Editor’s note: In his regular column for This Day Dele Momodu, a renowned Nigerian journalist, publisher, businessman and Ovation International magazine owner, recalls his experience of interviewing the controversial minister from Jonathan’s past administration Diezani Alison-Madueke. The author notes that she rarely granted interviews, but when she did, Diezani hardly responded to the monumental gist from unrelenting talebearers.
Read the abstract of the article below:
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 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 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…
Details on This Day.
No comments:
Post a Comment