keen to make a difference. One had heard over time in the news media about the agricultural revolution being wrought in the state. The acres of pineapple farms and massive growing of castor seeds and cashew, oil palm, cocoa and rubber. I had also seen first hand earlier that day, the excellent road network in Calabar. It had, in fact, struck me immediately, as had the cleanliness - coming from Lagos as I was...

Supper over, I thanked my host and hostess and returned to the sitting room downstairs. By now, it was almost 1.00 am! Oh, the things I do for a story, I thought, not for the first time. I indulged in wallowing in a generous dose of self-pity (as a friend of mine once put it, self pity never hurt anyone, especially if you're not getting it from anywhere else!).

I tried to concentrate on a magazine, but at that hour it was of no use. Occasionally, the governor popped in to apologise with that disarming smile and to assure me that he would soon be with me. 'Funke' he said contritely, at one such interval, 'I feel thoroughly guilty doing this to you'.

By 3.30 am, I was thinking, ah poor me. Eni l'eni nje (today is today), I said to myself, slightly bemused by now. Somehow, the sleep had all but been driven away. I wanted to see how all this would end. Surely, oh surely, the governor was not about to play the sax! And surely, he would not even be coherent at that hour. Was I wrong or what? At least about being coherent. Not only was he quite lucid, he didn't look ready to drop though he'd been on his feet all day.

Sitting at the back, I'd watched him closely, earlier on in the evening at the press parley at the Governor's office where he'd given a very good account of himself. The camaraderie he had with the members of the press was plain to see. He was also, I'd noticed, given his delivery (which was off the cuff) and answered questions in a polite, humorous, but firm manner. None of the arrogance and contemptuous attitude one usually sees in these parts associated with the trappings of power. He actually reminded me of Bill Clinton, in terms of his presence and charisma. Which is a high compliment. I had rather admired teflon Bill, despite all his (self inflicted, to be sure) troubles. Anyway, back to the present. At 3.30am or thereabouts, he had felt compelled to break off his meeting (no doubt, I thought smugly to myself, I must have sent some serious negative vibes his way...) and attend to me (the hard working editor). The meeting would continue after we were done. I began to feel sorry for him. How on earth did he manage with this punishing schedule and still remain sane?

Immediately, I decided to keep it short. But only if he promised to give me another appointment so we could do the sax thing. His Excellency, very sorry to have kept me waiting, not only promised to do so, but also threw in an offer to give me a few lessons as well. I wondered if that could be considered gratification? What would Justice Mustapha Akanbi and his Commission think? Was that a brown envelope? Well, it would be my very first. At last! (only joking - as if you didn't know). I pictured myself being dragged by the hair, screaming, to face the bearded anti-graft Czar, begging for mercy. 'Olufunke!' I could almost hear my late father's baritone (he only called me by my full name, dragging out each syllable for emphasis, when I'd been up to no good ) warning, 'your imagination is running riot again!' On second thoughts, keeping it short had less to do with feeling sorry for him and more to do with my wanting go back to my hotel to hit the sack! Was there no easier way to earn a living, I wondered to myself as the last vestiges of self-pity popped up, unbidden, again. Me and my bright ideas.

Again, profuse apologies offered with a smile. So I instantly forgave him. Girl, you're so cheap, said a voice inside my head.

'So, tell me', I began, as we moved, in the wee hours of the morning, into a much smaller room for a chat, 'what shaped your childhood?'

'My family background? I come from a very close knit family and a parentage that very much believes in ideals. So there's a constant striving to improve on what you meet. I think that's the greatest challenge. Again, at the same time, there's been no desire for material things. We grew up believing that material things were earthly and transient, so, it makes no meaning to anyone in my family. I don't know, it may sound like a virtue, but sometimes it's not. Because you don't really end up striving for anything. People can cheat you and you just walk away and just leave them. You never get hurt when you lose something. At the same time, you don't pursue things the way you ought to'.

'It's quite contradictory' he acknowledged, 'but maybe again, we were not in want. I want to relate all these to your question. What shaped it? We were comfortable. We were made to be aware that there are lots of others who are not. So, the spirit of compassion was very strong. We were taught not to take whatever circumstance for granted. I don't know if I have answered your question'.

What would he say, I wondered, prepared him for his present role? What challenged him?

'I got to a stage in life where I felt that I really decided to flow. Perhaps my destiny was already written out that I just had to flow. I'll give you an instance. I went to a university I did not want to go to. I went to Ahmadu Bello University, but I wanted to go LSE because I had admission into the London School of Economics. And when I got into Ahmadu Bello University, I found myself getting into politics, which is so unnatural for me. It was as if it was my path. I left there, I had no inkling, no interest whatsoever of going into government. But I was very critical of government. Very, very critical of government. I went on to do my Masters and it gave me incredible exposure and got to meet a lot of people in leadership. I had a great job. In 1984 I was earning $75,000 per annum. By any standards, at the time that was wonderful'.

