POTOMAC MANSIONS: Finance Minister Explodes.

Written by Jonathan Elendu

Saturday, 15 October 2005

On the afternoon of October 14, 2005, I got a call from one Chi-Chi Okonjo. I didn’t know anybody by that name but I took the call anyway. Chi-Chi told me he called to express his displeasure with our story entitled, “Bayelsa Governor’s Modest Mansion in Potomac.” He is upset particularly because we published the Potomac home address of his sister, Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala, Nigeria’s Finance Minister. He stated in very clear terms that we had no business publishing the home address of the Minister as that would put her family in danger. Chi-Chi Okonjo also questioned my humanity and sense of decency. Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala   After shouting at me for a while, I asked Chi-Chi Okonjo what he wanted from me. “I demand that you take my sister’s home address off your story. I am going to put her on the phone and I want you to apologize to her.” “Is that all?” I asked. “No,” he responded. “I sent you an email; read it,” he said. “Ok…I will read your email. If you are so aggrieved with our story why don’t you write a rejoinder and we’ll publish it,” I enjoined. Chi-Chi whose anger had been simmering now exploded: “I am a writer like you. I have written articles. This is irresponsible of you. Why are you doing this? This woman has been threatened by a lot of people because of the work she is doing for Nigeria,” he yelled. The man was obviously angry and Sowore and I had been discussing a few details of an investigation we were doing. I wanted to get him off the phone as quickly as possible. “Mr. Okonjo, I don’t know if screaming at me makes you feel good. If it does, I’m glad to be of service. As to your demands, taking down our story or deleting any part of it is not going to happen. Apologizing to your sister is also not going to happen. But we’ll publish any rejoinder you send,” I said to him. “I challenge you to publish my email. Let me see if you can take criticism,” he fumed. At this point I laughed. “Chi-Chi, I am criticized everyday. It goes with the territory. But let me say this, I did not mean to put your sister’s family in danger. Sowore and I would not do that. We did not know there are kids in that house…” He cut in, “You guys don’t know the seriousness of what you have done. Here, Dora Akunyuli is here. I can put her on the phone and you talk with her!” This was getting out of hand. “Chi-Chi, I don’t have need to talk with Ms. Akunyuli. If you feel good screaming at me, that’s fine but I still don’t know what you want. I can understand you being upset because you think your sister have been endangered. I probably would feel the same way but there’s nothing I can do,” I said. “I challenge you to publish my email and give it the same level of publicity like your article.” Twenty minutes after my conversation with Chi-Chi Okonjo, we published his email to us. Not long after that somebody called and asked me to hold for the Minister of Finance. A female voice came on: “This is the Minister of Finance.  Are you Mr. Elendu?” she asked. “Yes, Madam Minister, this is Elendu Reports,” I replied. That was the last thing I said for about fifteen minutes. Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala, Minister of Finance, Federal Republic of Nigeria started a tirade. She accused our magazine of endangering the lives of her family, especially her children. “What kind of a human being are you?…How could you put my children’s lives in danger like this?…Are you not a father, and even if you are not, will you not have children someday?” she screamed at me. I tried to put in a word, but she would have none of it. “I am all alone here in Abuja. My husband and children are there. If anything happens to them you will see…I will hold you responsible,” she threatened. “Madam Minister, are you threatening me?” I inquired. “Threatening with what?…Threatening you for what?…Who are you?” she screamed. The tirade continued: “I have been in Washington for twenty-one years. If I didn’t have a house people will wonder. Why didn’t you tell them that I didn’t steal money to buy the house? Don’t you have the records? My house was built eleven years ago?” she thundered. “Madam, Minister, may I speak?” I asked. “Speak for what? I’m not here to talk with you. Is this a negotiation? You have done the damage, the least you can do is tell people when the house was acquired. I would understand if I acquired the house inappropriately. I can’t believe a Nigerian can be so cruel. Are you not a Nigerian? Are you not a human being? How can you have the heart to do this?” she screamed. “Madam Minister, it appears you called me for a one-sided conversation…” She cut me off. The tongue lashing continued, “What am I going to hear from you? No Nigerian supports what you did. Look at the names of the other people you mentioned there. How can you lump me with those people?” she queried. That’s it. I had enough! “Madam Minister, I resent you calling my office to scream at me! The truth is that we would not intentionally endanger your family. We did not know there were young children in that house…after all the same address is listed as the office of one of your organizations!” I said. “Eh…it is public information. Everybody knows that. Anybody with access to a computer can find that out. I am a public official. You can criticize me. My skin is thick enough,” she fumed. “Dr. Okonjo-Iweala, the story in question is not about you. We were not trying to impugn your integrity. It wasn’t a criticism of you. We reported facts as we saw them. I can boldly say that I am neither pro, nor anti-government. I am just a reporter. I take no sides. If we wanted to impugn your integrity we could have done so. This magazine has a reputation of not knowing any sacred cows,” I said. “I don’t care!” the Minister returned. “Criticize me if you want. What are you telling me here…who are you? Anyone can drive up to my house and get into my house…instead of you to say, “honorable Minister, I am sorry…I did not know you have children in the house”…you are here arguing with me!” She hung up the phone. This was the second time the line had cut or she hung up on me. Twice in one day, I thought, the Okonjos have screamed at me. What a day! I turned to my computer and typed: “Ngozi Okonjo Iweala” into one of the browsers we use for investigations. Email: This e-mail address is being protected from spam bots, you need JavaScript enabled to view it .

Last Updated ( Saturday, 15 October 2005 )

 

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