The Big Conspiracy: The Travails of a Progressive Safety Regulator in a Not- So-Progressive Aviation Industry

By Folasade Odutola

Aviation safety is of global concern. This book is about one person's experience as a non-hypocritical safety regulator in a challenging environment. The author has found her amazing career experience interesting to share. The hazards of playing politics and being hypocritical with safety regulation are clearly reflected in this book. From the human angle, it shows the ugly face of office politics and power play and their detrimental effects on those at the receiving end. The rather slow pace of progress in the aviation regulatory entity since the author's ordeal and her subsequent forceful retirement is a lesson in why responsible authorities shouldn't be cutting their noses to spite their faces.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: May 20, 2013
• ISBN: 9781481722230

Folasade Odutola

Born on the 9th June 1953 into the Saba Chieftaincy family of Lagos Island, Nigeria, Folasade Odutola had as paternal grandmother, a gifted woman from the house of Gbonka, the renowned Ife warrior. Her maternal great, great, grandmother was a daughter of King Dosunmu of Lagos. Her father was a banker who had previously had a go at boxing, law enforcement duties and tutoring, even if only for a brief period of time. With a teacher-cum-seamstress as mother, education was and remains a most valued commodity in the family. After enjoying the free good-quality primary education available in her time, her academic performance made it possible for her to obtain scholarships for further studies up to undergraduate level. In 1977, she obtained a first-class BSc (honours) degree in aeronautical engineering from Glasgow University, Scotland, UK. Her professional career began with a one-year compulsory national youth service, which she performed in the Development Section, Engineering and Technical Services Department of Nigeria Airways, the defunct national-flag air carrier. Her post-graduate education was later sponsored by her employer, the Federal Ministry of Aviation (FMA), which she joined in August 1978 as a pupil airworthiness surveyor. She obtained an MSc in air transport engineering from Cranfield Institute of Technology (now a university), Cranfield, England, UK. She served the FMA and its parastatals for over two decades, performing regulatory duties covering safety and economic aspects of aviation, with more than 80% of her years in service spent on safety matters. She rose to the post of Director, Airworthiness and Operations Standards at the inception of the Nigerian Civil Aviation Authority, which she was forced to leave in July 2001. In January 2004, she was appointed to the post of Rector/CEO of the Nigerian College of Aviation Technology in Zaria, Kaduna State. She left this post in May 2007 to take up an appointment (on secondment) as Director, Air Transport Bureau at the International Civil Aviation Organization Headquarters in Montreal, Canada. Her secondment from the Federal Civil Service came to an end in November 2011.

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© 2013 by Folasade Odutola. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 05/01/2013

ISBN: 978-1-4817-2221-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4817-2222-3 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4817-2223-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013904421

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

DEDICATION

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

ACRONYMS/ABBREVIATIONS

PROLOGUE THE NIGERIAN CIVIL AVIATION AUTHORITY

CHAPTER 1 And The Chicken Came Home To Roost

CHAPTER 2 Hypocrites All!

CHAPTER 3 They Plotted And Planned

CHAPTER 4 And The Plot Gets Thicker!

CHAPTER 5 The Toll Of The Bell

CHAPTER 6 The Final Acts

CHAPTER 7 The Litigation

CHAPTER 8 What Goes Round Must Come Around

CHAPTER 9 Fighting Dirty (The Roforofo Fight)

CHAPTER 10 My Travails

CHAPTER 11 How Safe Are We Then?

CHAPTER 12 That Thing Called Corruption-Any Way Forward?

CHAPTER 13 Random Thoughts—Life Thereafter

CHAPTER 14 Progress? What Progress?

CHAPTER 15 End Moves

EPILOGUE

REFERENCES

ANNOTATED EXPLANATORY NOTES

OTHER NOTES/DEFINITIONS

POST-SCRIPT

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to my husband, Sola, my children (‘Bisola, ‘Seun, ‘Tayo and Eni-itan) and my parents, whose steadfast affection and support saw me through my ordeal and enabled me to retain my mental stability.

It is also dedicated to all victims of executive inebriation.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

My acknowledgements go to all you wonderful people out there—some known and some unknown—who stood by me, whether briefly or constantly, in my time of extreme distress. Your kind words and deeds lifted my spirit when I was down.

To those who stuck out their necks for me by treading where angels feared to walk, I say a big thank you. I include those who warned me of the impending doom, and those among my officers who believed in me and what I stood (and still) stand for, and who thought nothing of keeping in touch to ask after my welfare. This they did in the face of threats from the incumbent minister of aviation, who said she would deal with anyone she suspected of teaching me those actions I was taking to get redress for the injustice meted out to me. Most of them I cannot mention by name for obvious reasons, but they know who they are. May God bless them all.

Prominent amongst these people were my former bosses, who I just have to name: engineers M.M.A. Agbabiaka and B.A. Obadofin. The latter was the first to speak out in my defence—and promptly too—at a time when others quavered in fear of the repercussions of doing such a thing. It was the former who came boldly to bear witness for me in a law court. May his gentle soul rest in perfect peace! In taking those actions, they both gave little thought to their own self-interests. Mere words cannot express my gratitude.

I should thank once again the few who have remained steadfast to date as well as those whose loyalty ended where their personal interest began—such is life, as I know and very much understand. As for my foes who ganged up in this big conspiracy, my thanks should not be out of place. May you be rewarded abundantly! Last but not the least, my gratitude to Marissa for the edits, dearest Seun for the cover image and wonderful Lanre and Kola for my picture.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Folasade Odutola was the Director of Airworthiness and Operations Standards in the Nigerian Civil Aviation Authority up to July 2001. She was Rector/CEO of the Nigerian College of Aviation Technology from January 2004 till May 2007 when she left to take up an appointment as Director, Air Transport Bureau of the ICAO, in Montreal, Canada, until November 2011.

