Untold story of my aborted Buhari appointment, by Femi Ogunshola

“Winner oh, oh, oh, winner…!”

That was the song the Deputy Director of Procurement at the Ministry of Trade and Investment sang joyfully to me the moment I finally received clearance to be inaugurated as a Board member of the Nigerian Investment Promotion Council (NIPC) in 2018.

It’s a story I’ve kept to myself for over seven years, untold, unexplained, and bottled up.
Only a few close allies had heard the sketchy version. But today, I feel it’s time to let it out.

In December 2017, I was basking in the calm serenity of my village, enjoying the cool harmattan breeze as Christmas approached.
I had returned to my village to celebrate the end of a long year and to usher in 2018.

Then my phone rang.

“Congratulations! Your name is in The Punch Newspaper, you’ve been appointed by President Muhammadu Buhari as a Board member.

You need to get to Abuja immediately!” Shock gripped me. Disbelief followed.

How did this happen? Who recommended me? Questions raced through my mind with no immediate answers.

Eventually, I discovered the source, a highly respected professor from Sokoto, whom I met during my relentless campaign for the Buhari/Osinbajo presidency in Abuja.

He had pulled the strings. But the professor, noble in every sense, asked to remain anonymous, regardless of any pressure. I gave my word, and I kept it.

There was, however, a small clerical error in The Punch publication: my name appeared as “Femi Ogunsola” without the “h”.

Others appointed alongside me included the former Deputy Speaker of the House of Representatives, Babangida Nguroje, and Mr Ahmed Sanim a highly influencer and buisness tycoon who may be reading this now.

Soon, my friend and political associate from Lagos, Adamson, got wind of the news. He quickly swung into action, urging me to begin documentation without delay.

I proceeded to the Ministry of Trade and Investment, the supervising ministry of NIPC and I was directed to the Director of Procurement.
He received me warmly and scheduled a return date.

By the time I returned, he had fallen seriously ill and had been hospitalized.

The responsibility fell on his deputy, a proactive and kind woman. She guided me through the steps of the process and gave me all necessary information.

Then came the twist.

“Do you know any Dr. Femi Ogunsola from Kwara?” she asked.

“Yes, I do,” I replied.

“There’s a problem,” she said. “He has also come forward to claim this same appointment.”

The real drama had begun.

Dr. Femi Ogunsola, now late was a serving commissioner in the Federal Character Commission (FCC), representing Kwara.
He was also a staunch member of the opposition (PDP). Despite holding an existing federal appointment, he still attempted to claim this new one.

How greedy can one man be?

A day before the inauguration, my phone rang in the early hours. It was the Deputy Director again.

“Can you come to the office early today?” she asked.

I agreed. When I got there, she asked a question that sent my pulse racing:
“Do you know the SGF, Boss Mustapha?”

“No,” I replied.

“Then who do you know at the SGF’s office? That’s the only place you can get reprieve.”

I reached out to Alhaji Lai Mohammed, my party’s chieftain and then Minister for Information, hoping for support.

Her warning was clear:
“I’m doing this because my staff has spoken highly of you.”

I thanked her deeply. But unfortunately, Alhaji Lai Mohammed failed me.

He picked my call. I explained everything. His response?

“But Femi Ogunsola is not in our party. How can he reap where he didn’t sow? Go to court and challenge it.”

Court? A day before inauguration? I was livid.

Meanwhile, Dr. Femi and his political foot soldier, who i later got to know was one (Dis)Hon. Owolabi (now a House of Assembly member), began to unleash threats on me, text messages, late-night calls, even death threats warning me to step down.

To his credit, Owolabi would later confess to Hon. Tunji Olawuyi (Ajuloopin) about their plot to rob me of what was rightfully mine, admitting they acted only because I was “unknown” in Kwara politics.

Meanwhile, in a race against time, a thought crossed my mind: Charles Folayan Femi. I reached out.

Charles sprang into action. He suggested we go to the SGF’s office. He called a contact, and soon we were sitting with the Permanent Secretary, Mr. Segun, a genuinely kind man.

I poured out my heart.

Just then, the SGF’s legal adviser strolled into the office. I explained everything again.

His verdict was clear:

“Dr. Femi Ogunsola is already a commissioner in FCC and a PDP member. He can’t hold two appointments. This appointment is yours.”

The Permanent Secretary immediately contacted the Permanent Secretary, Trade and Investment Ministry and instructed that I should be inaugurated the next day. It was around 9 p.m.

That night, emotions ran high. My team was ecstatic. We had fought a good fight.

But Dr. Femi had already contacted the Secretary of NIPC, his ally who lived in the same estate and had promised her a juicy reward.

She suddenly reversed her earlier congratulations and began to insist my name was an error.

Still, we pressed forward.

On the day of the inauguration at Nicon Luxury Hotel, my friend Abolade became my chauffeur.
Dressed in my pristine white agbada, I arrived at the venue in a sleek Mercedes Benz, a gift from my brother-in-law for the occasion.

The moment the Deputy Director saw me, she burst into song again:

“Winner oh, oh, oh, winner… Femi you don win oo!”

I smiled. Victory was here.

The ceremony began. We took the oath of office. I was finally inaugurated.

Shortly after, the Secretary approached me nervously, under orders from the Executive Director to receive me officially.
She offered to drive me in the council’s official car, but I refused, heeding my friend earlier advice.

At the NIPC office in Maitama, we held our inaugural meeting, and I was appointed Chairman of Recruitment and Establishment. We had 18 vacancies to fill across the six geopolitical zones.

Then came another betrayal.

The Secretary asked for my appointment letter, claiming she needed to correct “some errors.” I handed it over, trusting her. Unbeknownst to me, she was playing a dirty script.

Though my allowance was paid in full, thanks to the Executive Secretary
Dr. Femi wouldn’t back down. He continued mounting pressure through his network. Owolabi’s threats also continued.

Two weeks later, we were to reconvene. But then I received a shocking message from the Secretary: “Hold on until issues surrounding your identity are resolved.”

My colleagues Rt. Hon Nguroje, Sani, and Hajia from Kano were outraged. But the undercurrents were deeper than I thought.

The chemistry had changed. I was alone.

The Permanent Secretary advised I seek support from my National Assembly representatives. I did but they failed me.

The House of Reps member was indifferent. The Senator, loyal to Dr. Femi, even questioned why I would “challenge his friend.” I told him the truth:

“Your friend cheated me. He isn’t even in our party.”

When Dr. Femi visited my community during the Senator’s campaign, I walked up to him:

“I’m Femi Ogunshola, the man you robbed of his appointment. You were never in our party, yet you tried to take what wasn’t yours.”

His reply?

“Do you know how many people I’ve helped?”

That wasn’t the point, I said.

I was asked to meet with Senate President Bukola Saraki to pledge allegiance, arranged by the late PDP Publicity Secretary, Ashaolu. But I declined.

Why? I wasnt dispose to Saraki style of politics and i would never pledge allegience.

Intrigues, politics, envy, and more played out, and I had to let go. It was an eye-opener for me, showing why the old politicians refuse to give young people a chance to rise.