Emmanuel Bello
In a way, late Governor Danbaba Danfulani
Suntai was trying to teach Taraba people and
Nigerians lessons in leadership, conduct and
power relations. Did we learn? Did we even know
the lessons he taught? For it is never enough to
mourn such a soul and forget what he
represented in his mortality. And I’m pretty sure
that if Suntai were to plan his own funeral, he
may not even be bothered about the razmatazz.
But he sure would be concerned to know if
anyone learnt anything from the exemplary leader­
ship he gave. So did we learn? Or were we busy
castigating the dear man to hear him out? Did
we read between the lines or looked beyond his
frailties to sense he was a good, kind-hearted
individual?
 Some people said Suntai was a difficult man
who loves to intimidate those around him. And
yes, he could be scary at times, especially when
he threw up tantrums. I recalled our first
meeting with him when we were sworn into his
cabinet. It was an intimidating setting in a new
environment. Some of us were new to the hallo­
wed ambience of the EXCO chamber with our
new shining pictures on the wall. The governor
himself was seated, almost imperially on the
seat. His usual calm demeanour was both attrac­
tive and awe instilling. The room was quiet with
the air-conditioning machines humming. The
governor had just finished his speech and
wanted us to comment. No one was willing to be
the first speaker. Then, out of nowhere, Mr.
Wanapia raised his hand. Illiya Wanapia was the
tell-it-as-it-is commissioner of finance at the
time. We all leaned forward to hear what he
would say. Tapping the microphone for
assurance as we love to do in Nigeria, he said,
“Your Excellency. I’m really grateful for this
opportunity. My only problem with you now is
this your vibration. When you are angry, you
vibrate a lot and that can be really frightening.
So please reduce your vibrations.”
Deafening silence followed. It was Suntai who
broke it by bursting into one of those hearty
laughter of his. We all chorused along. He was a
stern man no doubt. But that may be because
he wanted to teach us a lesson in firmness. Was
he too rigid? Was he unyielding and unbendable?
Did his stubbornness become his Achilles heels?
These are stuff for debates now that he’s gone.
But he was firm. A leader should be firm,
focused and determined. Suntai wanted to teach
that.
Late Suntai was taciturn. He didn’t talk much.
He was all Mr. Action and less words. His
meetings were always quick as a result of this.
In selecting a team, all he would do would be to
gather stakeholders, ask for names, determine
their suitability and, pronto, a decision has been
made. No dilly dallying. No beating about the
bush. For Suntai, records are all that mattered.
You were often compensated for the job you did.
He was the ultimate reward system leader. You
only reaped where you sowed. He was teaching
us the value and virtue of hard work. And the
sweet reward for good service. That way, Suntai
was dealing a blow on lethargy and the en­
titlement mentality. With him, you were not
entitled to anything you didn’t deserve. Did we
get that lesson?
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State
He taught us to shun the world. Now, no human
being detested praises more. In a state full of
petty power brokers who measured their stride
by the praise they get, the ululations of men,
Suntai was to shock people. He simply said “No”
to praise singing. This was new and almost re­
volutionary. Mundane as we were, not many
people understood this one. I had to ask him one
time why he did not want to be given awards.
He said, “when I’m out of power, let me see if
these awards will still come.” He hated “eye or
lips service” or any form of hypocrisy. He was
teaching us lessons in humility, candour and
forthrightness. Did we pick that up? Are those in
leadership today at whatever level prepared to
shun materialism, empty idol worship from their
constituents and embrace truth no matter how
brazen?
An enduring lesson he taught us was that of fear
of God. And love for mankind. This could be a
latter day development for the pharmacist turned
politician but Suntai truly feared his maker and
had tremendous faith in Him. This made him fear­
less. He liked to say that when God endorses
you, it doesn’t matter if the entire human race
rejects you, you would still win. At the
campaigns, he told packed audiences that if they
rejected him but God wanted him, there is
nothing they could do about it. And vice versa.
He said he wanted to be elected by God first. He
shunned the endorsement and acceptance of
men and actually tried to discourage it. For a
politician who should be going gaga over human
acceptance and testimonies, Suntai was iconoc­
lastic. He said divine approval was all that
counted. Was he over stepping his bounds? Was
he making nonsense of the Chimney scripture
that said “the voice of the people is the voice of
God”? He turned the saying on its head.
No write up can adequately exhaust the lessons
late Suntai taught us as a people. If I have my
way, an annual memorial lecture must be insti­
tuted to continue the conversation the people’s
governor started with the Taraba people. Indeed,
a man passed this way and left his giant marks
behind. This is my final tribute to my boss, my
leader and my lesson teacher.