ACRONYMS/ABBREVIATIONS

PROLOGUE

THE NIGERIAN CIVIL AVIATION AUTHORITY

Since time immemorial, humans have been fascinated by the art of flying. From the primitive attempt of the mythical Icarus with his waxed-on wings, to Zeppelin’s airship and the Wright brothers’ Flyer, aviation has progressed in leaps and bounds to become one of the "decisive developments of the 20th century".(1) Even now in the 21st century, the story of aviation continues to be one of success. Although on this side of the globe, most children may not yet be able to "take planes as easily as their parents travelled by train," (1) aviation still touches everyone’s life one way or the other.

Modern aviation has become an extremely complex global system of interaction between human beings and machines—a system for transporting passengers and cargo around the world. The global interest in the regulation of civil aviation is therefore not surprising. There is no gainsaying the fact that universally accepted and implemented standards are essential for safe and efficient international air transportation. It has indeed been stressed that without such uniform rules and procedures, aviation would at best be chaotic and at worst unsafe.(2)

Those familiar with the technicalities of the aviation industry know that the International Civil Aviation Organization, ICAO, is the global regulatory authority for this peculiar industry. Its inception can be traced to a conference held in Chicago towards the end of 1944, where a new set of rules for international aircraft operations was agreed upon by participating states. This set of rules, now known as the Chicago Convention (on International Civil Aviation), brought the ICAO into being. The ICAO sets the standards for international civil aviation activities.

At the time of writing, 191 states are signatories to the Convention, and they are referred to as ICAO member States or Contracting States to the Convention, of which Nigeria is one. There are 18 Annexes to the Convention, and serious consideration is being given to the 19th. These Annexes contain Standards and Recommended Practices (SARPs), which are universally accepted by the ICAO contracting (sic)[member]States and cover all operational and technical aspects of aviation, including many facilities and services required in support of international aircraft operations. Collectively, they form the basis for the safe and orderly development of international civil aviation.(2) ICAO gives two prerequisites for the introduction of a regulatory system, which will in turn ensure the fulfilment of a State’s obligations, as provided for in the Convention on International Civil Aviation. These are (i) "the provision, in the basic aviation law of the state, for a code of air navigation regulations and the promulgation thereof; and (ii) the establishment of an appropriate state body referred to as the Civil Aviation Authority (CAA), with the necessary powers to ensure compliance with the regulations".(3)

In 1988, at the instance of the Honourable Minister of Aviation of that time, Nigeria held a Seminar on a National Aviation Policy for the first time. One of the invaluable recommendations that came out of this seminar was a recommendation that "a Nigerian Civil Aviation Authority should be created as a parastatal of the Federal Ministry of Aviation (FMA) with statutory powers to discharge economic and safety regulatory functions in the aviation field and which should also be responsible for the provision and operation of the National Air Traffic Services jointly with the Ministry of Defence."(4)

Consequently, and in line with one of the above ICAO prescriptions, the Nigerian government created the Federal Civil Aviation Authority (FCAA) in late 1989. Hitherto, responsibility for safety oversight and implementation of other ICAO SARPs, procedures, practices, etc. was that of the Civil Aviation Department (CAD) in the Federal Ministry of Aviation (FMA).

Sadly, on 31st August, 1995, in what was termed a reform of the aviation industry, the fledging FCAA was declared scrapped, and we, in the industry, were back to square one. In one fell swoop, the National Air Traffic Services (NATS), and Aero Telecommunications (Aerotels) Departments of the FCAA were yanked off the regulatory body and joined in what I would rather call an unholy wedlock with the Nigerian Airports Authority (NAA), and this amalgam was named Federal Airports Authority of Nigeria (FAAN). At the same time, the safety regulatory part was made to function within a department created in the FMA and named the Directorate of Safety Regulation and Monitoring (DSRAM), while the Air Transport or economic regulatory part was merged with a related department in the FMA, which was renamed the Directorate of Economic Regulation and Monitoring (DERAM).

Like a rudderless ship, DSRAM drifted aimlessly for a while before it could find its right bearing, and not surprisingly, considering the so-called reform had literarily wiped out the whole generation of qualified, highly trained senior staff who had worked in the Safety Services Department (SSD) in the defunct FCAA. There had been no consideration at all for the implications of this action, and no thought whatsoever had been given to how the vacuum would be filled. The immediate former managing director of the NAA, a civil engineer with no regulatory experience who himself had just been reformed out of office, was deployed to head DSRAM, a terrain with which he was obviously not too familiar. Admittedly, he tried his best to make use of available human resources, but things were hardly as they should be in terms of effective leadership in those areas of utmost importance to a safety regulatory entity. In particular, there was a palpable lack of the strong leadership needed to co-ordinate regulatory activities effectively in the key areas of airworthiness, flight operations and personnel licensing.

It took almost half a decade before the government could be persuaded to re-create a civil aviation authority. This led to the birth of the Nigerian Civil Aviation Authority (NCAA) in May 1999, as a parastatal under the Federal Ministry of Aviation, by the outgoing military government. In parallel, another aviation parastatal—namely, the Nigerian Airspace Management Agency (NAMA), was also created from the two defunct FCAA departments, NATS and Aerotels, which had been merged with the NAA to form FAAN in 1995. However, it was not until 1st January, 2000, that the NCAA took off in effect. It was charged with the responsibility for safety and for a measure, I would say, of the economic regulation of the Nigerian civil aviation industry.

