Alamieyeseigha: The Sacrificial Hero of the Ijaw Nation

 

By Professor Steve Sinikiem Azaiki, OON

A Life That Defined a People

There are men whose lives become symbols of the struggle of a people — whose sacrifices transcend their personal stories to define an entire generation’s quest for justice, identity, and recognition. Chief Diepreye Solomon Peter Alamieyeseigha, fondly remembered as the Governor-General of the Ijaw Nation, was one such man.

He was not merely a political leader; he was the embodiment of the Ijaw struggle for dignity, inclusion, and equality within the Nigerian federation. His life was a chronicle of courage, service, and sacrifice — and his story, complex and compelling, remains deeply intertwined with the destiny of his people.

Today, as the Ijaw Nation and friends of justice across Nigeria gather to honour his memory, we do so in reverence to a man who willingly became a sacrifice so that his people could have a voice. Chief D.S.P. Alamieyeseigha’s life was a continuous struggle — for equity, justice, and democracy. His triumphs and tribulations are deeply woven into the tapestry of Nigeria’s political evolution, and his journey stands as both a lesson and a legacy.

The Paradox of a Hero

To those who did not know him, Alamieyeseigha’s story might seem contradictory — the story of a man both loved and misunderstood, praised and persecuted. To understand him, one must recall the parable of Che Guevara.

When Guevara was captured and betrayed by a shepherd, one of the astonished soldiers asked the shepherd, “How could you betray a man who dedicated his life to defending you and your rights?” The shepherd replied, “His battle against the enemy frightened my sheep.”

That is the story of Alamieyeseigha — a man who fought for his people, who gave his all, and yet was betrayed by the very system he sought to humanize. His courage unsettled the comfortable, and his sacrifices were misunderstood.

In early 2024, during a visit to the residence of Mr. Gilbert Chagoury, our conversation—after the usual pleasantries—drifted towards the subject of Bayelsa State: its development, progress, governance, and the ambitions that shaped its destiny. In the course of our discussion, the name of Chief Diepreye Alamieyeseigha came up. What Mr. Chagoury revealed aligned perfectly with what Alamieyeseigha himself had often told me, both privately and publicly. According to Chagoury, “Steve, Alamieyeseigha was instrumental to the creation of Bayelsa State. In those days leading to its creation, he came to see me with a document—a memorandum—which he wanted me to help present to General Sani Abacha. Fortunately for him, Abacha visited my residence that very night. During dinner and afterward, we discussed the merits of the Ijaw people having their own state. At the end of the discussion, Alamieyeseigha presented the document to Abacha and Gilbert Chaugoury said, ‘General, won’t you approve it?’ Abacha reached into his pocket but found no pen, so he asked his orderly to call his ADC to bring his green pen. Then, with that pen, he wrote on the document: ‘Bayelsa State approved—local government notwithstanding.’ Some weeks later, under persistent pressure from Alamieyeseigha, I asked General Abacha about Bayelsa State, and he confirmed to me that he had indeed approved it.”

A Visionary Beyond Politics

In my unpublished autobiography, I recorded a moment that revealed the depth of his vision. In London in 2004, I asked him directly, “Who will you hand over to as governor? People say you will hand over to T.O., your cousin, and Captain Mathew Karimu.”

He looked at me and said calmly, “I am handing over to my Deputy, Dr. Goodluck Ebele Jonathan.”

That was Alamieyeseigha — decisive, clear-minded, and self-assured. It was not about kinship or control; it was about continuity and trust. History later beckoned,  Dr. Jonathan became Governor, then Vice President, and eventually President of Nigeria.

Also, in my forthcoming autobiography, I have the opportunity to mention some of the many things Chief Diepreye Alamieyeseigha shared with me over the years. However, for the purpose of this piece, let me briefly recall another particular conversation we had regarding the 2015 Presidential Election. Alamieyeseigha told me that he had gone to see His Excellency Atiku Abubakar, GCON, former Vice President of Nigeria and then Presidential Candidate of the All Progressives Congress (APC), to inform him that he would stand firmly with President Goodluck Jonathan and would not support his candidacy. It is important to note that Alamieyeseigha and Atiku Abubakar were close friends, and there are deeper stories surrounding their relationship—particularly a discussion they had during Atiku’s visit to him in Yenagoa in 2003—which I intend to reveal in my autobiography. When I asked Alamieyeseigha what Atiku’s response was, he said Atiku told him, “It will not stain our friendship, but I expected you to say exactly that, because that is who you are when it comes to the Ijaw nation. I also understand and respect your long-standing loyalty and convictions.”

