By Ogbuagu Anikwe
I am a bit sad to hear about a crack police sleuth who reached the top as Inspector-General (IGP). Gambo-Jimeta, according to spokesperson Garba Shehu, died on Thursday 21 January. I should however not be sad because Gambo-Jimeta didn’t die young. Born in Jimeta, Yola, 15 April 1937, he would have been 84 years exactly 84 days from his exit date!
Muhammadu Gambo, as he then was, was a courageous and committed crime fighter whose exploits with armed robbers in Lagos State dominated media headlines. The media din reached a crescendo from 1977 when he became Lagos State Commissioner of Police. It followed him to the headship of Force CID (the famous Alagbon Close) and on when he become top-dog in 1986.
He never missed a promotion, from the day he was commissioned until he became IGP at age 49. Professionalism and an eye on the top job was his game. He thought he had arrived and was settling down for an 11-year reign as Chief of Police before it all went wrong. Due to an unfortunate lie, he was unceremoniously shoved aside after six years by the military’s Maradona, Gen. Ibrahim Babangida.
Gambo was not ready to retire and therefore took his ouster badly. Consequently, he went round complaining to everyone he thought had the ears of the wily General. One fine Sunday morning, out of the blues, a popular Personality Feature in The Guardian on Sunday literally came to his. The character sketch it portrayed and the interrogation of the underlining injustice meted out to him moved IBB to restore Gambo to grace. He was reappointed as National Security Adviser.
He asked many people to seek out the reporter that bylined the feature and lead him to the new NSA office, a more powerful and, yes, lucrative office. This was how Ben Okezie and I met the first time; he persisted and practically dragged me to go with him to see the NSA. Ben was asked to wait while I “interviewed” the police strongman.
It was a short meeting. Gambo thanked me and said he had spent an awful lot of money to get someone to understand the issue and report it the way I did. What thrilled him the most was that I wrote without ever interviewing him or his friends. He asked around before arriving at this conclusion, he said. Then, he reached by his side and wheeled out a big brown envelope filled with bundles of cash, which he pushed forward.
“Here, take this,” he said, smiling like someone who had met a valuable friend.
Mistake.
I was from The Guardian, the flagship of the Nigerian press where reporters were paid an additional “responsibility allowance” to reject such offers.
I politely declined and this threw him off-balance. He attempted – once – to get me to change my mind but then abruptly gave up and offered a prayer for me instead. His next words have continued to echo in my mind: “If you’re truly a virgin as you have shown me now, then it’s safe to say you will surely reach the top of your profession.”
The Adamawa Spirit
I left the NSA office thinking I had understood the reason why he rapidly rose to the highest rank – and why he took his sack badly.
Up until this moment, I’m not sure it was Gambo’s integriry, coupled with his skills as a crime fighter, that propelled his steady, uninterrupted rise in the Force. All I know is that he also reflected what I had come to realise was a peculiar Adamawa competitive spirit and striving for excellence among officers in the police, military and paramilitary forces. I eventually went to work for one if them, formerly turbaned as Turaki but later upgraded to Waziri Adamawa. This is a story for another day.
The other thing with Adamawa achieving officers was their local rivalries, exclusively focused on their struggles for social acceptance and palace rankings by the Lamido. Another story for another day.
After his victory and restoration to favour, Gambo wasted no time before being crowned as Dan Lawan Adamawa. He invited Ben and I as the only Lagos journalists to witness the event. He asked us to come as his friends, not reporters. It was an all-expenses paid trip to Yola. And it gave me my first close encounter with the razzle-dazzle of Muslim chieftaincy coronation, aka turbaning. After that, we sort of drifted apart as I pushed forward in more professionally engaging pursuits.
Long after we drifted apart, I believe he took another title when he changed his name to Gambo-Jimeta.
I am sorry to hear about Gambo’s passing, for a few reasons. He was a great man who deliberately dropped out of the limelight and has now left the world almost unmourned and unsung. I pray for his soul. Today, as I searched for his biography online, the only Mohammed Gambo that dominated Google rankings is a footballer. I had to revise the name search by adding Jimeta before I saw the lone Wikipedia entry under his subsequently assumed name, Gambo-Jimeta.
It is the lot of all great souls. We ought to attempt to leave a lasting footprint in the sands, outside personal achievements or professional accomplishments.
Enugu Metro
