AND THIS APATE CALLED HUMAN RIGHTS ACTIVISM JAMES ALABA ALABI
The clique of phrases announcing the touchy dispatches of the first three lines of Soyinka’s sprawling, arresting and delightful memoir— as assortedly described by Los Angeles Times and The Washington Post —You Must Set Forth at Dawn, summarizes the gory experience of a man whose life was not only threatened to death but also had his social existence denied, and his soul exiled from a land into which it was born by a wicked government. All for the sake of fighting a cause for and of humanity. Ditto, the sober description by then British prime minister John Major as ‘judicial murder’ of the inglorious execution and hanging of another credible human rights activist Ken Saro Wiwa (and eight others) again painted a picture of the degree of injustice and callousness of the government of Nigeria to the people for whom it was established to serve. All this expresses not only the wicked acts of a supposedly protective government but also the vibrancy and courageousness of true activism aimed at challenging economic profligacy, political oppression and social marginalization of the people by ‘their own governments.’ These activists, in defiance of their clear-cut disparate concrete strategies, have common theoretical frameworks and features that largely distinguished them, namely, objectivity of criticism, sincerity and clarity of purpose, credibility and consistency of ideas, and integrity, both personal and corporate. Either in or outside government, they constantly engaged governments, asked questions about its certain policies and comparatively tried these on the scale of history to test their plausibility and workability. To them, bringing about a just society was more expedient and fundamental than unnecessarily arousing emotions of the populace and estrange the people and the government. They adopted the method of giving a periodic analysis of government policies and check how they affected the people. At every point in time, the focal point of their struggle, which was the people, was never compromised. Hence, they tended to listen more to the people, dissect issues as they would benefit the people to which their agenda was inclined. Between the choices of seeking power and economic empowerment for personal gain and fighting the cause of the people, the human rights activists chose the latter, not because their life, welfare and political power did not matter but because they realized that history, defined in the way of George Herbert Walker Bush, is a book of many pages, each of which must be filled with acts of hopefulness and meaning for humanity. Would Saro-Wiwa not have taken to the street to protest unapologetically the decisions of the government to increase electricity tariff when power supply is dwindling and a number of houses are unmetred? What would have been the reaction of Gani Fawehinmi at a time like this when Nigerians for the first time would elect and have a resolute President who is ready to fight corruption? Would the satirical sword of Soyinka in his hey days have laid idle comfortably in his bedroom when the Chief executive of the federal government is running an almost a one-figure moralist government, a style that may ricochet? Would the poetic pen of Achebe despite its alienation have allowed the reintroduction of the inexplicable cash on transaction (CoT) to have a stay? Ironically, it is incredibly interesting to know that the unpopular military totalitarianism, that spanned a period not less than three decades, offered the humanity in Nigerians ample opportunities to stand for a cause in which it believed. The days of military, though replete with conflicts and unavoidable political unrest were however days when Nigerians were truly human, not because the governments accorded them their rights but because the people had genuine superior on-behalf-of voices who could fight their cause. The people understood that their being human implied being able and ready