From the air, the place certainly looked familiar.
I had never before been to Jakarta, the chaotic and teeming capital of the sprawling Indonesian archipelago.
But,
as the plane dodged in and out between the clouds, there it lay below.
And just as I had been told it would, it looked like my former home -
Nigeria.
"Indonesia and Nigeria?" I'd protested to the friend who first suggested the comparison to me some weeks earlier.
"They're 7,000 miles apart. One's Africa, one's Asia. There's no comparison to make."
It was late 2003, and I was flying in from Singapore - a smart, modern
Asian city, now two hours behind me to the north. I'd just been
appointed Asia editor for the AFP news agency, after four years as its
Nigeria bureau chief.
Lagos, my former home, is Africa's megacity, the country's hustling,
bustling, trading capital. It is noisy, sometimes violent but pulsing
with life.
From its crowded waterfront districts to the low-rise
slums inland, it hums with activity; people making deals, making money,
taking a chance and just getting by.
Looking down out of the plane's window, I took in the airport below.
"Ok, so it looks like Lagos," I thought.
Then, emerging minutes later from the plane, I settled into my taxi for the long drive into the city centre.
When
we stopped at a crossroads, crowds of noisy children emerged as they
would in Nigeria to hawk their wares, offering us everything from spicy
foods to soft drinks, typewriter covers to newspapers.
We have not fought, not really, or not enough. And if you do not fight for your rights, nobody will fight for you
Chukwudifu Oputa, Former Supreme Court Justice Both Indonesia and Nigeria, my guidebook told me, are the giants of
their region, home to tens of millions of people. Both were formed as
one nation by Europeans around 1900. Both were governed by the colonial
system of "indirect rule". Both once made money from palm oil, and later
discovered oil and gas.
At independence, the standards of living
in the two countries were comparable on most measures. And since
independence, both have suffered three decades of military misrule and
corruption.
Their first coups were launched within months of each other - in
September 1965 in Indonesia and in January 1966 in Nigeria - and their
military regimes died within 12 months, in May 1998 and 1999.
It
was not only my friend who made the comparisons. But, talking to the
editor of an Indonesian magazine the day after I arrived, I was struck
by a statistic he mentioned in passing. In Indonesia, he said, the life
expectancy of a child at birth had risen from 45 to 70 years since
independence.
In 1960, Nigeria produced almost half the world's palm oil , now it covers just 7% . In Nigeria, life expectancy remains stuck just above 45; today it is around 47.
This prompted me to check other figures.
When
Indonesia's second president, Haji Muhammad Suharto, took power in 1967
the number of people living in poverty was the same as in Nigeria;
around six out of ten. Three decades later, it had fallen from six to
two. In Nigeria it had risen from six to seven.
And today, Indonesia lies almost 50 places above Nigeria on the
United Nation's Human Development Index. Adult literacy stands at 92%,
20 points better than Nigeria. Per capita income, at close to $4,000, is
almost twice that of Nigeria.
Basic healthcare is strikingly
better in Indonesia, and the same is true for education. Access to clean
water and a good balanced diet are better too.
'Struggle is the reason'
Certainly, Indonesia has many troubles. But today, for all its problems,
Indonesia is holding elections that the world applauds, while Nigeria's
last elections, in 2007, were said to be the worst in Africa that year.
So why the discrepancy? The reasons most commonly given for the trouble
with Nigeria - for its failure to meet its enormous potential as an
African giant - are many and complex. They range from the legacy of
colonial rule to the problems of a divided nation, and the impact of the
so-called oil curse.
Nigeria was formed by Britain as two separate protectorates in 1900, and brought together as one in 1914.
Nigeria and Indonesia in figures
Its close to 150 million people speak numerous languages, follow two major world religions and many more indigenous beliefs.
Life expectancy
Nigeria: Men, 47. Women, 48
My own grandfather first arrived in Nigeria in the colonial days in
1928. Over the years, he rose to be part of the team negotiating
independence in the 1950s.
Indonesia: Men, 69. Women, 73
Gross national income, per capita
Nigeria: $1,160
Indonesia: $2,010
The way he and his colleagues framed the constitution probably set the
country on the path to civil war. But the comparison with formerly
Dutch-ruled Indonesia shows that colonial rule is not reason enough to
explain the state of things today.
Gross domestic product
Nigeria: $207.12 billion
Indonesia: $510.73 billion
Nor is a fractured society when a country as diverse as Indonesia can do
as well as it has. And nor is oil, for Indonesia has that too but has
managed its resource relatively well.
Population below poverty line
Nigeria: 70%
Indonesia: 17.8%
So what explains the difference between them? I asked a friend, Bambang Harymurti, an Indonesian journalist.
"Struggle is the reason," he suggested. Though the regime struck out at
those who opposed it, Indonesians had put their leaders under pressure,
he said.
Sources: UN, World Bank, CIA World Factbook
Fearing revolt
While lining his pockets handsomely, amassing a family fortune
estimated at up to $35 billion, Indonesia's Suharto had tasked his
economic advisers with keeping him in power. What he feared most was a
popular revolt.
Since the Dutch first colonised Indonesia,
popular movements had always pressured their leaders. In the 1920s, a
major revolt had broken out against the Dutch. The revolt failed, but it
led to change.
Then between 1945 and 1949, the Islamist,
communist and nationalist movements that had formed fought a bloody
rebellion to force the Japanese and then the Dutch out of the colony.
They succeeded.
Nigeria's last presidential elections in 2007 were criticized
So when Suharto took power in 1965, and though he ruled brutally, he was still fearful of an uprising and had reason to be so.
For decades, spurred on by Suharto, the economists ensured the economy grew fast enough to lift millions out of poverty.
The
army - which bloodily suppressed rebellions in some regions - was used
to build roads and bring electricity to the poor in the Indonesian
heartlands.
The economy was diversified and oil money was used to build sectors
such as agriculture and fisheries, tourism and manufacturing, to provide
jobs and income. Indonesia, which was once a minor player, is today the
world's largest producer of palm oil.
And these changes were
made to provide the poor with jobs and income. Nigeria, which in the
1960s produced almost half the world's palm oil, now accounts for just
7%.
And Suharto was right to be fearful.
Feisty Nigeria
When the economy collapsed in the Asian financial crisis of 1997, popular resistance rose and he was forced from power.
The new rulers took note and the economy is growing again.
And in Nigeria? In Nigeria - feisty, fractious, exhilarating Nigeria - rebels in the Delta have staged attacks on oil wells.
Artists such as Fela Kuti and Wole Soyinka have railed at injustice. Civil rights groups have staged protests.
But if the songs and plays have been popular, the protests have, by and large, been attended by hundreds not tens of thousands.
So in Nigeria, leaders fear being usurped by each other and not ousted by a popular revolt. And they do not make things change.
"What
I realised," Chukwudifu Oputa, the retired Supreme Court Justice
selected in 1999 to look into human rights abuses under the military,
told me one day, "is we have not fought, not really, or not enough. And
if you do not fight for your rights, nobody will fight for you."
Nigerians fight every day, of course. They fight for survival, to put food on the table and to get by.
But have they put real pressure on their leaders?
If not, is that the reason, I wonder, that the average Nigerian lives to 47, and the average Indonesian to 70?
My Nigeria: Five decades of independence, by Peter Cunliffe-Jones was published this month by Palgrave Macmillan
What a wonderful Nigeria with there wonderful leaders?
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