The Courage of a Soldier and the Heart of a Statesman

One of the earliest glimpses into his true character came in 2001. I accompanied Governor Alamieyeseigha to a meeting with six other governors. After the formal session, conversation drifted to politics, and suddenly, Chief Timi Alaibe’s name came up. Alaibe was the young, brilliant, and charismatic Director of Finance at the Niger Delta Development Commission (NDDC), then newly created by President Obasanjo.

One governor advised, “Do not allow Timi Alaibe to become Managing Director. He will fight you for the governorship of Bayelsa State.” The others agreed.

Alamieyeseigha said nothing for a while, but I could see the storm behind his calm expression. Then he turned to me and said softly but firmly, “Steve, can you imagine? For the first time, an Ijaw man will be Managing Director — and I, Alamieyeseigha, should stop him? God forbid that I do such a disservice to the Ijaw Nation.”

That was him — a man of conviction and courage. A soldier by training, but a humanist at heart. He believed that every Ijaw man’s success was the success of the collective.

Leadership by Sacrifice

His leadership was never about self-interest. On another occasion, he recommended me to the then NDDC Chairman, Chief Onyema Ugochukwu, for appointment as Bayelsa’s representative and Director of Agriculture and Fisheries. I attended the interview and did well. Chief Ugochukwu even told me at a dinner in London that my appointment letter was ready. But later, things changed.

When I complained to Governor Alamieyeseigha, he explained, “Steve, I was advised by the Managing Director that Bayelsa will benefit more if we swap the Director of Agriculture for that of Works. Forget the NDDC — it is in the interest of the greater Bayelsa and the Ijaw Nation.”

He sacrificed personal relationships for collective good. That was his creed: The Ijaw Nation comes first.

The Art of Forgiveness

Alamieyeseigha’s capacity to forgive distinguished him more than anything else. When his relationship with Chief Gordon Bozimo soured, many thought reconciliation was impossible. Yet, when Dr. Helen Bozimo — Chief Bozimo’s wife — passed away, Alamieyeseigha rose above political grievances.

I met him at the Port Harcourt Airport and persuaded him to visit Chief Bozimo’s residence immediately after landing. He paused, thought deeply, and said, “Fight is fight, but this is death. ADC, we are going to Chief Bozimo’s house.”

That visit stunned everyone and became the beginning of their reconciliation. For Alamieyeseigha, no rift was too wide for forgiveness.

The same grace was extended to Chief Francis Doukpola, his political rival who had challenged him up to the Supreme Court. On Doukpola’s birthday, Alamieyeseigha agreed to Port Harcourt to surprise him. The visit ended years of bitterness. That was the man’s gift — healing divisions where others saw only enmity.

The “Journey of Death”

Then came one of the most defining chapters of his leadership — the 2004 Sangana crisis. In November 2004 Bassan youths had seized an offshore oil platform, taking six  foreign oil workers hostage. The situation drew international attention; presidents and ambassadors were calling President Obasanjo to intervene.

Alamieyeseigha, then in London, cut short his trip and flew back to Nigeria. From the airport, we went straight to Brass, and then to Sangana. The only available boat could take just four people — two pilots and two passengers. He asked Chief T.K.O. Okorotie to step down and turned to me: “SSG, you are coming with me.”

The sea was wild, the waves monstrous, yet he was calm. “We are doing this to salvage the image of the Ijaw Nation,” he said. “We may die here, but my only regret is bringing my SSG on this suicide mission.”

We returned with the hostages freed and alive. President Obasanjo later wrote him a personal letter:

“Your efforts and determination to free the hostages and bring them safely to land have earned Nigeria and our government a place of pride in the comity of nations. Our nation owes you a debt of gratitude.”

That was Alamieyeseigha — a man ready to die for the dignity of his people.

The Builder of Minds and Futures

Education was his passion. He believed that intellectual liberation was the key to true freedom. Through his DSP Special Scholarship Programme, hundreds of Bayelsans studied abroad in Medicine, Pharmacy, Engineering, Agriculture and the Social Sciences.

In 2002 during preparations for a visit to Russia, Ukraine, and Belarus, he asked me to nominate elders to accompany him. I deliberately included his fiercest rivals, hoping to bridge the state’s political divides. When he saw the list, he asked, “SSG, is there a plan to assassinate me overseas?” I explained my reason — peace was essential for development.

He was silent for a while, then said, “They are all my people. One destiny.”