'Those who graduated along with me were earning about half' he recalled, 'Two years later, I just felt, "I've had enough, I'm going back home!" and I went home. Why? I don't know. People asked me and said, "you're crazy, you mean you are coming back to Nigeria at this time!" So, I don't know. In 1991, I met a gentleman Clement Ebiri who was governor before me. I was introduced to him by a friend, and I decided to support him. The guy introduced me into the politics. Prior to this, I hardly knew the state and was hardly fluent in the language. I ended up being commissioner!'

'Then in 1986, a group of friends got together and said, "look, we must do something about the state". I ended up being governor! Now, not that there were no struggles in between or that I was just moving as if being I was carried along, but when you look at the whole picture, it's as if you're being guided along. So I flowed'.

Does it irk him, his being canon fodder for soft sell magazines? And then, being constantly termed the most handsome governor, beautiful wife, best dressed governor, the whole works, did he find it distracting? I was most certainly curious.

'No, I have a very thick skin, contrary to what people think! When something is not true about me, it doesn't stick. I really don't think about it. There was a time I seemed to be the main topic there and of course people read these things and believe them, but somehow, I just have to move on. It's the nature of the work. You know what they say, if you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen! A lot of trash is thrown around and a lot of stories are built around public office holders. The talk about being handsome and all that is neither here nor there!'

'But', I pressed, 'doesn't it irk you that people can't see beyond your exterior to see what you are doing, your other achievements?'

'It's sad' was his response, 'but then you see, you have a very flighty society. Nobody wants to see that. I remember once I gave a talk somewhere and someone got up and made a statement and said, "oh, I thought, when I look at you, you look like a film star. I never knew you really had any depth!" and I said, "I am sorry I disappointed you!"

'But you see, you cannot afford to get upset with anybody in this business' he continued pragmatically, 'You just have to move along. You get disappointed, but you cannot afford to get upset with anybody!'

'Tell me about your love for the saxophone' I requested, changing tracks abruptly.

'I was playing the flute in my primary school. In my secondary school, I was trying out the guitar. In my University there was hardly any music. But in between, in fact right from the beginning, we had music lessons, piano, keyboards and all that. But flute in the primary school, guitar in the secondary'.

'When I left government as commissioner, I had a period and I really wanted to focus on the next step. Government was.suddenly truncated and you really didn't know what to do with yourself. I decided to use that period to learn the saxophone. I had always admired it from a distance. Having the background with wind instruments, it was quite easy. It's a great instrument. You should try it!'

Sure. Only waiting to hold Your Excellency to that promise.

One of his daughters, it turns out, also plays the saxophone.

'I think I have influenced that! You know how girls are. Occasionally I play it to my daughter and she decided to learn the saxophone. She plays the keyboards. Which is good, because it gives you an idea of the notes and keys. She's taken on the saxophone now. She's enjoying it. It's unique for a female to play the saxophone, it seems a masculine instrument. I hope she will end up playing it very well'

Duke himself plays highlife, folk music and, as he put it, ' all sorts of things'.

His last public outing playing the sax?

'We are talking of years here! About two years. I had a concert here once with an American Jazz group. They came from Louisiana, courtesy of the American Embassy. They spent a night here. They played hard jazz, very hard jazz, Louisiana Jazz. I did about two tunes with them on stage. That was a very professional group and we never practised before. We just got on stage and we just played!'

'Why did you study law'? I changed tracks again.

'Good question! I really wanted to do history but my father and his friends would not hear of it. They thought it was the path of a never-do-well! I did A levels and my points allowed me to do law. And so, the deal was, you do law for a first degree and you can do your History for your Masters'.

' But you get into law and law really creeps in on you. Law opens your eyes to so many things. But I am basically a student of history. I knew I would never practise law. I find it too intellectual and demanding. But it's a great background'.

Invariably, we drifted to the topic of crude oil production, resource control and the sufferings of the people of the Niger Delta.

The injustice, Duke emphasised, has to be addressed., recalling that in 1996, there was an oil spill by Mobil. 'It affected everyone. It affected my state more than even Akwa Ibom state. But Mobil is based in Akwa Ibom state. Up to date, as we speak, there are still parts of Bakassi which have an oil film in their water! We are not even able to drill bore-holes for them to drink some decent water. This is the injustice in the system, which is why there was a political committee to address it. And I hope the proposals that we sent in are allowed stand'.

We shifted gears and I asked about his state's unique aggressive agricultural policies.

'Oil is not the mainstay of our national economy, nor the mainstay of any oil producing state! The mainstay of our national economy or any of the oil producing states is agriculture. That's what it was. And it still is. Even though it does not create wealth, if most people are employed in a particular occupation, that's the mainstay of their economy'.

