Olusegun Akinloye, the first son of a former chairman of the National Party of Nigeria, late Meredith Adisa Akinloye, tells OLUFEMI ATOYEBI how his father survived 10 years in exile
How would you describe growing up with your father who was a prominent politician?
Growing up with my father was tough. I am his first son and I was born after he served as a minister in Nigeria. He was already in the mainstream of politics so he attended several political meetings. He was too busy at the time and he travelled a lot. When the crisis in the Western Nigeria started, there were lots of things going on and he was involved. So he hardly had the time to stay with the family because of political activities.
But after the political upheaval, I knew the kind of father I had. He never missed any mistake of his children. He was meticulous and a very tough man with a high level of discipline. We learnt a lot under him because he wanted the best from us.
He was a great father who loved his children. He would put me on his shoulders whenever we went out until I was 14. He called me soon after my birthday and told me that I was now a big boy and that I should learn how to do things on my own. He was also a man of humour. In the morning, he would come to our bedroom and flash a torch light in our eyes to wake us. There were times when he would have gone before we woke in the morning and he could be gone for many days.
What are you doing now?
I am a lawyer like my father and I am involved in politics, having won a seat at the House of Representatives between 2007 and 2011. I am back in law practice and I am also into some international businesses.
What legacy did your father leave behind?
I will describe him as an icon in many fields and an enigma. Many people hold various views about my father but those who were very close to him know that he did not keep bad feelings about anyone for long. He displayed a high level of mental ability and his approach to relationships was unpredictable. He could be your best friend in a moment and fought you the next minute if you out-stepped your boundary. He hated hypocrites so even if you were his best friend, he could fight you if he realised that you were dishonest. But beneath that behaviour was an extensive display of humility. He treated everyone the same way and he was always ready to help those who were in need. He said many times before he died that he scolded only people he loved and that once the affected person accepted his mistake, he would forgive immediately. These were what he lived for and we will always remember him for these outstanding qualities.
How did he handle difficult situations?
He addressed critical situations by exploring the funny side of them. He did that to ease the tension and calm everyone. Then he would go into his room and say a short prayer. He never appeared to be ruffled or unprepared in a difficult moment.
In the midst of any problem, he would listen to everyone before taking a position on the matter. Many of his friends have praised him for the ability to proffer solutionS to big problems in a simple way. I learnt a lot from that and it has helped me a lot in life.
What was his political ideology?
My father's political ideology was hinged on total development of the nation. As the chairman of the National Party of Nigeria, he ensured that the party, which ruled between 1979 and 1983, came up with policies that brought growth and development to Nigeria. In those four years, Nigeria witnessed tremendous improvement that was not noticed during the military rule.
When I was in the House, I brought up the issue of resuscitating some of the companies he helped Nigeria establish because they were part his legacies. Those companies are suffering because we played politics with the way they were run.
Would you say your father's shoes are too big for you to fill?
It is true that he left big shoes that will be difficult to fill and there are reasons why it is so. There were not many politicians around in his time and because he was one of the best at the time, people looked up to him. There was uniformity in the policies of the political parties then unlike what we have now. As the chairman of the ruling party between, he worked with people who had an idea of how a nation should be built. Another thing was that in his time, there was no much money around. Policies were made for the nation's sake. When he was the chairman of the Nigeria Airways, he did not fly any other airline. I was studying in England then and each he visited the UK, I would be at the airport to welcome him. Today, private jets are owned by politicians while our airline is dead. All these factors make it difficult for anyone to equate himself with my father.
How often did he visit his children in school?
He was a father who was proud of his children. As a politician, he was a busy man. In my first two years in England during which I did my A-Levels, NPN formation was just starting, so he had time to visit me. I left at a point with a group of Nigerian students to study French in France but returned later in 1977. He had the time to spend with us during this period until 1979 when his party won the elections.
How did he train his children?
He was extremely strict. When I was in primary school in Nigeria, he beat me with two fingers and it hurt. He would come back from work, then call myself and my sister to recite the multiplication table. He would not allow us to do it the way we were taught in the school, but the way he taught us, which was the hard way. If we missed any one, he would beat us. It made us work harder in the house.
But when we started growing up, he gave us a bit of freedom to choose the way we wanted things to be done but with strict rules. He drew a line we dared not cross and he encouraged us to save money instead of spending it on unwanted things. He came to England one day and told me that before I do anything in life, I must always think of the outcome. I don't know why he said it but it was one of the pieces of advice that shaped my life.
Did he choose careers for his children?
He was a lawyer but he never told me to study law. In fact, my other siblings studied other disciplines. I decided to study law because I was impressed by the way he addressed the court in those days. I used to go to the court with him, so naturally, I chose to study law without having to ponder over it. After making my choice, he encouraged me and taught me how to become a successful lawyer.
