By Reuben Abati

Fanfare of drums, wooden bells; iron chapter;

And our dividing airs are gathered home.

This day belongs to a miracle of thunder;

Iron has carried the forum

With token gestures. Thunder has spoken.

Left no signatures: broken

Barbicans alone tell one tale the winds scatter.

- Christopher Okigbo, Path of Thunder: Poems Prophesying War (1968)

Peter Enahoro’s father, Asuelimen Okotako Enahoro had written in a letter to him at Government College , Ughelli: “I do not want a mediocre in my family. Even if you choose to become a thief steal something big so people may say of you, he’s a thief, but what a rogue!” (p.105) The younger Enahoro’s life would seem to have been guided all through by this admonition, evidenced by a determination to do everything in a big and dramatic manner, backed by immense talent and a great capacity for distinction and survival. His collection of satirical pieces, How To be a Nigerian (1972) is considered a Nigerian classic, but his latest book, the 743-page Then Spoke The Thunder (presented in Lagos on December 1, and in Abuja on December 7), the publication of which is supported by GT Bank, is an amazing tour de force, a classic in its own right. In it, Peter Pan tells the story of his life and times in the past 70 plus years, its twists and turns, from his princely beginnings as the descendant on both parental sides of illustrious men of royal valour and two diligent parents who brought up their ten children with strong instruction in values, tradition and Christian piety, to a life-time career as a journalist that is no less distinguished and eventful.

This is Peter Pan in his most expansive flight as a recorder of events. It is not difficult to see why more than five decades later, he is still highly regarded for his terrific pen: a pen that has taken him round the world, into exile, to some of the exotic haunts across continents; a pen that has brought him both friends and enemies in high and low places alike, and which has brought him close to danger, despair and tragedy. Peter Pan says this is not an autobiography but that is precisely what the book is. It is his view of the coin of African, Nigerian and world history; his life as he has lived it, the fact that it is an ongoing life notwithstanding. With this publication, Peter Pan should have immense cause for self-congratulation; if he had not written it, we probably would not have missed it, but now that he has written the book, given its scope and flavour and extraordinary literary value, it would have been a sad loss if it was not written. Enahoro’s narrative is sustained by the staying power of his sturdy and lyrical prose, his sharp memory, attention to detail, and his deft deployment of the raconteur’s multiple devices.

It is most appropriate that this book has been published in the run up to the 50th anniversary of Nigeria ’s independence, and more than 50 years after many African states made the transition from colonial rule to independence. From the royal roots of the Enahoro lineage, the encounter of his ancestors with British colonial rule, Lord Lugard’s imposition of an artificial country up to the golden moments when Nigeria was a decent society, Enahoro sketches the Nigeria of old with its proud citizens, and decent schools and communities, all the way to the moments of gradual failure and eventual collapse. His riveting description of the “Gathering Clouds” in the 60s conveys a descent into anomie, the failure of the professional political class, and Nigeria’s intelligentsia, the destruction of esprit de corps in the military, the rise of ethnic and sectional sentiments, rank corruption and how a country which was once held up as the pride of Africa, became like the other failing states across the continent in the 80s and 90s.

The tragedy of Nigerian nationhood looms large in this narrative, but in spite of that tragedy and the various occasions in which Peter Pan, and members of his family, the Igbos, democratic rule and Nigeria itself show up as victims of that tragedy, the author remains bound to the land of his birth by the force of destiny. But this is not just about a struggle with the native land, and conversations with it, Peter Pan’s canvass covers the African continent and beyond: his many travels particularly in Africa . He offers interesting profiles of African leaders and insights into the roots of underdevelopment in post-colonial Africa in Ghana , Uganda , Ethiopia , Tanzania , Liberia , Libya , Sierra Leone , Gambia , Congo , and so on. But Peter Pan is not always fair. He is a man whose prejudices are as strong as his convictions and he does a poor job of displaying his prejudices. He should be prepared for many of the targets of his cynical conclusions or their descendants insisting on their right of reply. He is kind to those he considers his friends, notably members of his family, particularly his parents and his brother, Tony whose stardom is a recurrent refrain, Wole Soyinka, Sam Amuka Pemu, J. P. Clark, Christopher Okigbo, Don Abili, Fred Egbe, Henshaw Olawale Danmole but he is brutally unkind to those who may have offended him or those he considers pretenders in the corridors of history.

His version of Bini and Yoruba history and the connections between both, his commentaries on Emmanuel Ifeajuna’s character and his role in the January 1966 coup, Walter Ofonagoro, Chief Ike Mokelu, General Olusegun Obasanjo and the Daily Times, his put-down of Julius Nyerere (he dismisses the famous Nwalimu as “a hypocrite”), his account of his relationship with Raph Uwechue, and his justification of his opposition to Chief MKO Abiola and support for the annulment of the June 12 Presidential election could stir more than the hornet’s nest, even as he suggests that he is “setting the records straight” (p.412). Whose records? But taken together, Peter Pan’s assessment of the leadership crisis that Africa has had to endure since the exit of the colonial authorities rings true. This is the account of an observer-participant, an outsider with more than a close inside-connection. It is in many ways Peter Pan’s own way of getting back; there is much self-accounting, a review of previously held positions and honest admission of his own inconsistencies, and “a degree of naivety” (p. 244), and a little settling of scores, subtle and not so subtle, as well as a re-interpretation of received truths and official history, both colonial and post-colonial.