In order to straighten the records, it is pertinent to add at this juncture that (as will be shown later) appointments made to key posts by the outgoing military government in May 1999 were nullified by the incoming civilian government. The NCAA’s organisational structure was subsequently tweaked a bit, and the new posts were advertised, vied for and filled.

It happened that in the immediate post-FCAA era, adverse reports were received from time to time that cast aspersions on the standard of safety regulation in Nigeria. Apart from grumbles from within, we fared no better on the international scene. Notable among these reports were those from the United Kingdom (UK), which led to the famous Nigerian-UK aviation imbroglio, a diplomatic row of sorts. It apparently started in the UK with the ramp inspection of a Nigeria Airways DC10 in December 1996, and of a Nigerian cargo plane belonging to a private operator (Merchant Express Aviation Services) in January 1997. By May 1997, the UK Department of Transport had written to Merchant Express declaring, ". . . in the light of a number of safety problems which have arisen recently with Nigerian aircraft and which call into question the ability of the Nigerian authorities to fulfil their safety oversight obligations under the Chicago Convention, the Department has decided to issue no further permits for the operation of Nigerian-registered aircraft". It was further stated that ". . . Ministers have decided not to grant any further requests for permits for flights by Nigerian-registered aircraft until it can be demonstrated to their satisfaction that such aircraft are safe and that minimum ICAO safety oversight standards are being exercised . . . . But it may be that we shall need the assurance of some form of independent safety assessment of the Nigerian safety oversight system, such as can be provided under the ICAO Safety Assessment Programme, before Nigerian-registered aircraft can again be permitted to fly to the United Kingdom . . .".

With this, Nigeria Airways—the national flag carrier at the time, and the only Nigerian airline on the Lagos-London route—could no longer offer air services to the UK. Nigeria promptly retaliated.

It was not until the first week of December of the same year that comprehensive talks were held between the two sides. These talks encompassed bilateral air services agreement (BASA) and safety issues. Sometime after the conclusion of the said talks, relationships were normalised, and flights between the two countries by their respective flag carriers were allowed to resume. However, Nigeria Airways was to remain handicapped for quite a while due to other reasons.

At the time, some of us in DSRAM (particularly its Airworthiness Division) had realised our limitations and deficiencies, but we were somehow helpless and only able to make whatever little contribution we could individually, either directly or in the form of recommendations to our superior officers. The higher authorities seemed to know there was something wrong and were eager to do something about it so as to remove the tag of incompetency with which we had been labelled. This assertion was to be further confirmed as it was later gathered from the overall head of DSRAM that as far back as 1995, Nigeria had asked for an ICAO Safety Oversight Assessment.

In fact, well before the celebrated UK/NIGERIA air services talks, arrangements were being made for some DSRAM officers to visit ICAO with the aim of familiarising themselves with its safety oversight programme, which was voluntary at the time. The visit took place within ten days of the talks and entailed, among other activities, discussions with the ICAO officers involved in the programme. It enabled the Nigerian officers to have a better appreciation of what the programme was all about and to learn how to adequately prepare for it. The officers were to be informed that the ultimate objective of the programme was to assist states that were experiencing difficulties in the implementation of certain Annexes to the Convention, as discussed below. As it happened, I was one of the four DSRAM officers who paid that visit, the others being my superiors.

At this juncture, a short narration of the antecedents would not be out of place. Prior to the establishment of the defunct FCAA, safety regulatory (oversight) functions pertaining to aircraft operation (i.e. the implementation of Annexes1, 6 and 8) were performed in the main by the Air Registration Branch (ARB), an airworthiness regulatory entity, in conjunction with a licensing unit. Let me quickly add that, at the time, Annex 6 (Operation of Aircraft) implementation revolved mainly around the administration of technical and air law examinations taken by pilots as a licensing requirement. It is noteworthy that airworthiness surveyors/inspectors handled all examinations (technical and on the air navigation regulations) for licensed aircraft maintenance personnel. They also handled technical examinations for pilots. The entities involved in safety oversight had functioned within the Federal Ministry of Aviation in its various forms as it was merged with and demerged from several other ministries over the years.

Upon creation of the FCAA towards the end of 1989, safety oversight functions were inherited by its Safety Services Department (SSD). The FCAA fully recognised the need to further expand the frontiers of safety regulation beyond airworthiness activities, and a Flight Operations Division was formed to share the responsibilities of safety oversight with the Airworthiness Division. Flight inspections were commenced in earnest with the Flight Operations Division making use of designated inspectors and authorised flight examiners. A number of experienced pilots were seconded to the FCAA from Nigeria Airways to assist in this endeavour. The flight operations inspectorate which was on ground subsequent to FCAA’s scrapping in 1995, was disbanded and re-structured in 1997; with the activities involved being performed through designation by DSRAM, of pilots from some airline operators, to carry out flight operations inspections on its behalf.

Great efforts were also made to improve upon personnel licensing functions. In this regard, the licensing unit which was mainly secretarial in function: preparing licences and keeping records of licence holders, had, before the FCAA was scrapped, taken on the responsibility of administering technical examinations for pilots, and air law/regulations examinations for pilots and aircraft maintenance personnel.

One of the most important achievements of the SSD was the publication of requirements for Air Operators Certificate (AOC), in line with ICAO SARPs. Efforts were made towards the enforcement of these requirements, and AOCs were issued to some operators. Furthermore, prior to the demise of the FCAA, its management had thought it essential (albeit with promptings from ICAO) to review the country’s compliance status with the SARPs in order that ICAO may be notified of differences, if any. A committee in which I was fully involved had been set up for that purpose but was unable to achieve much prior to the scrapping of the FCAA.

