"How i met a cancer striken Diezani Allison Madueke in London"-Dele Momodu

Ovation CEO Dele Momodu shared his story on ThisDay
newspaper. Quite interesting and so sad. Read:
Fellow Nigerians, let me tell you about my James Bond
stunts in this season of the sensational SPECTRE movie.
Yes. The news of the arrest of former strong
woman of Nigeria’s
Petroleum Ministry,
Mrs Diezani Alison-
Madueke in London
had hit the airwaves
like thunderbolt. No
member of President
Goodluck Jonathan’s government held the nation
spellbound like Madame Diezani. Controversy dogged
her every step just
as she spawned loads of salacious gossip. She is a
newsmaker per excellence.
For starters, Madame Diezani is a paragon of beauty.
She’s also very simple but chic and elegant in dressing
and appearance. At 54, she would give our much
younger ladies a run for their money in the prettiness
stakes. She is intelligent to boot and boasts a decent
academic pedigree. She is that hot and even her most
vociferous critics agree that she combines brains with
beauty. Add to that is her marriage to retired Rear
Admiral Allison Amaechina Madueke, a former Chief of
Naval Staff which boosted her national and political
profile.
The only problem was the almost unanimous belief that
she had abused her privileged position and
appurtenances of office in the discharge of her
ministerial duties. It was reported that billions of dollars
literally disappeared under her watch. She was under
intense heat and scrutiny throughout her reign but
seemed unrattled and unfazed by the deluge of dirt
splashed at her from every direction. She stayed
invincible and definitely unshakeable to the end.
Her firm grip on the President was palpable. It was a
subject of discussions everywhere. There were rumours
of constant clashes with the former First Lady, Dame
Patience Faka Jonathan. No one really knew the true
story. Mrs Alison Madueke did not help matters by
studiously ignoring the lurid pictures painted of her.
She rarely granted interviews and when she did, hardly
responded to the monumental gist from unrelenting
talebearers.
I always wished to have a one-on-one interview with
our own Alice in Wonderland or Cleopatra, if you like.
Such is the nature of gargantuan fables around this
mythical lady. She is the dream of every celebrity
reporter. A nice interview and some photo-shoot as
icing would be no mean achievement. There are few
women in her mould anywhere at any time.
I had studied her trajectory to determine what makes her
tick. She was born with silver spoon to the family of
Chief Frederick Abiye and Mrs Beatrice Oyete Agama in
the garden city of Port Harcourt and grew up in the
Shell Camp where she schooled and learnt to speak
both English and Dutch. She wasn’t a regular kid like
most of us. The way her life was suddenly disrupted at
Shell Camp she says would later inform her philosophy
during her time as Petroleum Minister. Her family was
unceremoniously evicted from the Shell Camp because
her father dared to question the promotion process of
Nigerians by Shell. She believes that Nigerians must
occupy and enjoy the resources God has blessed us
with and accordingly she sought to empower Nigerians
as a principle, she claims.
The young Miss Agama studied Architecture in England
and then at the renowned Howard University in the
United States where she graduated. She later obtained
an MBA from Cambridge University. She worked at Shell,
following in her father’s footsteps, and rose to become
its first female Director. The first part of her life story
ends there.
The second part begins with her stint in the government
of Nigeria where she managed several important
ministries including Mines, Works and Transport and
finally Petroleum, the chicken that lays the golden eggs.
Once she got the juiciest portfolio in the land she was
transformed from an Angel to being labelled a femme
fatale, a nomenclature that has stuck to her like flies to
palmwine. Political opponents of President Jonathan
blamed her for all the sins of omission and commission
of that Government and she really never was able to
keep her head under the parapet. This is why she is in
hot demand by reporters, local and international, alike.
