Tragedy of July 7, 1998

Tragedy of July 7, 1998




In the eyes of many Nigerians and some international observers, M.K.O. Abiola was effectively Nigeria’s president-elect – their president in waiting, who vowed not to renounce the mandate, and the day he died on July 7, 1998, cannot be easily forgotten. I was a student at the University of Lagos, and it is worth mentioning that at the time I was just another potential “yuppie” on campus. At that point in history, I had not undergone the process of sociopolitical radicalisation that transformed me into Owoism – another chapter in my eventful life. The June 12 struggle played a pivotal role in my transformation, and the following events were a part of that process. 

At that particular moment, I had just entered the main library of the University of Lagos. I was greeted by a family friend who worked as a librarian, and since he knew my family history, he informed me the sad news just broke on TV. The murmuring of “Abiola is dead” increased and reverberated through the entire library. I had to compose myself for personal reasons and plan my next line of action – which was to exit the school as fast as possible. University of Lagos (UNILAG) was a known epicentre of anti-government protests under the military.  

Knowing that UNILAG students were going to go on a rampage across Lagos and shut the city down, I had to get out of the university premises before the two gates were closed for precautionary measures. Sometimes I drove to school, but I was grateful to God that I did not drive a car that day. It did not help that the university is massive, but I was glad to trek out of campus whilst watching the traffic build-up on the roads leading towards the exit. As the pandemonium unfolded, I made it outside the school gates and noticed people running to safety. The usual bustling scene by the university entrance was becoming deserted, and there were no taxis or buses available. Whenever there is a riot, there are fights, killings and looting on a large scale. A few of us who were determined to make it home decided to band together and embark on the potentially arduous journey.  

On my journey home, I encountered women being molested and raped, looting of properties and robberies, arson and burnt cars, and armed clashes between thugs and police. Ikorodu road is quite a long road and some of us made our way from the University Road to Herbert Macaulay Road, to connect Ikorodu Road at Jibowu. As we journeyed towards the Toll Gate area, our numbers reduced, but I noticed incidents at every main junction: Jibowu, Fadeyi, Onipanu, Palm Grove, Ilupeju, Anthony, Maryland, New Garage, Ojota and Tipper Garage – where I noticed some level of calm. 

During my journey, I narrowly escaped being struck by a machete-wielding thug. When I was face-to-face with the thug, and he raised his right hand to strike me, I said in Yoruba “won pa Abiola” (they killed Abiola), and as if in a trance-like state, the thug repeated the very same words I uttered – “won pa Abiola”, and I docked as he swung his machete away from me. Sadly, I heard a mortal shriek as the thug struck someone else with his machete. 

From that point onwards, I ran like my life depended on it, quite literally. I did not stop running, and as I ran, I observed people around me being assaulted with all sorts of weapons and noticed different ripped female clothing, especially underwear, strewn along the road. One of the painful memories for me was a nice chap I encountered at the beginning of the journey who informed me that he came to Lagos for some interview; I saw him get struck at one of the above-listed junctions. 

When I finally made it to my neighbourhood hours later, I met some neighbours and narrated my ordeal on my journey home. They all looked at me in bewilderment as I recounted and were glad that I made it back home safely. The irony of that day was when I pressed the doorbell and entered our house, I noticed the France 98 World Cup semi-final football match between Holland and Brazil was showing on television. One of my older brothers was at home when I arrived, and he looked at me wondering what had just happened to me, and I looked at him like: you really have no idea! On July 7, 1998, I came close to death, and was relieved I did not die on the streets of Lagos.


Excerpt from pgs 73-75 of R.O.G U.E: Reality On Ground Undermining Enterprise by M.B.O Owolowo ©️

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