Now, safety oversight is a responsibility of the individual ICAO member state. It is a function by which a state ensures the effective implementation of the safety-related SARPs and associated procedures contained in the pertinent Annexes to the Convention and related documents. By the early 1990s, concerns had grown internationally in respect to safety of aircraft operation and, by inference, to adequate safety oversight by aircraft’s state of registry. This was to become a topic of a number of ICAO Assembly Resolutions, and the concern gave birth to the ICAO Safety Oversight Assessment Programme (SOAP).

The original safety oversight programme was approved by the ICAO Council on 7th June 1995 following the Resolution (39/13) made at its 29th Assembly in 1992 to implement it. This programme was to be later endorsed by the 31st session of its Assembly, and it became operational in March 1996. Initially, the programme was an assessment, on a voluntary basis, of a state’s compliance with the SARPs, as set out in Annexes 1 (Personnel Licensing), 6 (Operation of Aircraft) and 8 (Airworthiness of Aircraft). If deficiencies were found during an assessment, short-term assistance in the form of advice from the safety oversight team would be made available on request by the state. The outcomes of assessments were then kept confidential by the ICAO.

Soon after commencement of the voluntary programme, in the course of various assessments that were undertaken by ICAO, numerous deficiencies were detected in the establishment of effective safety-oversight programmes of some of its member states. The need to heighten the attention given to global aviation safety thus became apparent and led to the convening of a Conference of Directors General of Civil Aviation in November 1997. It was at this conference that a resolution was made to change the mandate of the safety oversight programme.

On 6th May 1998, the ICAO Council approved the establishment of an ICAO Universal Safety Oversight Audit Programme (USOAP). This approval was issued following Resolution A32-11 of the 32nd Session of the ICAO Assembly. The USOAP thus replaced the SOAP and came into effect on 1st January 1999. The new improved programme incorporated, as its core function, "regular, mandatory, systematic and harmonized safety audits" carried out by ICAO, which "shall apply to all" its member states. Initially, the USOAP, like the SOAP, covered the aforementioned Annexes 1, 6 and 8 of the Chicago Convention. The audits have since been extended to other safety-related Annexes. However, unlike the SOAP, the ICAO’s final report of an audit is not confidential.

By the time of the Nigeria-UK face-off, the country had sought ICAO’s assistance in respect of its safety oversight responsibility, and by the second week of February 1998, a mission "to review the progress achieved by Nigeria in its effort to implement the ICAO standards and to advise on ways and means to correct deficiencies, if any . . ." had taken place. I gathered later that the mission should in fact have been accomplished in December 1997 but for the tight schedule of the officer involved—as well as those of us in DSRAM that were also to be involved. The mission was carried out between the 9th and 13th of February, 1998, by Captain Moustafa Hoummady, the then Technical Officer, Operations (ICAO Dakar Office). It was to serve as part of the ICAO Western and Central Office mission programme established for the continuing assistance to states in the implementation of ICAO Standards and Recommended Practices particularly in the OPS field (Airworthiness; Aviation Medicine; Personnel Licensing and Training; Operations; and Accident Investigation and Prevention). By June 1998, a copy of the report on that mission had reached DSRAM. It contained, in the main, observations, noted deficiencies and action agreed on each deficiency. The report was to help DSRAM, in no small way, in preparing for the SOAP, which came up later that year.

The voluntary assessment was carried out between 30th November and 4th December 1998 by a team of ICAO assessors comprising Mr. Roy Barnett for airworthiness; Capt. Moustafa Hoummady, who was covering licensing and training; and Capt. Gerhard Pettersen, who handled flight operations. The assessment report pointed out deficiencies and made appropriate recommendations. It is interesting to note that most of these were on airworthiness. An action plan for rectification of the deficiencies was required to be drawn up by DSRAM and executed within the time frames it proposed. The ICAO would normally comment on an action plan and then agree or disagree with the proposed timeframes for execution.

Soon after this assessment, DSRAM faithfully made an action plan, which it pursued till safety oversight responsibility was transferred to the NCAA at its inception. The latter naturally had to take up the gauntlet, and by the end of year 2000, the heat was on the NCAA to get a re-assessment—now an audit—and obtain both a favourable report from the ICAO and a favourable categorisation by the USA’s Federal Aviation Administration. The impetus for this sudden burst of pressure was the unbounded desire for Nigeria Airways to be able to operate air services to the USA. Now, the USA had—and still has—its own programme called the International Aviation Safety Assessment (IASA) Programme, which it applied to any state whose operator desired to provide air services in and out of the USA.

It has been observed since the commencement of the ICAO assessment, and later the audit programme, that as a general rule, states (especially developed ones) are not comfortable with or would rather not have foreign operators providing air services into or out of their territories, unless the states of those operators have had a favourable assessment or audit from ICAO. The government of the day, much like previous and later governments, placed a high premium on aviation and had always been desirous of an improved image of this industry, hence the need for positive action. Thus, Nigeria eagerly awaited the ICAO to audit her. It is noteworthy that until sometime in September 2001, the directorate of the NCAA in charge of aircraft operational safety issues was the Directorate of Airworthiness and Operations Standards (DAOS). Therefore, an ICAO audit of Nigeria was, to all intents and purposes, an audit or assessment of DAOS activities. The same could be said of the FAA assessment, which, by the end of year 2001, had not actually taken place.

So it came about that all hands had to be on deck in readiness for the ICAO audit and FAA assessment. Of major concern were our out-dated regulations, which had to be modernised. In addition, inspectors’ handbooks had to be prepared, AOC had to be issued on merit to operators of commercial air transport, and inspections of aircraft and aircraft operators had to be intensified, etc. In fact, all the deficiencies pointed out during the 1998 assessment had to be addressed fully, as promised, in the action plan for their rectification, which we had sent to the ICAO. Consultants, both foreign and local, were engaged by the Authority (NCAA), with ministerial approval as required, to help out so that we would not be found wanting when the ICAO and the FAA came calling.