Your father is remembered in several quarters as a flamboyant politician…
Contrary to what people said about him, he was a very humble man who displayed modesty in everything he did. At a time when everyone was buying Mercedes Benz, my father was using a Peugeot even though he could afford a bigger car. He had driven Volkswagen Beetle before and used simple Ankara material to sew his clothes.
What about the champagne produced in his name?
It was a lie. My father never had a champagne factory in France or anywhere in the world. The government of Gen. Muhamadu Buhari and the late Tunde Idiagbon, who took over power from NPN government in 1983, used a lot of propaganda to discredit the politicians. One of them was the issue of Akinloye champagne.
Are you saying no champagne, with your father's name, was imported into Nigeria?
There was, but what the military government told Nigerians was a lie. I am happy that they later apologised to my father. He had a friend called G.K. Animashaun who used to give champagne as gift to his friends during Christmas. He lived he England but each time he visited Nigeria, he would come with champagne bearing his friend's name on the label. He gave same to my father several times.
My sister was to get married on January 3, 1984, a few days after the December 31, 1983 coup. But a few days before the coup, Animashaun visited my father's house in Oje, Ibadan and, instead of a bottle of champagne, he gave my father a carton which contained 12 bottles, as part of his contribution towards my sister's wedding. They were labelled Akinloye. Unfortunately, the coup happened some days after the delivery and when the soldiers came to our house, they found the wine and took them away. It was also unfortunate that the government handled the matter badly by giving the impression that my father had stolen so much money that he had established a wine factory where Akinloye champagne was being produced. Why was only one bottle of the wine displayed by the military at the museum in Lagos? Where is the rest of the champagne? I also find it ridiculous that before now, no journalist had done a thorough job to find out the truth about the champagne story. If our family had a champagne factory, only a few bottles would not have come to Nigeria, the product would have flooded the market around the world.
How did the family cope when your father went on exile immediately after the coup?
Because of the modest training that my father gave us, we were able to withstand the pressure. We lived with the trauma of soldiers' constant harassment. They came to the University of Lagos, looking for me and they also went to my mother's house but found nothing incriminating. One of my brothers, who was schooling abroad came home from the UK but he could he not travel back, so he wasted nine months in Nigeria while his colleagues were attending classes.
What did the military men tell you that they were looking for?
No one told us anything. They were probably looking for my father, who was already out of the country. It was all over the news that he kept N2bn in his house. But they did not find anything in the house. Later on, there was a report that they found about $700m belonging to my father in an account. Soon after that, another report said there was a mix-up because the money actually belonged to a woman named Chamba Mohammed. But the prominence given to the Chamba story was almost insignificant, compared to the earlier report of the $700m. Those who criticise others should come up with a solution to the country's problems when they have the power.
Would you say being Akinloye's son is a burden?
It is indeed a blessing to be his child. But during the difficult days, we knew our father's real friends and enemies. After my university education, I was looking for a job and I approached a friend who was a senior staff of a merchant bank in Lagos. He took my papers to his boss and I heard the manager asking my friend if I was not contented with the money my father had stolen and that after all, the bank paid my family for the use of a property my father owned in Lagos. I was shocked but I took it lightly. When my friend returned, I was already at the door. That was one of the burdens we shouldered for being Akinloye's children during the difficult time.
Is it true that your father won a huge amount in lottery while on exile in the UK?
It is not true. My father never played lottery even though he loved watching horse race. He did not win any lottery.
How then did he survive in exile for 10 years without an income?
That can be linked to the lottery story. When he got to the UK, he re-registered as a barrister because that was where he was called to the bar. So he was practicing, getting briefs and a few cases. In 1987, the Nigerian government sued him in England but it was dismissed and he counter-sued Nigeria, asking for damages. He won the case and was awarded £400,000 in damages. But he did not collect the money. I begged him to take the money and donate to charity but he refused on the ground that later, some people would say that he crippled the Nigerian economy by taking £400,000 out of it. That was a lot of money.
Those who said he lived on lottery in England were only curious to know how he survived. Before he became the chairman of NPN, he had business partners in Europe and they never left him alone during his period of trial.
What are the qualities that you imbibed from your father?
I cherish so many things about his life. Like my father, I wear Ankara all the time except when I have to appear in court. I served in seven committees and I was the chairman of some of them when I was in the House. I ensured that 90 per cent of what came to me was donated to the public. When I left four years after, I returned to my only bungalow in Ibadan. There is no child of Akinloye that will acquire unnecessary luxury and wealth because my father never did. We are contented but not rich.
