What Really Is Sani Abacha’s Legacy? 

General Sani Abacha became Nigeria’s Head of State through a Palace Coup in September 1993. Reports suggest that the Interim President at the time, Ernest Shonekan, was held at gunpoint and forced to resign. With Shonekan — a businessman with little political clout — out of the way, Abacha swiftly took control of the government.

The next five years under Abacha’s leadership were a complex blend of extremes — a mixture of the good and the ugly. There was no middle ground, no gray areas. His rule was marked by widespread human rights abuses, suppression of dissent, a culture of fear, and economic growth that had no impact on the citizens and infrastructural projects. 

Decades after his death, the shadow of Abacha’s legacy still looms large. Every year, on the anniversary of his death — and at any given opportunity — his descendants publicly celebrate his life and leadership, often glorifying his legacy without shame or hesitation.

For many Nigerians, especially those born after his regime, Abacha is remembered simply as a dictator. His name has become a symbol of authoritarianism. But beyond the label of a dictator, what truly defines Abacha’s legacy? Is it the economic reforms and infrastructural strides or the iron-fisted rule that left a scar on Nigeria’s democracy?

The Good

The economy was in tatters when Abacha came into office. Ibrahim Babangida’s Structural Adjustment Programme devalued the Naira and the debts spiked. Abacha inherited these woes, and oversaw an increase in Nigeria’s foreign exchange reserves, rising from $494 million in 1993 to $9.6 billion by mid-1997. The country’s external debt was reduced from $36 billion in 1993 to $27 billion by 1997. He also halted the privatization programs initiated by the Ibrahim Babangida administration and curbed inflation from 54% in 1993 to 8.5% by 1998 — all while oil prices averaged $15 per barrel. Despite these efforts, GDP growth during his tenure, though estimated to be higher than the 2.2% recorded in 1995, remained largely restricted to the petroleum sector.

In his four-and-a-half years in office, he increased fuel prices only once and established the Petroleum (Special) Trust Fund. This fund was widely recognized for its effective contributions to infrastructural development and intervention programs in education, health, and water. His wife spearheaded the establishment of what is now known as the National Hospital in Abuja. Originally named the National Hospital for Women and Children, it was later upgraded to serve as Nigeria’s premier public hospital.

In terms of infrastructure, his administration constructed between 25 and 100 kilometers of urban roads in major cities, including Kano, Gusau, Benin, Funtua, Zaria, Enugu, Kaduna, Aba, Lagos, Lokoja, and Port Harcourt.

In 1996, Abacha announced the creation of six new states, bringing the total to thirty-six and creating one-hundred and thirty-eight new local government areas. The electoral body, NECON registered five political parties to contest elections in the Fourth Republic, but all out of fear adopted Abacha as their presidential candidate.

He leaned towards totalitarian countries like North Korea, Iraq, and Libya, but still played a role in restoring peace and democracy in Sierra Leone and Liberia following years of civil war.

These are the positives that Abacha’s supporters and family members eagerly highlight whenever they attempt to defend his legacy. They point to his economic policies, infrastructural projects, and efforts to stabilize the country economically as proof that his regime wasn’t entirely bad. To them, these achievements overshadow the brutal crackdowns, human rights abuses, and stifling of democratic voices that defined his rule.

For his admirers, Abacha wasn’t a dictator but a strong leader who, in their view, brought order and discipline to Nigeria. They see his increase in foreign reserves, reduction of national debt, and construction of roads as evidence of a focused and effective administration. It’s these talking points they cling to, often dismissing the darker aspects of his regime as either exaggerated or necessary for national stability.

The Ugly

General Sani Abacha was known as a man of “few words and deadly actions,” a reputation he solidified as Head of State with one of the most brutal regimes Nigeria has ever witnessed. The cruelty of Abacha’s administration revealed itself through its harsh treatment of Nigerians and critics alike.

Abacha established the Strike Force — a lethal security unit — alongside its sister squad, the Body Guard, to fortify his hold on power. These groups were tasked with quelling any threat to the regime. According to Abacha’s former Chief Security Officer (CSO), Hamza Al-Mustapha, every regime that seeks survival requires an expanded version of the Strike Force. Composed of 75 locally trained military personnel, the Strike Force was a mobile unit dedicated to protecting the seat of power. Meanwhile, the Body Guard, which included Sergeant Barnabas Jabila (aka Rogers), received training in Libya and Korea, acting as personal security for high-ranking officials.

Under Abacha, opposing the regime became a capital offense, and many prominent Nigerians paid the ultimate price for standing against his tyranny. Through their activism, political involvement, or simple courage, these individuals became targets of a regime notorious for its cruelty.