It was not an easy task to combine routine jobs, as per each individual’s schedule of duties, with the clearance of a huge backlog of deficiencies, which took longer than envisaged to rectify. This could be supposed to be due to the human factor, which, as usual, no one could ever predict. To compound the problem, not all the regulated i.e. the airlines (and other aircraft operators) were that co-operative. Quite a lot of them had to be made to see why we needed to do what we were doing, why it could not be business as usual and why we needed to make a change for the better. Most of the staff themselves needed re-orientation of some sort—they needed a change of attitude, a better understanding and deeper appreciation of what the work of safety regulation is really all about, and a realisation of the enormity of the task before us. In addition, lethargy had to be banished. Sadly enough, as would be revealed in due course, cooperation from staff came more from the bottom than from the top.

As November 2000 approached, the pressure on the DAOS was simply tremendous. Fortunately, a little respite came when, on ICAO’s initiative, the audit (which had been scheduled for that November) was postponed for reasons of technical and operational requirements. It eventually took place between 26th March and 2nd April 2001. This afforded us some extra time to move forward a little bit more. The ICAO Safety Oversight Audit Team (SOAT) came and, in my reckoning, was pleased at our accomplishment within such a short time following the NCAA’s take-off. It was generally acknowledged that a lot had been done; however, a lot more remained to be done. An interim report of the audit was formally received within five weeks of completion of the exercise, and a new action plan was forwarded to ICAO within 30 days (by the first week of June) of its receipt, as required.

This time around, being in charge of the matter in question, or at least so I thought, I was absolutely determined that the deficiencies must be addressed, and within the shortest possible time frame. We needed to be firm in making decisions concerning safety matters, and they must be timely, appropriate and made dispassionately, no matter whose ox was gored. A lingering pain in the neck in that respect had been the issuance of AOCs, which, as per ICAO standards, must be accompanied by Operations Specifications (OpSpecs). It does make sense, doesn’t it, since the AOC is a certificate that just pronounces the holder competent enough to ensure the safe operation of aircraft listed thereon, whereas the OpSpecs give details of what the operator is capable of and thus what it is allowed to do concerning the operation of the aircraft on its AOC. For reason of expediency, a few of the officers of the directorate (drawn from both the airworthiness and flight operations departments) were allocated the task of preparing OpSpecs based on the inspection reports of the AOC teams set up to handle the different operators. I used my prerogative to assign the task as not all the officers could be counted on to do this type of work at short notice. The choice of the officers was thus dictated by the need to get things done quickly.

I had been terribly eager, to the point of desperation, to conclude this AOC matter, at least for all the active operators, as the image of our organisation as a competent safety regulator was at stake. At the same time, I wasn’t prepared to allow AOCs be given out on a platter of gold, so to say, as AOCs ought to be earned. Detailed explanatory notes on OpSpecs had been handed out, along with other job aids, to safety inspectors in the directorate. These notes were meant to be studied so as to make all inspectors capable of preparing the OpSpecs. I had also allocated various assignments to officers to enable us move forward with rectification of our deficiencies. It was therefore shocking to me, to say the least, to discover during a progress-review meeting of DAOS staff (held on Monday 16th July 2001) that quite a number of officers—especially key staff, whom I, the director, should normally be able to rely upon for support and assistance—had either not bothered to touch the job aids given to them several months earlier or had failed to assimilate their contents. These were the very same people who loved to cry about not being given more of certain tasks to do. Indeed, their attitude seemed to have a strong smell of sabotage to it. Interestingly, among them were some who, years later, became directors and director generals (DGs), speaking volumes about the state of our nation!

At the end of the day, after several sermons were delivered by my good self, as usual, on their attitude to the work at hand and their general performance level, a consensus was reached on the matter: Considering the urgency with which I viewed the assignment, I would personally deliver a workshop on AOC/OpSpecs for the entire directorate within days. I therefore swung into action immediately, and the workshop was held on Wednesday 18th July 2001. At this workshop, page by page, I went through the explanatory notes on OpSpecs reading out the text painstakingly, offering explanations and encouraging questions, which were duly answered with further explanations from me.

It was that afternoon, right in the thick of the workshop, that Mr. Imam, a staff member of the NCAA’s DG’s office, came into the conference room—venue of the workshop, to inform me of the DG’s desire to see me. The events that followed occurred in rapid succession and were to me almost unbelievable—and never to be forgotten in my entire life.

This publication seeks to reveal what, indeed, we were cooking in that aviation kitchen that got the house burnt down. It catalogues the countless efforts made on my part as a safety regulator to do things as they ought to be done, so they could be as they ought to be. As I moved up the ladder in my career, my efforts were constantly met with rebuke and vilification by the very people from whom I should have obtained encouragement, if not commendations. These memoirs show how, in my final days at the NCAA, I was subjected to cold, calculated acts of sheer wickedness that even bordered on banditry. It was so much for me that, straight away, I developed the urge to pour it all out, if not for any other reason than to help retain my mental equilibrium and to clear my name, which had been thoroughly and deliberately rubbed in the mud.

Others too suffered similar injustices, but for one reason or the other they have not been able (and perhaps may never be able) to stand up and fight for their rights, which were clearly trampled upon. Outrageous treatments were meted out to public officers in the guise of cleansing the system. It still happens today and, sadly, with impunity. Ironically, the very people who themselves are in need of cleansing are the ones always claiming to want to cleanse the system! Definitely, any nation wherein such acts and actions as described herein are rampantly perpetrated by political-office holders entrusted with responsibilities of serving the public, cannot be hopeful of greatness.

