THE histrionics by Femi Fani-Kayode (FFK) as exuded in a two-page advertorial published in ThisDay edition of Sunday January 19, 2025 that dripped in inaccuracies is vintage FFK. He continued his past time of spewing bile, reliving old wounds and pitting brothers against one another all in a disguised bid to reheronize his father Chief Remi Fani-Kayode, whose tame conduct cum cowardice on January 15, 1966, was at variance with his sobriquet “Fani-Power”.
Below is the account by Colonel Emmanuel Nwobosi, the Sandhurst trained soldier, who as a Captain, led the coupists that arrested Chief Remi Fani-Kayode on January 15, 1966…
At a pre-determined point, I had the convoy stop and away from the road in a clearing. I had the men assembled. There I briefed them. I informed them that the army was taking action to end the chaos in the country, much of which we had witnessed in the West.
On that, a spontaneous cheer arose from the men and animated comments broke out, but these were immediately halted by the battery Sergeant Major that called them to order. The briefing had to continue. I informed them that we were part of a nationwide operation and that other military units in other parts of the country are simultaneously operating. I told them that we were heading out to arrest and take into custody some key politicians in Ibadan, who were responsible for directing the chaos and mayhem that had bedeviled the region. I gave further command and control instructions to the NCOs and Lt Egbikor and I had a quick tactical conference. We were to first take out the telephone exchange, that is cover. The Premier’s residence had powerful external lights and it may also be equipped with searchlights. The Deputy Premier, Fani-Kayode, nicknamed Fani-Power and the Premier, Samuel Ladoke Akintola were our targets…
Upon arriving at Ibadan, we headed straight to the P & T Telephone Exchange and ordered the few overnight operators to shut the system down, lock up and go home. They were frightened out of their wits and without even understanding what was going on complied promptly, locked up and departed the premise. We then headed to the Electricity Corporation of Nigeria (ECN) power station and did the same. The city was now in total darkness. I was mindful of the presence of 4th Battalion in Ibadan, headed by Col. Largema and knew that we had to move fast. This was their base operational and they were a full complement battalion on active internal security duty. If it ever came to confrontation, odds were heavily stacked against us. We just had speed, secrecy and surprise as our chief allies.
We headed straight to the Deputy Premier’s residence and overpowered his guards. After banging on the door and calling out on him to surrender to no avail, I had the door kicked down. We had already had some NCOs and some gunners secure the entire perimeter of the building, so there was to be no escape. After we gained forced access to the house, I shouted for Fani-Kayode to come out stating that we were Nigeria Army soldiers that he was under arrest. Cornered and knowing he had no escape and that he would eventually be extracted from wherever he was hiding, Chief Fani-Kayode’s voice rang out shouting that he was coming out and pleading not to be killed. His wife and children were wailing and pleading for his safety, as the chief was protesting his compliance with the “come out” instruction.
As Chief Fani-Kayode was being escorted towards the mansion exit, I noticed a little boy, probably about 5 or 6 years old crying and pleading for his father not to be harmed. I cannot remember the exact words now, but I still remember his distress and concern. He was saying things along the lines of “please, do not kill my daddy”. We had another urgent assignment pending at that very time, but I just could not walk past him without stopping. I went up to the little boy, stooped to the boy’s height level and gently placed my hand on his head to console him and then held him by the arms and said something along the lines of “Don’t worry, I am not going to hurt your daddy or kill him…. I promise you”. I think I remember him nodding and saying, “thank you” or “Ok”. I meant what I said. I had no plans, orders or reasons to kill Chief Fani-Kayode. He did not put up any resistance or offer any threat in a direction. Short of his high-volume protestations, he was a compliant prisoner. I was to be surprised some half a century later when a fifty-something-year-old man recalled his encounter in a newspaper interview. His name is Femi Fani-Kayode, the son of Chief Remi Fani-Kayode. He was the little boy. He is today a lawyer like his father and was a Minister for Aviation in the Obasanjo Government. His extensive interview on the January 1966 coup and the bloody and turbulent 1966 year was published by the 2nd June 2019.
