The release of A Journey in Service, the long-awaited memoir of former Nigerian military ruler General Ibrahim Babangida, has reignited debates about his legacy and the motivations behind the book. The memoir, which reflects on Babangida’s years in power, has drawn mixed reactions from scholars, journalists, and political analysts, with many questioning its depth and sincerity.
Speaking at The Toyin Falola Interviews, a prominent intellectual forum held virtually on Sunday, veteran journalist and former senator Babafemi Ojudu criticized the memoir, describing it as a “tortured book” from a troubled mind. Ojudu, a longtime critic of military rule and a former political detainee under Babangida’s regime, expressed skepticism about the former leader’s sudden decision to write a book after previously insisting he would never do so.
“I have visited him twice since he left government, and he always insisted he would never write a book,” Ojudu said. “The question is: what changed?”
Ojudu highlighted Babangida’s controversial decision to annul the June 12, 1993, presidential election—widely regarded as the freest and fairest in Nigeria’s history—as a defining moment of his legacy. “You can imagine the kind of global image he would have cultivated if he had allowed June 12 to stand,” Ojudu remarked. “But he annulled it, and that decision still defines his legacy today.”
He further criticized the memoir as a defensive narrative that lacks genuine reflection. “The book does not offer the kind of honest reckoning many had hoped for,” Ojudu said. “It feels like something written under pressure rather than an authentic engagement with history.”
Political analyst Wale Lawal echoed Ojudu’s sentiments, suggesting that the memoir is more about managing perception than setting the record straight. “This is not about truth-seeking,” Lawal argued. “It is about shaping how Babangida is remembered before others define his legacy for him.”
Lawal noted that Babangida’s political career was built on strategic ambiguity, earning him the nickname Maradona for his ability to outmaneuver opponents. However, this same ambiguity, he said, has made it difficult for Babangida to defend his legacy. “When he was in power, being elusive worked for him. But outside power, it has made his legacy harder to defend,” Lawal explained.
Professor Moses Ochonu of Vanderbilt University provided a historical perspective, likening Babangida’s memoir to what Achille Mbembe describes as Africa’s mode of self-writing—an attempt by political figures to influence how they are remembered. “There is always anxiety around legacy, especially for leaders whose rule was marked by contradiction and controversy,” Ochonu remarked. “Babangida understands that history is not just recorded; it is shaped. This book is his way of shaping it.”
Veteran journalist Azubuike Ishiekwene also weighed in, arguing that Babangida’s selective storytelling raises more questions than it answers. “A memoir is as much about what is omitted as what is included,” he observed. “This book carefully avoids deep engagement with the most contentious moments of his rule.”
Ishiekwene specifically pointed to Babangida’s claim of being a champion of press freedom, despite a history of media suppression during his regime. “This was a government that shut down newspapers and detained journalists,” Ishiekwene noted. “It is difficult to reconcile that reality with the version of events he presents in his book.”
The release of A Journey in Service has sparked a broader conversation about accountability, historical memory, and the role of memoirs in shaping public perception. While Babangida’s supporters may view the book as an opportunity to reframe his legacy, critics argue that it falls short of addressing the complexities and controversies of his rule.