Every time an aircraft accident occurs, the relevant arms of government run up and down, pre-occupying themselves with the search for scapegoats. Some of them play to the gallery and most of them play the ostrich as they neglect the reality that the essential ingredient in assuring operational safety is to allow the regulator to regulate without let or hindrance. It is most important that dedicated, hardworking, law-abiding public servants are assured of security of employment and are provided with the kind of environment that enables them to contribute to what is in the best interests of the country and, consequently, its citizenry.

CHAPTER 1

AND THE CHICKEN CAME HOME TO ROOST

Although I’d been hearing about the book entitled Flying Blind, Flying Safe (⁵) for some time after it was published in 1997, it was not until May 2001 that I had the privilege of laying my hands on it. Incidentally, when I first set my eyes on it, it was in the possession of the first chief executive officer of the very first (pseudo) autonomous civil aviation authority to be created in Nigeria, and that, of course, refers to the FCAA. I pleaded for him to lend me the book there and then, and he obliged me.

The book’s author was none other than Mary Schiavo, a former inspector general of the US Department of Transportation, a position she held between 1990 and 1996. She was, at the time she left office, reputedly the longest serving officer in that post, and she had been nicknamed Maximum Mary on account of the fearless manner in which she carried out her undoubtedly sensitive duties.

As if I knew that the clock was ticking furiously for me as it approached the hour of destiny, I devoted whatever little time I could squeeze from my extremely tight schedule to reading Schiavo’s story. As I devoured that book, I could not help seeing myself in precisely the same situation as she had found herself, and I could not help but have a deep appreciation of the feelings that had prompted her to write about her experience. By the time I finished consuming the text, I was totally convinced that—as I had often declared jocularly during my numerous moments of exasperation—I must write my own memoirs as soon as possible. Our experiences in the regulatory field were so uncannily similar, I thought. However, I never envisaged that I would have cause to embark upon the project as soon as I did, although its completion was halted due to later developments that would become apparent herein.

It was 18th July 2001, and I was conducting a workshop on OpSpecs for the safety inspectors in my directorate when I received a message from the DG—Engineer Zakari Haruna. In deference to him, I promptly wrapped up the point I was making at the time and instructed the officers to carry on the discussion without me while I went over to the DG’s office. The events that followed were to change the course of my life and leave a forever indelible mark on my psyche.

Upon being seated, the DG, in his characteristic manner of picking words carefully and slowly whenever he found himself in uncomfortable situations as that about to unfold, gave an elaborate narrative of his encounter that day with the permanent secretary of the Federal Ministry of Aviation, Mr Robert Audu. He (the DG) had gone over to one of the other aviation parastatals, he said, and had met the permanent secretary, who was wearing a glum look, as if he had just had a quarrel with someone. On enquiry, Audu explained that he was there to hand letters of retirement to the managing director/chief executive officer of the Nigerian Airspace Management Authority, Alhaji I.U. Auyo; and to one of its directors, Engr. T. Okunoren. The DG went on to state that he was later given an envelope and upon opening it, he discovered that it contained a letter of retirement from service addressed to me through himself. I believe that was the reason he had opened the envelope. Perhaps to make me feel there was nothing strange in what was happening to me, he then recapitulated the events that led to his own retirement from Nigeria Airways in 1988.

I took from him the original of the letter of my retirement from service and declared, I suppose I have to sign a copy of this. He had apparently made a copy before calling me over. Using a pen I picked up from his table, I endorsed on it the comment original received by me. Having signed and dated this copy of his, I returned it to him and kept the original. I later asked for and collected the envelope from him.

Throughout his above narrative, I sat in front of him, as cool as a cucumber, watching his every gesticulation and absorbing his words in total amazement. Maybe it was this reaction of mine that prompted him to proclaim I did not know you would take it so coolly, to which I replied, No problem. I couldn’t help but wonder whether he’d expected me to start jumping up and down or knocking my head against the wall, perhaps while renting my garment and crying. Lest I forget, he’d also told me thus: I know you are a very prayerful woman; you will take it as God’s wish. I kept quiet.

Then he asked what I was going to do next, and I told him that I was in the middle of a workshop—as if he didn’t know that! I would go back to that workshop, I added, and finish it, and then I would go home. He requested that I meet with him again before going home. Although I was able to mutter, Okay, I must confess that I had absolutely no intention of seeing him before leaving or probably ever again in my life, as unfortunately it turned out to be (within a couple of years thereafter, he was no more).

As I left the DG’s office with the original letter of retirement in my hand, head held high and maintaining a facial expression that betrayed no emotion whatsoever, I couldn’t help but ponder a peculiar item of information this man had given me in the course of our one-on-one discussion: he had told me that when Okunoren was leaving NAMA premises, he (well, his vehicle actually) was searched! Why he (the DG) decided to tell me that, especially under the circumstance, only God knows—as well as himself, of course. If he thought he was doing me a favour, perhaps to save me from the likely embarrassment of being searched, I couldn’t help but feel insulted. To me, it was like hinting that I had better not take anything that I shouldn’t, or anything that didn’t belong to me, when I left. I felt insulted, as such an act would be out of character for me. What I would ever think of taking away from my office were my most-valued possessions which were my books and documents.

As serious as the situation was, I could not help but chuckle over something else he had told me. It concerned something he claimed to have said on the previous day, to one of the main character in my case, and it was evidence of the fact that he knew beforehand what was going to happen (contrary to his earlier assertion with regard to the meeting with Audu).