I had Chief Fani-Kayode placed in the back of my Land Rover and not in the 3-ton Bedford truck as reported elsewhere. He was a high value prisoner and a person I wanted alive and not dead or beaten unconscious. I could not risk him being in a truck with 30 other ranks. It is worth nothing that some of the other ranks and NCOs were Yoruba and who would have felt most aggrieved of what was happening in their region. It would not have been wise to place Chief Fani-Kayode or Chief Akintola in the truck. After the Fani-Kayode arrest, we headed immediately for Chief Akintola’s official residence which was just a short distance away. Before we got there an understandably frantic Mrs. Kayode had called Premier Akintola to report that her husband had been taken, but I did not know at the we got there, but apparently either the exchange was not duly disabled or some of the staff snuck back after we had left and restored it to life. The phones were not supposed to be working. We had telephone exchange disabled, or so we thought. Akintola had been roused from sleep and was up from his bed by the time we got to his residence. Apparently, he did not, however, have time to flee as we arrived there within minutes and had all exit points to the residence secured. His security guards offered no resistance apparently convinced that their principal was not worth a fight with an overwhelming military force. The night was deathly quiet. No sooner than I had called out to him to come out, he opened fire with some firearm whose reporting fire sound indicated it was a submachine gun. We were slightly caught unawares but I was not entirely surprised that he had a submachine gun. I knew that he had been in possession of military-grade firearms and for some time had been receiving training at the 4th Battalion Garrison. I shouted that we were from the Nigerian Army and that we were there to arrest him. I cannot remember if I was saying this to reassure him that we were soldiers and not bandits or that I was there to arrest him and not kill him, but he seemed unimpressed and continued firing.
We returned fire at the direction of incoming shots in bursts, in between which I called upon him to give up. As the fire exchange peaked, Chief Fani-Kayode, who was in the back of my Land Rover could be heard shouting and yelling at Akintola at the top of his voice telling him to stop shooting and that his shooting would be the death of them (i.e. him and Akintola). He tried to tell him that he, Fani-Kayode, was unharmed and by implication that he too would be unharmed. I doubt that Akintola heard him or believed him if he did.
At one point, Akintola seemed to shout out that he was coming out by which time we had gained access into his house and commenced searching for him. But no sooner as I had shouted something like where are you? He opened fire from an upstairs balcony, wounding one of my men. Bombardier Samuel Adefi was lucky and lost a finger and nothing more substantial. If he was more proficient with the weapon, a submachine gun, he would have done more and possible lethal damage to us. Akintola’s fire from the balcony gave away his position and Lt Bob Egbikor and a gunner zeroed in on the direction. At some point and it was not even clear if was just Akintola or if there were multiple shooters as the echo of the automatic weapons shots and ricochet amplified the sound and situation in the confined space. The Chief, who was the Are Ona Kakanfo, did put up quite a fight. The fight, nevertheless, was clearly one-sided and Akintola was outgunned and eventually gunned down. His use of a submachine gun as his response instead of a surrender like Chief Fani-Kayode, sealed his fate. With the Premier neutralized and his Deputy in custody, my next assignment was to take the captive Deputy Premier to Lagos and assist with the Lagos operations as I may be tasked.
When we returned to the vehicles, without Akintola, Fani-Kayode surmised what must have happened. Akintola was dead. His panic increased as did the volume and pace of his pleas. While bemoaning his fate, he would berate his now dead boss and Premier for not surrendering and for firing at us. Indeed, Chief Akintola should not have fired at us. He should have surrendered. Fani-Kayode, was a model prisoner, in the circumstances. He offered no resistance other than endless pleas for his life. We were not after his life. We thereafter headed out to Lagos as planned to join our colleagues at Dodan Barracks Officers Mess for debriefing and phase II. Chief Fani-Kayode, who was Deputy Premier to Chief Ladoke Akintola was visibly shaken and feared very much for his life. He became talkative saying things like “I did not agree with Chief Akintola’s high handed actions. I couldn’t fight him from outside, so I decided to join his party and fight him from within”. Fani-Power as he was nicknamed continued trying to distance himself from Akintola and even said a few words in favour of the incarcerated Chief Awolowo. No one said anything about our coup in the vehicle, but it seemed as if concluded in his mind, that the coup or whatever was happening was a pro-UPGA or pro-Awolowo action.