Regret however: Peter Pan directed that Emmanuel Ifeajuna’s handwritten account of the Jan 15, 1966 coup in his possession be burnt and he is unable to fully recall its contents. The adopted style of telling it as he sees it, and the courage to be brutally frank was the hallmark of the Peter Pan column, but it was also what led to his problems with the military authorities who came to power in July 1966, and the beginning of his many years of exile. When the thunder struck, Peter Enahoro found himself in its path, and long before the NADECO route became famous he opted for it. He conveys in graphic detail, the madness that seized Nigeria in 1966, culminating soon enough in the civil war and his role physical and intellectual in it all, and how military intervention, corruption, and loss of innocence prepared the grounds for the floundering of Nigeria all through the years.

Peter Pan describes himself as eclectic in his philosophy, you can add radical, progressive and non-communist, and although his world oscillates between Roman Catholicism, spirituality and ancestral worship and traditions, there is no mistaking the ironies of his own life, the twists and turns that have turned him into a perpetual wanderer. He sounds in his Peter Pan column as having supported military intervention in the General Aguiyi-Ironsi months, but he soon fled when the Northerners took over in July 1966, then as an exile he showed sympathies for the Biafran cause, but he would in the future return to serve the military and accept positions under a military government; he would in one breath express support for democracy and federalism, but under other circumstances he defends the annulment of an election that was universally adjudged free and fair. But placing his cards face up, Enahoro does not spare himself either.

This is also as well, a journalist’s story well told. “Success as a newspaper columnist has its show-business glamour but journalism has its cruelty”(p. 227). Quite apt, and the author’s journalism career, which defines his life fully, and at every turn, illustrates this in great detail. We are reminded reading him of the role of both the media and the intellectual in society. His quotations from the Peter Pan column and the combination of fame and anguish that it brought him indicate just how delicate and risky the business of public affairs analysis could be. Peter Pan was the candid and prophetic columnist, the oracle of his time, and one of the most original promoters of the power of the pen.

Both man and persona became intricately fused, and whereas Peter Enahoro went on to become an international author and journalist: Deutshe Welle, African, New African and founder of Africa Now, he is highly regarded for his power of analysis. His great talent is an open tribute to the education system of old, in a country where the school system has virtually failed, and his likes are now in short supply. Peter Pan tells the stories of the Daily Times, of publishing an African magazine from abroad, and the intrigues of journalism practice, in a manner that they have not been previously told. It is again ironic that he was part of the Daily Times at the height of its glory, and also Sole Administrator in the winter season of the once great institution. There is no mistaken the manner in which the story of the Daily Times parodies the story of Nigeria itself; the failure of the latter so painfully reflected in the collapse of the former. Daily Times was a victim of the lack of enlightenment of the military elite and its own internal contradictions.

There is however one point with regard to Peter Pan’s journalism; he describes himself as being non-partisan but there is no doubt that he enjoyed an unusual closeness to authority figures and actually revelled in it; this rather than his brother, Tony’s politics probably accounted for the attitude him towards in certain official circles. How much distance should a journalist keep between himself and the subjects of his reporting and analysis? So much display is made of dinner at Presidential palaces, officially arranged trips to parts of the world, a flight being delayed on one occasion to await the arrival of the great Peter Pan, receiving “one half of a slaughtered ram and a large hand-woven Fulani cloth …” from the Sardauna of Sokoto, being a Guest of the Premier, phone calls to Babangida, private meetings with Aguiyi-Ironsi, Abacha and other world leaders.. In other circumstances, this could raise questions about objectivity and professional ethics: to wit – how much intimacy should exist between the Fourth Estate and the Establishment. Nonetheless, Peter Pan comes across as a defender of press freedom; but the more important value are the unmistakable lessons that younger journalists can learn from the details of his career as international correspondent, editor, columnist, author and media entrepreneur, and the vagaries of journalism practice.

Peter Pan has played a significant role in the development of journalism as role model and mentor and as reference point in the history of Nigerian journalism, but his account of exile is of a different flavour from similar accounts, even if he pays attention to racism and the complex nature of human beings. Sustained as he was in exile by his talent and cosmopolitan outlook; his is not the exile of beggarly dreams but a consciously sustained choice. He writes about the journey of his own becoming, linking the past to the present, and the private to the public in various dimensions, and through memorable characters that crossed his path and humorous circumstances, his own joie de vivre and many travels and interviews, he reawakens interest in those pertinent questions: Quo vadis Nigeria ? Quo vadis Africa?, never ever losing sight of that question forever posed by his mother: “Don’t you know who you are?” The author of Then Spoke the Thunder leaves us in no doubt that he surely knows who he is, and in reading him, we discover a sense of humanism, of family values, and strands of the stories of our own lives. Reading the book may require some effort considering its length, but the reader will not be disappointed, every page along the way.