UN Ambition, Yoruba Brotherhood, and a Debt History Never Forgot:
How Soyinka, MKO Abiola, and Obasanjo’s UN Dream Exposed Nigeria’s Deepest Political Tragedy
History often hides its most painful lessons inside quiet conversations, private hotel rooms, and moral compromises made for the sake of “the bigger picture.” One of such moments—rarely told in full, yet deeply symbolic of Nigeria’s political contradictions—played out during Chief Olusegun Obasanjo’s controversial bid to become the Secretary-General of the United Nations. At the centre of this moment were three towering Yoruba figures: Professor Wole Soyinka, Chief Moshood Kashimawo Olawale (MKO) Abiola, and Chief Olusegun Obasanjo (OBJ).
This episode, narrated publicly by Wole Soyinka himself over the years, is not mere gossip or folklore. It is a documented political recollection that reveals how power, ethnicity, moral conscience, and betrayal intersected at a critical moment in Nigeria’s history. More importantly, it raises a haunting question that still echoes today: How was MKO Abiola repaid for this sacrifice?
Obasanjo’s UN Secretary-General Ambition: The Global Context
In the late 1980s and early 1990s, Chief Olusegun Obasanjo was positioning himself on the global stage after his tenure as Nigeria’s military Head of State (1976–1979). He had cultivated strong international connections, particularly within Western diplomatic circles, the United Nations system, and global policy think tanks. His aspiration to become UN Secretary-General was not a secret.
At the time, Obasanjo was being projected by his supporters as a “statesman,” a bridge between Africa and the West, and a reform-minded leader who could represent the Global South. However, this ambition did not sit well with many Nigerian intellectuals, activists, and pro-democracy advocates—especially those who remembered Obasanjo’s controversial military rule, his silence during subsequent military dictatorships, and his perceived ideological inconsistencies.
Among those who strongly opposed Obasanjo’s candidacy was Professor Wole Soyinka, Africa’s first Nobel Laureate in Literature, a man globally respected not only for his literary genius but also for his uncompromising moral stance against tyranny, hypocrisy, and authoritarianism.
Soyinka and the Petition Against Obasanjo
According to Soyinka’s own accounts, he led a group of eminent men and intellectuals who wrote petitions to international bodies and stakeholders to oppose Obasanjo’s emergence as UN Secretary-General. These petitions were not personal attacks; they were ideological objections rooted in Soyinka’s belief that Obasanjo did not embody the moral authority, democratic credentials, or ethical consistency required to lead the United Nations.
Soyinka’s opposition was firm, principled, and relentless. To him, allowing Obasanjo to rise to such a position would be a betrayal of democratic struggles across Africa—particularly Nigeria’s long history of military oppression, human rights abuses, and elite impunity.
At this point, Soyinka had no intention of stopping.
Then something extraordinary happened.
The Night MKO Abiola Knocked on Soyinka’s Door
One day, while staying in a hotel abroad, Soyinka heard a knock on his door. When he opened it, he was stunned.
Standing before him was Chief MKO Abiola—the same man who would later become the symbol of Nigeria’s stolen mandate after the annulment of the June 12, 1993 presidential election. What followed was an act so shocking that Soyinka himself admitted it left him shaken.
As soon as Abiola entered the room, he prostrated fully on the floor, grabbed Soyinka’s legs, and began to beg.
In Yoruba culture—especially among elders and leaders—prostration is not a casual gesture. It is an act of deep humility, submission, and desperation. Even more astonishing was the fact that MKO Abiola was not just any man. He was the Aare Ona Kakanfo of Yorubaland, a title historically associated with pride, courage, authority, and warrior honor. According to tradition, no Aare Ona Kakanfo had ever prostrated for another man in recorded history.
Soyinka, alarmed and emotionally overwhelmed, reportedly pleaded with Abiola to stand up.
“Aare, e jowo, dide ko—please stand up first,” Soyinka begged.
But Abiola refused.
Abiola’s Plea: Ethnicity, Unity, and National Pride
When Soyinka finally asked what the problem was—promising to help in any way he could—Abiola revealed his mission.
He pleaded with Soyinka to stop opposing Obasanjo’s UN ambition.
Abiola’s argument was not ideological; it was emotional, cultural, and strategic. He appealed to their shared Yoruba identity, their shared Nigerian heritage, and the symbolism of having a Nigerian—particularly a Yoruba man—lead the United Nations.
“Egbon, e jowo… please leave Obasanjo alone. Let us support him. We are Egbas, we are Yorubas, we are Nigerians. Let us support our own to lead the United Nations.”
This was not just a political appeal—it was a brother’s plea, delivered through humiliation, cultural sacrifice, and personal vulnerability.
Soyinka’s Reluctant Promise
Faced with this unprecedented act, Soyinka yielded—but not completely.
He made it clear that his decision had nothing to do with Obasanjo.
Soyinka promised MKO Abiola that he would never again write or submit any new petition opposing Obasanjo’s UN candidacy, except for those already submitted.
His words were unambiguous:
> “Not because of Obasanjo, but because of you, Chief Abiola.”
True to his word, Soyinka stopped his campaign against Obasanjo.
Ironically, despite this sacrifice, the world still rejected Obasanjo’s UN bid. He never became Secretary-General. However, Soyinka kept his promise. He never resumed his opposition.
The Unanswered Question: How Did Obasanjo Repay Abiola?
This is where history turns tragic.
Just a few years later, Nigeria descended into one of its darkest chapters. MKO Abiola won the June 12, 1993 presidential election, widely regarded as the freest and fairest in Nigeria’s history. The election was annulled by the military regime of General Ibrahim Babangida.
Abiola insisted on his mandate.
He was arrested.
He was detained.
He was isolated.
He was denied medical care.
And in 1998, MKO Abiola died in custody under suspicious circumstances.
During this period, Obasanjo—who later emerged as a civilian president in 1999—was notably absent from the frontlines of the June 12 struggle. While many activists, journalists, and ordinary Nigerians paid heavy prices, questions lingered about Obasanjo’s silence, positioning, and eventual political rise.
Hence the haunting question that refuses to disappear:
How did Obasanjo pay MKO Abiola back?
The man who prostrated. The man who begged. The man who sacrificed his pride. The man who intervened on Obasanjo’s behalf.
History offers no comforting answer.
A Moral Lesson Nigeria Still Refuses to Learn
This story is not merely about Obasanjo, Soyinka, or Abiola. It is about Nigeria’s political culture, where personal ambition often outweighs loyalty, where sacrifices are rarely rewarded, and where history is selectively remembered.
It exposes the dangers of ethnic sentiment overriding moral clarity. It reveals how power often forgets those who made its rise possible. And it forces Nigerians to confront uncomfortable truths about leadership, gratitude, and betrayal.
Until these lessons are fully acknowledged, Nigeria will continue to recycle the same tragedies—only with different names.
History remembers everything. The question is: do we?
0 Comments