As he kept talking, disturbing the silence in the vehicle from all others and competing with the drone of the Land Rover’s growling engine, quite unexpectedly there was an almighty slap to his face from that wounded Bombardier who shouted “shut up” to Chief Fani-Kayode. To this command and reeling from the shock of the slap, Chief Fani-Kayode replied “Yes Sir, I will not talk again”. I looked back and angrily asked the soldier what prompted that misbehavior and he replied “I am sorry
Sir, but this man is talking a lot of rubbish. I lost a finger; it could have been my life and this man is here talking rubbish”. The soldier, Samuel Adefi, a Yoruba man was clearly in pain and irritated by the Chief’s endless commentaries and pleas. There may have been some political anger there in his action, as most Yoruba hated the Akintola regime in which Chief Fani-Kayode was serving. I remembered the excited cheer that the man gave when I informed them of the purpose of our operation only a few hours ago. Samuel, interestingly Samuel Akintola’s namesake, was one of those who cheered the loudest. Nevertheless, I loudly cautioned him and warned him (and for the benefit of others) not to lay hands on the captive Chief again. The idea of striking a man, who was helpless (and already in captivity) and frightened out of his wits, for no justifiable reason was angering to me. I do not like bullies and I had never encouraged my men to assault civilians. In normal circumstances, I might have considered an orderly room trial some disciplinary action against Samuel Adefi, but the situation then was anything but normal.
Chief Fani-Kayode looked up at me and quietly muttered: “Thank you, thank you Sir”. It was pretty odd, to have the much older man, a senior lawyer, a national figure in politics and the Deputy Premier of the Western Region address me, a junior army officer as “Sir”, but I understood the situation that compelled this once proud and powerful politician to be so deferential to me. I did not like it but it was what it was. In a sense, I was glad that he came quietly without resistance and to this day, I am glad that I kept my promise to a little boy. We got to Lagos at about 6.30 in the morning and dropped the wounded soldier at the Military Hospital, at Yaba, to get his injury seen to and continued with our journey to Dodan Barracks.
My impression was that on arrival, Chief Fani-Kayode would be hauled into a cell with other captured politicians to begin their journey to investigations, interrogation, trial and prison; and I would debrief our senior commanders, whom I understood at the time to be Major Ifeajuna, Ademoyega and Anuforo and proceed on the next assignments. I had carried out and completed my assignment and reported to the rendezvous point. I had expected that others would complete theirs.
On arrival, we turned off Awolowo Road Ribadu Road, which led directly to Dodan Barracks, all seemed normal but as I did not see any of our colleagues at the Officers Mess, I headed for Dodan Barracks proper, the actual fortress. I was impressed when I saw soldier along the fence in defensive positions. I was happy that Major Don Okafor, the Federal Guards commander, was on the ball and had ensured the optimum security of what would have been our HQ base in Lagos.
As our small convoy approached, the gate swung open and we drove in. In front of the office area, I saw one heavy set RSM whom I recognized. I knew him when he served in Kakuri, Kaduna with the Nigerian Army Engineers when we shared the barracks with them. I did not know his name, but I remembered him well. He had very visible Yoruba tribal marks on his checks. There was also one young 2/Lt. Paul Tarfa. The RSM came to me, salute “good morning, Sir”. I responded and enquired about his commander Maj Don Okafor and he replied that he had no idea, but he quickly added “the GOC was here” Right away I knew that something was amiss. I did a quick-thinking and thought of bluffing our way out of this jam.
I said to the RSM “OK, I shall be back” and ordered my soldiers to get back into their vehicles. The RSM saluted again and said, “Sir, the GOC ordered that anybody who came into the barracks must wait until he got back”. At that my soldier cocked their weapons and were at the ready position, waiting for my command. I told them to hold it and to stand down, from the ready. As their commander, I knew better than to lead them on a pointless suicide mission. We may take care of the RSM, 2/Lt Tarfa and a few other soldiers of the Federal Guards around but how do we fight our way out of the barracks, a fortress with several hundreds of soldiers on full alert?
The massive gates had already been closed behind us. That was the end of the road for us. I knew it. What was to be our RV for consolidating our gains had suddenly become a colossal trap for us. At this time, it was difficult or rather impossible to figure out what had gone wrong. I would later be wondering what the GOC was doing issuing orders at Dodan Barracks. He was supposed to be in detention, if he was lucky or dead, very dead, if he was unlucky or resisted arrest. It appeared that he was actually very lucky, very much alive and free to roam and put our plans to ruin in Lagos.