On that trip to Moscow, he signed a contract with Russian engineers to build a 60-megawatt power plant for Bayelsa. Three turbines were brought to Yenagoa, one was installed at Imiringi, and two were to be installed at Gbarain. Later, the two turbines were moved to government house because their was an attempt to steal them. The turbine parts and accessories were shipped to Nigeria, in 21 containers at Onne Port. But before installation could begin, tragedy struck — his removal from office. The project died with his government, but the vision endures.

Fighting for Resource Control and Minority Rights

Beyond development, Alamieyeseigha was a voice for justice and equality. He championed the cause of resource control — the right of Niger Delta people to benefit from their God-given resources. He fought to make Nigeria acknowledge the Ijaw as the fourth largest ethnic nationality and the largest oil-producing group in the country.

He was both a warrior and diplomat, blending the militancy of struggle with the wisdom of leadership. His message was simple: equity for all, marginalization for none.

The Grace to Forgive — Again and Again

His forgiving heart was legendary. Even after surviving an impeachment attempt by the Bayelsa House of Assembly early in his tenure, Alamieyeseigha told me he bore no grudges. Also, in 2005, Alamieyeseigha was impeached. When the same Speaker, Rt. Hon. Peremobowei Ebebi later lost a parent, Alamieyeseigha ignored numerous voices urging him to stay away. “I have forgiven everyone,” he said — and he attended the burial.

That act spoke louder than any speech. It was his way of teaching that true strength lies not in vengeance but in forgiveness.

In November, 1999, barely 5 months in office Alamieyeseigha faced of the greatest challenge of his government, Youths agitating for resource control were demonstrating and some how some youths hijacked the campaign and it snowballed in to conflict and violence. On November 4, 1999, an armed gang killed seven Nigerian policemen in the community of Odi. Five other policemen were killed in subsequent days. President Obasanjo wrote to Alamieyeseigha, threatening to declare a state of emergency if those responsible were not apprehended within two weeks. Obasanjo ordered shoulders to move in. Odi was leveled. The rest is history. The truth is that Alamieyeseigha himself a former Military officer condemned the killings of the policemen but had a huge battle with President Obasanjo on the handling of the Odi crisis, Alamieyeseigha stood by his people condemned the Federal Government of massacre of Odi. This was to mark Alamieyeseigha dawn as a revolutionary that must be stopped at all cost even at the beginning of his first tenure as governor.

Another story that Chief Diepreye Alamieyeseigha personally debunked concerned the sensational media claim that he had disguised himself as a woman to escape from Britain. I was in London during those difficult days and met with him. At the time, I advised him that the only reasonable option available was to pursue his case in court to its logical conclusion. He agreed with me, which was why I was utterly shocked when I later saw him in Yenagoa. When I confronted him about it, he explained that the British authorities viewed his situation as largely a Nigerian political matter and, therefore, chose to look the other way as he left the United Kingdom.

Years later, while working with Professor Ambily Etekpe,  Chief Ivory Fekoru and others on his biography, we decided to revisit the question of how he managed to leave London under the close watch of British security agencies, knowing that he was wearing an electronic monitoring device and was under constant surveillance. Alamieyeseigha repeated exactly what he had told me upon his return to Yenagoa during that crisis—that the British authorities deliberately turned a blind eye.

To this day, neither the British Government nor its Embassy in Nigeria has officially refuted or clarified that account. Given Britain’s renowned technological sophistication—its advanced surveillance systems, biometric tracking, digital monitoring, and strict immigration and border controls—it is almost inconceivable that anyone standing trial, fitted with a tracking device, and under judicial monitoring could simply vanish from the country without detection. For such an individual to reappear in Yenagoa, Nigeria, under those circumstances, remains one of the most intriguing and controversial episodes in the political history of that era.

The Final Testimony

Ten years have passed since his death, yet his presence remains alive in our hearts and history. Chief D.S.P. Alamieyeseigha taught us that leadership is not about privilege but sacrifice; not about power but purpose. He lived and died for a cause greater than himself — the emancipation and unity of his people.

To his children, his wife, his relatives, and the Ijaw Nation, I say: let us not bear grudges. Alamieyeseigha’s journey was divine — a mission ordained by the Creator for the survival and pride of our people. His suffering was not in vain. It was the price of awakening.

Let us now heal, forgive, and unite — for that is what he would have wanted.

Eternal Legacy

Chief Diepreye Solomon Peter Alamieyeseigha will forever be remembered as a man of courage, conviction, and compassion. He built institutions, empowered minds, and stood unflinchingly for justice. His legacy calls us to greatness — to live by forgiveness, unity, and love of community.

He was not merely a governor.

He was a visionary.

He was a patriot.

He was the sacrificial hero of the Ijaw Nation.

Rest on, our Governor-General.

You lived for us — and through us, you live still.