By Evaristus Bassey
And so all I cared to know about the late Governor Suntai was that he was from a poor state called Taraba but managed to build an airport because he wanted to fly in a private jet straight from Jalingo to Abuja, a venture which eventually triggered his demise, as he crashed the plane he was flying and managed to survive in a very sorry state until his death! As the Catholic Bishops Conference of Nigeria planned to hold its second plenary for the year 2017 in Jalingo I became a bit apprehensive, since as one heading an agency of the Bishops I would have to join the Conference as well. My anxiety was predicated on the fact that three years earlier, we had dispatched a team to bring relief materials to displaced persons in Taraba, and they took a fair share of fifteen hours to make the journey. With Boko Haram insurgency, some of the shorter routes were not passable for security reasons, therefore, those who had to go to Jalingo from Abuja had to do so through an Isreal-like journey, made more tortuous by the very sorry state of Nigerian roads.
It was going to be my first time in this part of the country. Though I had heard of the Mambilla plateau and all the potentials of this region, it wasn’t a place I ever looked forward to visiting because Nigeria leadership lacks the vision of developing infrastructure based on forward-looking diversification from oil to tourism.
I was delighted then when I learnt that Overland had started scheduling flights to Jalingo thrice a week. The Catholic Secretariat of Nigeria managed to negotiate a fourth flight as our departure for the Bishops’ conference wasn’t on any of the scheduled days. After an extra two hours of wait, we flew at about 17,000 feet above sea level and landed safely in Jalingo one hour twenty minutes later. I was extremely grateful to late governor Suntai for establishing the airport, for sparing me the unnecessarily long and circuitous journey by road. I prayed that his soul may rest in perfect peace.
I loved the hills, the sparse savannah vegetation, the unhurried air of business that I saw, as we drove to our accommodation. We were quartered at the St. Charles Borromeo Pastoral Centre, Jalingo, a hospitality facility owned by the Diocese of Jalingo. I was surprised at the quiet decency, the adequateness, and yet the simplicity of the facilities. I was embarrassed for myself, because back home where I come from, the church in all its years was yet to own something as simple and yet edifying.
The basic instinct I have about politicians is to disbelieve them. And so when at the official opening ceremony Governor Ishaku Dickson of Taraba was on hand to welcome the Bishops, using the occasion to sell his achievements and making a boast about being called “Baba Cucumber” because of his greenhouses, I made a mental note to check this out before I left. I would not just sit there and listen to another politician tell lies. And so when the Bishops had a closed-door session, I took the chance to go to town. My local colleague in Jalingo Fr. Bakari was on hand to assist.
What he said about the city changed my perspective on Suntai. According to Fr. Bakari, Suntai could be said to be the father of modern Taraba because he was wholehearted in bringing development to the state by the infrastructure he established; of course the airport, roads around the city, opening up new areas, the State University etc. Suntai was loved because he made money available to contractors and monitored the work himself. In his time many people became rich, according to Fr. Bakari, because he paid and you delivered the job. I felt guilty as I realized I may have had a notion of him that was not true to his actual perception by those who should know. But then was I to blame? The average Nigerian politician had no sense of the common good; while it was quite okay to have self-interest in politics, the Nigerian politician had only selfish interest. So how about the present governor? I asked. ‘Well… He is not seen as generous with money as Suntai, maybe because of recession. He insists on the work being done before you are paid and politicians don’t like that. They like someone who just gives them money.’ So I pushed to ask if he was seen as someone that is obviously corrupt, and the answer was no.
As we drove past the state university, we stopped by to see the greenhouses. We were allowed in after a call to the assistant project manager. And then, there they were, an array of white beautiful ‘tents’, each occupying a space of half a hectare, each devoted to a different crop. I have always seen greenhouse from a distance. It was amazing. But why a greenhouse when there is all this land? I asked Mohammed the soil scientist. ‘Because you could produce crops at controlled environment. The exact quantity of water, the nutrients, the heat level, everything is controlled to appropriate measures.’ I saw rows and rows of lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, which I was told could supply the entire nation. The lettuce is planted and harvested within one month. As I chatted with the governor later in the evening when he had a reception for the Bishops, I sincerely expressed my admiration for the well thought out and coordinated effort. He says he bought tomatoes at Shoprite and swore to produce tomatoes for the entire nation. I wished more governors would get angry and do the work they conscripted our votes to do, for I sincerely believe Governors are the cause of our backwardness. As I prepared to leave Jalingo, I knew there was at least one good thing in Taraba.
Fr Evaristus Bassey serves at the Catholic Secretariat of Nigeria, Abuja