2/Lt Paul Tarfa was to play a part in the bloody counter coup of July 29th and from what I heard, the quiet and gently subaltern I met at Dodan Barracks was ferocious and took no prisoners.
2/Lt. Bob Egbikor and I were put in one office, with a young soldier guarding us, armed with an LMG (Light Machine Gun) Mounted on a long and high wooden table. The soldier was also lying on that table behind the LMG and his right forefinger on the trigger. The door and windows were all glass and soldier made sure was always pointing the barrel of the gun at us even when we changed our positions. There was one Sgt Adiyenga who was in charge of the security detail. He was always cradling his SLR (Self Loading Rifle) as though he was carrying a baby. He seemed cool and matured, sometimes pensive. He did not speak much and seemed to speak only when spoken to. Egbikor had a headache and I told him. He responded promptly with two pain reliever tablets and clean drinking water. He responded positively when I complained about the soldier manning the LMG, telling him that pointing the weapon at us with his finger on the trigger was quite unnecessary and risky. He ordered the soldier to remove his forefingers from the trigger of the gun and not to point that same gun at us to avoid any accident.
At a point, I engaged Sgt Adiyenga in a conversation and asked why he was always looking serious and sometimes morose. He told me he was a Tiv (from the Middle Belt area of the North) and that things had been very bad for him in respect to the home. He explained that he had lost too many members of his own family as a result of the crisis and conflict there. He went on to add that his wife and some of his own children were killed. Shaking his head gently, he said that the deaths finished him, but he had to place his trust in God or something like that. I did not ask how they died or who killed them, but I expressed my sorrow and sympathies at the tragedy that befell him. For that he thanked me. I felt very sorry for him and knew that I had come face to face with a living embodiment of the pain of some of what Nigeria was going through. I remembered Major Aunforo’s angst about the army Tiv operations. As I said, I did not ask Adiyinga, how his family was killed but I could not help wondering. Were they killed by the police or by the army operating in their village and how, or were they killed by thugs of a political party? The situation in Tiv land was quite confused and complex and there were many dispensing violence, while ordinary Tiv civilians, mostly villagers were trapped in the middle. The Army and the police were sent in to clamp down and destroy the resistance and will of the UMBC supporters in Tiv land all UMBC supporters and villages and towns (which were most of the Tiv community) were technically declared rioters, insurgents and security risk. The Northern Regional government, the UMBC’s enemy was also paying, sponsoring and instigating dissent within the UMBCC strongholds and instigating clashes which then invited the police and Army to rush in to restore order, at terrible costs to the community.
I knew again that we were right in the action we had embarked on, even if we seemed to have been having some problems then. Mutiny, treason, coup, yes, we may be guilty of all these, but it helped to stop the bloodletting in our country and stop the drift to further chaos, we had done the right thing…
The GOC never came back to Dodan Barracks. We had little idea of what was going on other than an awareness that our coup had failed or was failing and we were in custody. We had no idea of what was happening in Lagos or Kaduna. A senior officer was to call at Dodan Barracks later in the day and he was not on our side. He was Lt Col Gowon, a soft-spoken gentleman, who was part of Ironsi’s counter-revolutionary actions against our coup. He had actually just returned from an oversea course and he was being assigned to replace Col Hillary Njoku at 2nd Battalion, Lagos, notably a unit listed for deployment in the West for the now aborted Operation No Mercy of the civilian regime we had just overthrown. As he came by the room where I was being held with Egbikor, his eyes lit up in surprise and he said “Emma, you?”; this is to say “You too were part of this?” He did not say anything else and he strode out. I could only give the standard” … afternoon, Sir!”, in reply. He must have gone to give instructions regarding our detention. At this time, no one there could have foreseen or imagined that the gently Colonel Gowon would become Nigeria’s second military head of state in only seven months’ time, in the aftermath of an even bloodier coup.
We were detained at Dodan Barracks for about four or five days, after which we were conveyed to Kirikiri- Maximum Security Prison. While in detention at Dodan Barracks, we had no idea of what had happened to the rest of our colleagues and could only imagine the worst as possible. How and if our coup failed, was still a mystery, Nzeogwu’s success in the North was not known to us…
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Culled From 1966: THE DARK TRUTH, AN INSIDER’S ACCOUNT OF NIGERIA’S FIRST MILITARY COUP (A Soldier’s Story)
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