Chief Alfred Ogbeyiwa Rewane, a wealthy businessman and prominent member of the National Democratic Coalition (NADECO), was one such victim. NADECO was founded to retrieve MKO Abiola’s mandate. He was shot to death in his home in Ikeja, Lagos, on October 6, 1995. His crime, according to the regime, was his open opposition to military rule and his support for democracy. Kenule “Ken” Saro-Wiwa, an environmental and Ogoni rights activist, suffered an equally tragic fate. He was executed by hanging on November 10, 1995, alongside eight others, following a sham trial on trumped-up murder charges despite the pleas of South Africa’s Nelson Mandela. The Republic argues that  Abacha needed Saro-Wiwa and the Ogoni activists as deterrents for those who planned on opposing his regime. His activism against the environmental degradation of Ogoniland by oil companies, particularly Shell, made him a thorn in the side of both corporate and government interests. The international community, outraged by this act of state-sponsored murder, condemned the execution, with the then-UK Prime Minister John Major describing it as “judicial murder.” Nigeria was stripped of its membership of the Commonwealth, hit with sanctions, and relegated to a pariah state.

Admiral Emanuel Olu Omotehinwa met a similar end, assassinated in his home in Ikoyi, Lagos, on May 22, 1996. His son witnessed the brutal killing by three gunmen. His association with an exiled NADECO member was speculated to be the motive behind his murder. Alhaja Kudirat Abiola, senior wife of MKO Abiola, was also murdered in broad daylight at Motorways Junction, Ikeja, Lagos, on June 4, 1996. Her assassination came as a result of her relentless campaign for her husband’s release from prison, where he was held for declaring himself president. Chief (Mrs) Bisoye Tejuoso, the Iyalode of Egba and mother of Alake of Egbaland, Oba Adedapo Tejuoso, was killed on September 19, 1996. While the exact motives remain unclear, her murder, like many others, seemed to be a calculated move to instill fear and stifle voices of influence and resistance. Alhaja Suliat Adedeji, an Ibadan-based businesswoman and politician, was similarly assassinated in her home in Iyaganku, Ibadan, on November 14, 1996. As a prominent political figure, her death sent shockwaves through her community.

The violence extended to family members of activists as well. Toyin Onagoruwa, the young lawyer and son of Dr. Olu Onagoruwa, the former Minister of Justice, was shot in front of their home in Yaba on December 18, 1996. His father’s opposition to Abacha’s draconian decrees set a target on his back.  General Shehu Musa Yar’Adua, a high-ranking military officer and influential political figure, died in Enugu prison on December 8, 1997. Convicted in the infamous 1995 ‘phantom’ coup trial, Yar’Adua was allegedly poisoned by injection — a chilling method often linked to Abacha’s death squads. Former President Olusegun Obasanjo was also jailed for the same phantom coup but escaped death as Abacha died before he could be executed. Tunde Oladepo, senior correspondent and bureau chief of The Guardian in Ogun State, was murdered on February 26, 1998, in front of his family. He had written articles critical of traditional rulers for endorsing Abacha for president. The regime also resorted to arson, targeting the homes of vocal opponents. One of the most notable incidents was the burning of the residence of Lt. General Alani Akinrinade, Nigeria’s former Chief of Defence Staff.

Even those who survived assassination attempts, like Senator Abraham Adesanya and The Guardian publisher Alex Ibru, were not spared the regime’s wrath.

The prisons overflowed with leaders who dared to resist Abacha’s junta, including Chief Frank Kokori, Senator Abraham Adesanya, Chief Gani Fawehinmi, Chief Ayo Adebanjo, Mr. Femi Falana, Baba Omojola, Chief Olusegun Obasanjo, Col. Lawan Gwadabe, Shehu Sani, Ms. Chris Anyanwu, and Mr. Kunle Ajibade. People like Wole Soyinka and Dele Momodu escaped into exile.

Despite the economic reforms made, the regime’s economic mismanagement devastated Nigerians. Abacha and his cronies looted the Central Bank to offshore accounts in Switzerland, the Cayman Islands, and elsewhere. To date, Abacha’s loot cosplays as a gift from Santa Claus. Under his rule, the country — the world’s 11th-largest oil producer — became a perpetual importer of petroleum products as all her refineries collapsed. While the economy paradoxically boomed, ordinary Nigerians saw their living standards plummet. It became common for people to resort to cooking with sawdust due to fuel shortages.

It was no surprise that when the Nigerian Television Authority (NTA) announced his death in 1998, jubilant crowds flooded the streets, celebrating the end of a dark era. While the official cause of death was reported to be a heart attack, conflicting accounts have persisted. Many Nigerians, however, choose to believe a more sensational version — that Abacha, known for his indulgence, died during a sex romp with prostitutes allegedly flown in from India.