For a memoir that doesn’t reveal any new facts, it exposes a man torn by the weight of his role and how he embraced it. Perhaps more than any military head of state before or after, Babangida displayed a fatalistic obsession with being liked and viewed fairly which politicians are expected to possess. This is why he was comfortable receiving visitors from the literary community, even though Mamman Vatsa, his childhood friend and fellow army officer, had to die (pp. 210). This explains why he considers himself a mourner of Dele Giwa, despite the failure to conduct a thorough investigation being his government’s responsibility (pp. 205). This also accounts for his claim that he did not mandate Nigeria to become a full member of the Organization of Islamic Cooperation, yet he failed to rescind it once informed (pp. 215). Furthermore, it clarifies why he states that without his ‘knowledge or prior approval,’ the ‘June 12’ elections were postponed and subsequently annulled (pp. 274-275).  

This suggests that perhaps Babangida was not truly in control of his regime. He was reportedly outflanked multiple times by officers and Abacha, seemingly struggling to manage his officers in the aftermath of the election annulment. Controversially, A Journey in Service depicts Abacha as a convenient villain and seeks to portray Babangida as an innocent witness to these historical events. Conveniently for the narrative, Abacha is unable to present a defence, but this is sad as it indicates that this journey failed to yield significant lessons. It appears Babangida managed his regime like a politician and swiftly became a lame duck, suggesting that many of these policies and projects were fated for failure from the outset. Surely, someone as intelligent and tactful as Babangida would have recognized this and made the necessary corrections. Certainly, Maradona would have feinted here and dribbled again to deliver a stunning goal. Unfortunately, we do not have the 1986 phenom who gave us the ‘Hand of God’ but rather the 1994 version who was sent home early–ironically reflecting the eight years of Babangida’s regime.  

The least controversial aspect of the book is a clear tribute to Maryam Babangida, the woman who redefined the concept of a Nigerian political spouse. His reflections on their marriage, her legacy, and her contributions illustrate that he is indeed capable of profound introspection and thought. It is worth noting that she remains insulated from the caricature of the modern first lady, who is often portrayed as either power-hungry or inept. It is an interesting comparison that, while the man was constantly vilified and blamed for everything, according to his account, his wife maintained her popularity and would likely still rank highly in a list of first ladies. A welcome confirmation would have been if Asaba were truly named the capital of Delta, rather than the more well-known Warri, in deference to her hometown. 

In a 1995 TELL Magazine interview, reproduced in the book, Babangida states that despite his best nickname being ‘The Evil Genius’, it is a contradiction because you can’t ‘simultaneously be a genius and evil’ (pp. 353). This raises the question of what it means to be considered evil. Is it ambition? Is it politicking? Is it the foreboding sense of his survival? Although these questions are admittedly beyond the book’s scope, they provide cause for further reflection.  

A Journey in Service demonstrates the tragedy of Nigerian leadership, demanding so much, yet not deemed worthy of the deft devotion it deserves. It falls again with a rushed epilogue where Babangida could have used the successful transition run by childhood friend Abdulsalami Abubakar as a comparison point. Did the generals want one of their own? Were they outmanoeuvred by the unexpected nature of Obasanjo’s cull of officers who had held political office? Was it just fatigue from decades in power? These thoughts could have helped with reflecting on the 2023 elections after the election of only the third Nigerian leader to similarly will himself into power. Like Babangida and Abacha, Bola Tinubu sought the presidency with an actual plan and agenda and has gone about reshaping the presidency in a way that will likely be unrecognizable when he’s done; for better or worse. It is possible that the tragedy was that Babangida needed fatigues when he could easily have made it with a babariga.  

Despite living long enough to be the villain, the coterie of personalities, politicians and private sector prefects present at his launch would suggest he has lasted even longer to now rewrite his own narrative. This reflects a society that remains at odds with answering questions, owing to a national consensus that the questions are safer than the answers. With more leaders accepting to document their experiences in power and hopefully offering more reflections, we may see a revaluation of that consensus⎈