Anything about Madame Diezani makes news and goes
viral. We met only once at a public function hosted by
Alhaji Aliko Dangote in Abuja. We spoke very briefly and
she was going to give me her telephone contact but a
personal aide intervened and promised to send it to me
but never did. So I missed interviewing her. I had loads
of satanic questions to ask her and was unsure of how
she would have reacted, with calm or fury, but I would
have thoroughly enjoyed that auspicious moment as I
am sure would have been my readers.
Anyway, the dream never materialised. I simply shrugged
my shoulders and moved on. After the demise of the
Jonathan government, I assumed it was goodbye to a
good story but man proposes and God disposes. I was
sitting quietly at home when the news of Mrs Alison-
Madueke’s arrest exploded like a bomb. Social media
instantly caught fire. We were regaled with tales of how
she was captured at home by the London Metropolitan
Police for money laundering running into atrocious and
unimaginable sums of cash. Some reports said she was
planning to buy a property worth billions of pounds in
London and even gave a famous address. Those who
know London fairly well immediately doubted the
veracity of such claims but anything is believable in this
season of anomie.
We were later informed by the National Crime Agency
(NCA) that arrested her, that only £27,000 pounds was
recovered and that she had been released on bail. Then
came reports that the energetic EFCC in Nigeria had also
invaded her home in Abuja and we imagined this
invasion must have been well choreographed and
perfectly co-ordinated by the governments of Nigeria
and Britain only for NCA to tell us this wasn’t so.
My interest in speaking to Madame Diezani by all means
was re-ignited. I was greatly saddened by the dearth of
investigative journalism in our clime. I remembered with
nostalgia our days at Concord Press of Nigeria, owned
by the late Chief Moshood Kashimawo Olawale Abiola. I
had a flashback to the Weekend Concord days when that
paper broke all records by publishing endless scoops
and I earned repeated accolades from my Editor, and
boss for life, Mr Mike Awoyinfa, for the manner I gained
incredible access to very important personalities and
topical news.
My dream is for Nigerian media to return to those
halcyon days and it is not too difficult to achieve. What
it takes is for us to have credible journalists who can
manage stories responsibly without using media power
to terrorise or witch-hunt anyone no matter their
personal views or political ideology. A seasoned
journalist knows that facts are sacred! Proper
investigative reporters have access to even terrorists
and rabid insurgents for this reason. However in
Nigeria, we tend to reflect our prejudices in the stories
we write. Such bias should be reserved for opinions and
editorial pages.
Back to Mrs Alison-Madueke, the more I read the
conflicting and contradictory reports the more I wished
someone could penetrate the seemingly impregnable
wall erected by our leaders to get the news behind the
news. There were reports that Madame Diezani was
battling with the much dreaded breast cancer. Not a few
said she was merely pretending in order to escape
justice. I wondered aloud how nice it would be to find a
journalist who could be trusted with this massive story
and bring us face to face with one of Africa’s biggest
newsmakers.
About the same period, I was spending sometime
seeking treatment for cataracts in London and this gave
me the opportunity to investigate the Diezani
conundrum myself. I made calls to several credible
sources including a close lawyer friend who has a solid
reputation in such matters. First, I confirmed that,
contrary to the belief that she was feigning her illness,
she was actually receiving treatment for a most chronic
and aggressive form of breast cancer. She had
undergone surgery and chemotherapy on several
occasions and was being prepared for radiotherapy.
Indeed, she had slipped into both natural and induced
coma which lasted five days on July 28, as steroids she
was receiving had inadvertently raised her sugar level
abysmally. Her doctors declared her condition a near-
miss. All my sources said it would be unfair and
unthinkable for a reporter to invade her privacy in that
state.
I believed the world deserves to hear from her, for good
or for bad, and so never gave up my dream of getting
exclusive access to Nigeria’s most talked about woman.
My tenacity paid off two nights ago as I came face to
face with Mrs Alison-Madueke at a secret location in
London. My bosom friend had called to say someone
had mentioned to her that I was critically on her case.