It was easy to see that the man had a passion for this. Oh that more leaders would see beyond their noses I mused.

'The mainstay of Cross River economy is agriculture, even though they're subsistence farmers. That is what they are doing, so we have to enhance their productivity in that area. Oil may bring in tremendous wealth, but it employs so little. And the problem in Nigeria, believe me, is mass unemployment! 70% of our labour is unemployed and that is a frightening number! We are trifling and actually playing with fire! And that's why the system is so volatile. Believe it, if we have the bulk of our people gainfully employed, it will be very difficult to overthrow the system. Not only the military people and all that, but you see, all the pressure being mounted on the system can go on because there is so much disaffection in the system'.

The clock was inching its way to 4.00am, and our governor here showed no signs of fatigue! Rather, he seemed spurred on and galvanised. I could see that I had touched on a point he obviously felt strongly about.

'There are too many haves-not' he continued as he warmed up to the topic, 'too many people who are out of the economy. We need to embrace more people in the economy. We need to widen to widen the scope of participation in the economy. There are too many people out there who are just on-lookers and not players and there's no concerted effort to make them players. That should be our programme for the next 20 years. It's not the problem of an administration. It's the problem of a generation! There must be a generation that is a builder generation. Unfortunately for Nigeria, we started off with a reaper generation! A generation that just started reaping from the first day, rather than a generation that started building.

'Today, what you have in America is a generation that is reaping what was built. We never had that generation of builders. And so, we now need to constitute ourselves into that generation. What we are trying to do here in Cross River State. I said to my colleagues, "lets give this thing four years of our lives and see if we'll make a difference". Have we made a difference? Others will judge. Somehow, I think we're better off than we were four years ago. There are more communities that have infrastructure today and all that. There's a lot of work to be done.

'We are still not addressing our nationhood. We are not yet a nation. We are still too individualistic. If a man is hurt because a person has not treated him well, he wants to pull down the government. We can't go on like that! There are some people, if they are not playing the central role in this country, then the system must come down. The day I leave this office, I must be able to walk away from it and not become a hindrance to anyone who is occupying this office. I must be able to disengage completely. Unfortunately, there are too many people who have left the office and have not disengaged from the office. They want to know everything that is going on in the Villa. They are like ghosts in haunted houses! You must walk away'.

Hear, hear! It was so well articulated that I considered inwardly, here might be one politician who had my vote . I wondered if there were any more of them out there. Not the political opportunists with no vision and no mission.

Calabar had recently been in the news, with reports of rapes and political killings in the usually peaceful metropolis. What was with all that I asked?

'It's still very peaceful' Duke maintained, ' Being peaceful won't mean that you won't have the odd crime here and there'. It seemed to me to be more than that, if one went by the media reports I pointed out. I was still marvelling that he showed no signs of flagging. I would definitely have to stop soon. Not that I would have minded continuing with our discussion. I kind of enjoyed the intensity behind the words. But others were waiting. And being the considerate person that I am, well...

' Well, anything you hear at this period is politically motivated, more often than not. I am not unduly concerned. I'm not going to sweep it under the carpet and say, oh, it's nothing, but I'm not going to rush out and query the police and all that. A man gets aroused and goes to rape! It's because of that, and not because the city is unsafe. It's just one aroused man who rapes!'

'On cults, there is no fence around Cross River State; cults are not stopped at the gate! They will come in. So we have that, but we have reacted and we are doing something about it. But we don't have the robberies and this and that. They are not there. So, someone is flying a red flag and saying, 'Oh there is a rape case'. I read somewhere that someone said "There's a serial rapist going around in Calabar"! OK, we'll find him and tie him up! I still think it's a peaceful place and we don't take it for granted. We are still trying to strengthen security and that is why when the cult thing started, we reacted very swiftly. Believe me, the House of Assembly passed a Bill in 72 hours! Now, that's a record! In 72 hours we had a law that gave two years imprisonment without option of fine. For gun running or cultism. A few people have had to go in for it'.

And with that, we stopped the chat. It was time to leave and he saw me out to get a driver who would take me back to my hotel. The driver he wanted seemed to have disappeared, so whilst we waited for him to be fished out, we took a short stroll round the expansive grounds of the lodge. The original building itself was over 100 years old with large colonial style French windows. For the most part, it had remained that way, with no attempt made to modernise, maintain or improve upon it, and had been allowed to over time, go the usual 'Nigerian' way of decline. Fortunately, it had however undergone recent stylish renovations and additions which blended effortlessly with the original design. The Dukes had only just recently begun to live there. An elegant abode for an elegant couple I thought in another flight of fancy.

And that's how I came to be looking down over the old city of Calabar at 4.00am.

Watch this space for a sequel. That should be where we finally get to be serenaded by Governor Donald Duke. There could, I now concede, be worse ways to earn a living!