The character in question was none other than Mohammed Joji MD, Express Airways and (life?) General Secretary of Airline Operators of Nigeria (AON). Joji was among the AON members who came over to the NCAA for a meeting (as ordered by the incumbent almighty minister of aviation) to be held with us, mainly on the issue of how to implement our new set of Air Navigation Regulationsi (ANRs). According to Zak Haruna, he, the DG, had told Joji on that day—Tuesday, 17th July 2001—that what they, the operators, did in respect of my case was "monafichi. This word, he graciously informed me, means evil" in Hausa language.

This actually made me chuckle inwardly, because another version of this word—which has always been known to me, as it has found its way into Yoruba, my own language—is "monafiqi, which has an Arabic origin and means hypocrisy". Both meanings were fitting as the role some AON members played in the matter at hand was, as would be revealed later, a combination of evil and hypocrisy! My amusement also stemmed from the fact that while the AON plot was thickening, the DG (my boss, who was fully aware of the details) never said a single truthful word to me about it—but that is another tale to be told!

I headed straight for my office and packed all the valuables—passports, other personal items and documents, etc.—that I could think of and lay my hands on at that moment. I asked that my official driver be called and left instructions for him to move the packed items into the official vehicle allocated to me. I said nothing to my office staff about what was going on. Then I went straight back to the conference room. I took my seat, grabbed my own copy of the OpSpecs job aid, and asked, Gentlemen, where are we? I opened the page currently under discussion and continued from there. By the time we were through with a few more pages, one or two members of a committee who were scheduled to use the same conference room for another meeting had started to peep in. I told my officers about the situation concerning our use of the venue and hastened to wrap up the workshop. I told them we would continue the next day, though I knew I wouldn’t be around the next day, or probably ever again. Some of them, of course, knew about the plot and must have wondered why I said that.

The next thing I did was to make sure that everyone was served a packed lunch I’d ordered for them. Then, as they were going to disperse, I told them to wait a minute because I had some news for them. I then reminded them of my visit to the DG a short while before and added something like, When I saw him, what he did was to give me a letter of retirement. Pointing at the officer sitting directly opposite me, at the other end of the long conference table, I said, I have been asked to hand over to Mr Awosika.

Some of the officers were speechless, while others feigned surprise. One asked, perhaps in disbelief, what I meant by retirement, to which I answered: Retirement means retirement! Picking up my handbag which was placed right beside me, I said: See you later.

I picked up the rest of my working documents and headed straight for my office—for the last time. It was at this point that I told my office staff what was happening. While I was tidying up my table, two of my aviation colleagues came in—one was from NAMA and the other was an ex-boss of mine who had moved into private practice. They were visibly shaken, but as they seemed unable to believe my relaxed state, they wondered aloud if anything had happened at my end. Unruffled, I told them I’d just received a letter of my retirement from service from my boss. They said a few kind words to me and left—presumably for the DG’s office, although I never waited to find out.

So it came to pass that on that fateful early afternoon of Wednesday, 18th July 2001, I walked out of my office, only stopping briefly to say a few words to an officer who at the time was my most trusted staff and a very good friend, and who I believed would be shattered if I just left like that without explaining what had happened. I entered my waiting vehicle and went home, never looking back and never to return—at least, that’s how I felt and still feel up to the time of writing this.

I’d got home at 5 p.m., or thereabouts—an occurrence that everyone in my household found pretty unusual. I rarely returned home from the office before dusk. On arriving, I was dead quiet—no frowns, no megawatts smiles. Also unusual. Instinctively, my husband knew something was wrong and started asking, Sade, what is it? What is happening? I proceeded upstairs to my bedroom with him in tow and just kept on saying there was nothing wrong. It was not until a few moments later that I broke the news to him, upon which he yelled, Oh my God.

Still feeling unperturbed by the whole matter, I was the one who had to calm him down and advise him that we should not worry about a thing. My next step was to perform ablution and observe my over-due, as usual, obligatory prayers—the prayerful woman submitting herself to the wish of God! In any case, didn’t I need to thank my stars for being the one that got away, and relatively unscathed, as it turned out to be? No broken bones, no debilitating mental or physical issues. Thereafter, I made some phone calls to a very few number of persons, all of whom were presumed to be friends and well-wishers. In some cases, however, my presumptions were proved, over time, to be incorrect.

The following morning, I was out of the house like a shot. Firstly, I needed to see my dear parents and break the news to them. They were, as expected, aghast, but like me they took it with philosophical calmness. Secondly, I’d decided to pick up an enrolment form from the local Computer Academy. Undergoing formal computer training had, hitherto, been an unfulfilled wish, because I’d been ever so busy. For years, I had hardly any spare time for anything personal. Although I picked up the enrolment form, the largely unforeseen circumstances that followed would not allow me to commence the course until a couple of months later.

The chicken had indeed come home to roost! For almost a year, I had to come up with a satisfactory answer every time my youngest child, who was just going to turn twelve when I was retired, enquired, Mummy, aren’t you going to the office today? At first I waved off his questions, but soon had a ready-made answer thanks to the computer course I had started attending. However, the young lad could not comprehend why I would be going to computer school to the exclusion of the NCAA, so he kept asking me the same question from time to time.

By the time I finished my second set of computer courses in May 2002, I’d run out of excuses. But then, how was mummy going to tell her young, impressionable son that she had been thrown out of her office and place of work—the same work she had given so much time and attention to, to the detriment of herself and her family?

When I was working, practically every morning, as he was being got ready for school, he would chide me Mummy, I didn’t see you last night. And most invariably, I would answer, Sorry, dear, I came home late from the office and you’d already gone to bed. Even most weekends and public holidays had been more or less as hectic as the other days. And I even hardly have the time to remember my annual vacations!