Madame Diezani had wondered why a known and
certified critic of the Jonathan Administration would
want to interview her but was told that despite my
opposition to their regime I remained one of the most
objective writers in Nigeria. She told my female contact
that she reads Pendulum and was impressed at the level
of maturity often displayed even when she disagreed
with my views. However, Madame Diezani was
particularly worried that even in the throes of a most
debilitating ailment, she was still being virulently
attacked by her fellow citizens.
I told my source that without being judgmental, I think
she should understand that many Nigerians believe she
and the government she served had brought untold
hardship upon the generality of Nigerians especially
through the mismanagement of the main source of
revenue in our country. She may know better than the
rest of us but it is up to her to tell her story. Those who
will believe are waiting to hear while those who won’t
may never subscribe to her defence. What is important
is for her to purge her soul and where necessary offer
sincere apologies and penitence.
I was stunned when I got a call from my contact: “are
you available to meet Mrs Diezani Alison-Madueke on
Thursday evening at a private location in London?” I
don’t know how many reporters would miss such
humongous opportunity. My response was an instant,
yes. I was told the location would be communicated to
me one hour to the appointed time. That was fine by me.

The only one I could trust to drive me on such a
mission was my wife accompanied by her younger
sister. We got to the venue almost dead on time and
scanned the vicinity. Having read too many James
Hadley Chase novels in my school days, I expected to
see some unobtrusive bodyguards around if I looked
well. I imagined I was right when I saw a dark stocky
man in suit prancing about furtively and restlessly. I
pressed a buzzer as instructed and the main door swung
open. I approached one of the elevators as directed and
headed to a particular apartment where my contact
opened the door even before I knocked, and ushered me
in.
I didn’t see my interviewee but only a fair lady, who
looked vaguely familiar. I took a comfortable position
and waited with bated breath. I was undergoing a stream
of consciousness at supersonic speed. Where is Madame
Diezani? Will she meet me or chicken out? Would she
open up or just whet my appetite for nothing? How will I
ask my satanic questions and in what order? What can I
do to make her relax and pour out her heart? Can she
trust anyone with her story in her present condition and
state of mind?
I was in this interior monologue when Madame Diezani
herself sauntered in. I stood up to greet her as she
stretched out her hand.
“My name is Diezani, the most misunderstood and
abused Nigerian…” I didn’t know whether to say yes or
no. I was perturbed and disturbed. The Diezani before
me was not the ebullient woman I used to see on
television and in newspapers. Her head had become a
Sahara desert of sorts almost totally bald with a sprinkle
of freshly growing hair all grey. She requested to sit on
a classroom chair as her back was hurting badly and
she could not sit so low. Wow, what a terrible time she
must be having, I almost screamed out but cautioned
myself. Sitting across from me was a woman who was a
shadow of herself, almost like an apparition or ghost.
I’m sure she saw the horror in my face.
I knew I had to tread gingerly so as not to ignite
trouble. I expressed sympathy about her battle with
cancer. I told her I was one of the doubting Thomases
and wished her God’s mercy and miracle having seen
her shocking state. She summarised how her ordeal
started and that moment when her worst nightmare was
diagnosed. As she spoke she belched and gasped
intermittently, a by-product of the aggressive treatment
she’s been receiving. I was visibly worried at a point
thinking she may end up in an ambulance if care was
not taken. The other lady I met earlier soon came out
from wherever and insisted we must stop but Madame
Diezani was just getting into the flow of our chit-chat.
We were told to round up in five minutes by this
chaperone.
I fired shots at her in staccato fashion and raced
through my questions. I wanted to cover enough
grounds before she returns to hospital after this
weekend. I asked about Jonathan, Chris Aire, Kola Aluko
and others linked to her in business transactions and
otherwise. She said as much as she possibly could in
the little time available and promised to say more later.
The fair lady soon returned to stop our session. I would
have been atrociously wicked to ask for more time
though I felt she was in the mood to talk. She stood up
delicately and she and the two ladies with her
disappeared into the cold night…