Adieu, Sidi H.
Ali (1938-2024)
By Wale Olaoye
Some people inspire us with their lives, others teach us a lesson with their death. In the
case of Hon. Sidi Hamid Ali, veteran journalist, politician, ‘persuader’, author and statesman, his life enriched so many narratives while his death last week diminished all who knew him.
Sidi Hamid Ali was a man
and a half; too much for
one country, not enough for
two. Restless, sharpwitted,
impulsive, perspicacious,
creative and loyal to causes
and people he believed in,
he was one of a kind. In the
almost five decades that I was
privileged to know him, he
still ranked as an enigma—
halfquestion, halfpossibility,
half-exclamation, half-puzzle
behindpuzzle. His persona
was easy to understand but if
you thought you knew him,
you would eventually find out
that you didn’t fully know him.
Gun Incident
The first thing that comes
to the mind of many people
when the name Sidi Ali is
mentioned is the incident in
the House of Representatives
during the Second Republic
when he was alleged to have
drawn a gun and thrown the
entire house into panic. What
actually happened was that a
fellow parliamentarian had
assaulted Sidi Ali (which was a
serious parliamentary offence)
and Ali had duly reported the
matter to the Speaker and
other leaders of the house. He
waited for several days for
action to be taken against his
assailant but no such action
was forthcoming.
So, he decided to teach them
all a lesson. He smuggled a gun into the legislative chambers and as soon as he saw his assailant who was conferring with other colleagues, he drew the gun. Legislators, led by the
Speaker, voted with their feet!
The assailant didn’t show up
in the house for several weeks
until he was assured that his
apology had been accepted
by Ali. Although a stickler
for rules, he was not averse
to stirring things up when
necessary.
Born in Kano in 1938, he
spent part of his childhood in
Ghana where his father, Alhaji
Sidi Ali, ran a thriving cattle
business. He started school in
Shahuci Elementary School in
1945, and in 1949 went to
Kano Middle School where
he was in the same class with
Murtala Mohammed who was
to join the army in later years
and become Nigerian head of
state.
He was sent back to Ghana
for higher education but he
was enmeshed instead in
radical politics which led to
his expulsion. He and some
of his colleagues came to
the attention of Dr. Kwame
Nkrumah who decided to
help mould them to become
useful to Africa of the future.
Nkrumah gave him scholarship
to study in the UK but the plan
didn’t work out because he did
not have an ALevel certificate,
so he was sent to New York
in the US where there was
a provision for a six-month
remedial course to make
him eligible for university
admission.
Those were the days of
momentous events in many
parts of the world. In Africa,
the Congo crisis was in full
bloom. Young Sidi Ali was
the Chairman of the Political
Committee of the Pan African
Students’ Organisation
(PASO). In that position, he
led demonstrations and was
part of the group of African
students who provided security for Cuban leader Fidel Castro
when he stayed in a harlem. The American authorities fingered him as one of the undesirables.
Journalist & Author
After bagging his degree,
he returned to Ghana but
the situation had drastically
changed as Nkrumah had
been overthrown and the ruling
military men were very edgy.
By the mid-sixties, the political
situation in Nigeria itself had
deteriorated. When Sidi Ali
returned, he had the good
fortune of meeting benevolent
seniors like Alhaji MD Yusuf
and Alhaji Ahmed Joda both
of who assisted him in getting
into the civil service.
He was in the team that
ran the propaganda machine
of the Nigerian government
throughout the civil war. His
skill as a prolific writer also
came in handy in his later
career as an author of nine
books.
Fittingly, Ali became known
as a principled politician and
uncompromising journalist. It
was his journalism that fed his
political activism.
In the run-up to the Second
Republic, he had written an
article critical of the military
and had been slammed in
prison. The prominent party
in Kano was the radical
People’s Redemption Party
(PRP) which sent two of its members Abubakar Rimi
and Inuwa Wada to coopt Ali
as a candidate for the federal
house of representatives.
His nomination form was
filled while in prison and he
eventually won the election,
representing Danbatta even
though he was from Darma in
Kano City. All that mattered
to the people was that he
was Mallam Aminu Kano’s
candidate.
When I first met Hon. Sidi
Ali, I was working in DRUM
magazine and we shared many
friends and sources together. I
used to visit him in his home
and office in Obalende, near
Dodan Barracks, Lagos.
We called him Sarki of
Obalende. He was a treasure
throve of information. We
even managed to collaborate
on a few anti-apartheid
programmes at a time when
Thabo Mbeki and his fellow
freedom fighters also had
their offices in Obalende.
Proverbially speaking, you
could say he knew where all
the dead bodies were buried.
He therefore enjoyed the
respect of fellow professionals
and, indeed, the ruling elite,
whether in uniform or in
babariga. In those pre-internet
days when every little source
was gold, Sidi Ali was the
gold mine itself.
He was a go-getter. He once
told me the story of how he
wanted to see Chief Awolowo
at his Ikenne residence but
was prevented by security
men. He then told the head of
the security that it was Mama
Awolowo he wanted to see,
not Papa. A message was sent
to Mama and she promptly
replied that Sidi was her son
and should always be given
free passage whenever he
came. With him, you never
said never.
In the 90s, Hon. Ali was a
regular visitor to my office
at Academy Press in Ilupeju
where he processed tons of
quality calendars, diaries,
annual reports and journals to
the envy of many advertising
agencies. As a devout Muslim,
he observed all his religious
obligations routinely as he
would just disappear with my
office assistant to one corner
whenever it was time for
the Muslim prayer. In all his
business dealings, his word
was his bond.
Friend & Brother
We were to link up again
when my office moved
to Abuja. He had earlier
relocated to the new capital
city. We simply continued
from where we left off. All
through his life, he remained
passionate about Nigeria
actualising its potentials. He
operated an ‘open-clock’
policy in the sense that if he
was thinking of some idea
or writing something and
needed clarification or simple
contextualisation, he would
call me, even if it was 2am!
Every EidElKabir, I
always had a full pot of ram
meat from Hon. Ali. Even
if I was in Lagos, he would
arrange for a driver to bring
my share of the sallah meat
from Kano to Abuja where
my staff would collect the
consignment.
We spoke for exactly 11
minutes and 38 seconds about
three weeks ago. We discussed his health for about three
minutes and I also had a brief
chat with his son, Osama. The
rest of the time was taken up
by political talk and a review
of the security situation in the
country. His voice was strong,
clear, and passionate. He
didn’t sound like an 86year
old man who had just three
weeks to take the final bow.
I like to remember him that
way: Pontificating, assertive,
hopeful, witty. I pray that God
gives his family the fortitude to
bear his demise.
Adieu, my detribalised
friend, collaborator and elder
brother, Mallam Sidi Hamid
Ali. Allah Ya gafarta maka,
Ya dawwamar da kai gida aljannah.
Jfworld 