Eventually, I had no choice but to brace myself and provide my son with as truthful an answer as I could give, so I told him, with an air of finality, something like, I’m not going back at the NCAA again. I am going to find another place of work. It makes one wonder, doesn’t it, why I couldn’t have given that to him as an answer several months earlier? But the plain truth is, at the time, I never thought the answer could be that simple! Maybe I’d feared he would probe further and further, and my answers could be embarrassing to both of us, or perhaps I was too distressed at the time to think of so simple an answer. Whatever the reason, I felt so much relieved when, thereafter, he stopped asking so many questions—maybe by then he’d got used to me not going to the NCAA anymore. Most important, he was just happy to have a mum he could see and talk to more often.

Any time I narrate the events of 18th July, 2001, I cannot be done with the episode without baring my mind on a certain issue. I can’t help telling my audience that the DG had the nerve to personally give that infernal letter to me. It could be that I get unduly emotional when I talk about this, but I have my reasons for feeling the way I do about the entire matter of my premature retirement—and the role he played in it. I will always advance these reasons as follows, having first of all apologised for being immodest: This DG, I will say, was the same person, who, as head of Airworthiness Division (AWD) in DSRAM, mostly preoccupied himself with making numerous phone calls to whoever, with his legs stretched across his table while half-rotating himself in his swivel chair. He carried on like this while yours truly was working herself to the point of exhaustion to see that the effectiveness and efficiency of the division was improved—despite the fact that I was just the head of a part, while he was the overall head. In the post-FCAA days prior to his taking up his post in DSRAM (in August 1997, if my memory serves me right), I’d started playing the self-imposed role of Atlas, placing the burden of everything on my own very narrow shoulders and minding what wasn’t supposed to be my business. After he took up his post, I continued the same way. Not only did I mind his business for him, I in fact, minded the non-financial business of virtually the whole DSRAM, along with my own business. This DG, I will add, had forgotten how I laboured day and night as secretary to those committees whose work led to the creation of the NCAA (and of NAMA as well), on which we both served. With me holding the pen, committee members had absolutely nothing to worry about as far as a timely and satisfactory report was concerned. I slaved away, always at the ready to achieve that aim. I served the way I did, only for the sole reason that I derived immense pleasure from serving and never in the expectation of a reward.

I remember on one occasion, in order to meet a seemingly impossible deadline for submission of the committee report, I was wide awake editing and polishing up the report on the night before it was due. I had worked a total of 26 hours at a stretch with barely any time off for anything apart from a late-night meal and a few other personal activities that lasted only a few minutes. By the time I had grabbed one or two hours of sleep, I had to be up again to continue working.

On another occasion, a deadline had to be met with a very short time frame, as usual. For maximum concentration, the committee had to shift base to Abuja. It was the time of the year when the environment gets hot, dry and dusty, and the dustiness in Abuja is at a much higher level than in Lagos where I lived and worked. I knew I was (and still am) allergic to dust, so I went to Abuja armed with my anti-histamine drug. However, I was soon to discover that this level of dust was much more than my body could tolerate. The allergic reaction I was to suffer was far more serious than what Piriton could suppress. Within days, I was down with a massive attack of asthma, my first in about two decades. Thank goodness that we didn’t have to stay much longer in Abuja. It was during my last night there that I knew I was in big trouble. I’d been busy day and night with the final editing of the committee report and could spare just a couple of hours for sleep, yet those few hours seemed the longest in my life. Although I had been slightly wheezy the previous day, during that night it seemed as though a tonne of weight had been placed on my chest. I could hardly wait for the crack of dawn. I survived the overnight ordeal and managed to get to the Federal government secretariat early to make enquiries concerning medical services. In the meantime, final corrections had to be made to the report. As I handed over the report to the secretarial staff for correction, a junior colleague, Mahmoud (of CAFU/NAFIS) made arrangements for me to attend the staff medical clinic across the road from the building in which the FMA was accommodated.

The report had to be submitted that morning unfailingly, therefore as soon as the corrections were done and final report was printed out, I headed for town to get it bound, as required, temporarily forgetting my ailment. A couple of hours later, I was back at the secretariat and soon, I was on my way to see the doctor with Mahmoud accompanying me. The doctor I met was reluctant to attend to me at first as his shift had ended, but he knew that the doctor who was meant to take over from him had not shown up. I said a few things, which probably moved him, and he decided to check me up all the same.

I could see an alarmed look on his face as he did so and, pronto, he prescribed several vials of intravenous injections. He told me I had to be on bed-rest at the clinic for a while. My reply was that I had a ministerial committee report to present in a short while. The minister at that time, Captain Ben Briggs—God bless him—had even arranged for coverage of the presentation by the press. By inference, there was no way I could lie on any bed, not in a clinic or anywhere else! Indeed, it was imperative for me to leave right away—I wasn’t dead yet, I reckoned.

The medical doctor looked at me as if I was a lunatic. Even Mahmoud must have thought I was right out of my mind, and he did say as much to people later. Nonetheless, I got my injections and left, feeling quite happy with myself. Nobody in the committee knew what I’d been going through, as mine was always to grin and bear it. However, they couldn’t have failed to notice my funny and prolonged coughs over the previous day or two. Mission accomplished, back at the FMA, I stressed to other committee members present, the need for me to go back to Lagos immediately after the presentation, casually telling them the reasons but without any fuss or show of self-pity.

I left Abuja that afternoon just after the presentation ceremony and as soon as my flight landed in Lagos barely an hour later, it felt as if half the weight had been lifted off my chest—just like magic! The change of environment did the trick instantly. However, for the next couple of days, I was still in pretty bad shape.

I’ve gone through this narration