For a man who midwifed Nigeria’s return to democracy, Gen. Abdulsalami Abubakar’s journey to power began without pomp, without ceremony, and without his uniform.
In his explosive new autobiography _Call of Duty_, the former Head of State pulls back the curtain on June 8, 1998 — the morning General Sani Abacha died and Nigeria’s history pivoted.
It was still dark when the phone rang. The message was brief: Abacha wanted to see him immediately.
No time for formality. No time to dress the part.
“I didn’t wear my uniform,” Abubakar writes. “I wore a tracksuit and slippers and proceeded to the Presidential Villa.” The kind of clothes you wear to drink morning tea at home, not to walk into destiny.
What he expected to be a routine early-morning briefing turned sinister at the door. Ushered into a room at the Villa, the door locked behind him. No explanation. No guard. Just silence.
For over an hour, the Chief of Defence Staff sat cut off from the world, the Villa walls suddenly feeling like a cage. He didn’t know it yet, but the man who summoned him was already gone.
Then the door opened. It was Inspector-General of Police Ibrahim Coomassie. One look told the whole story. In that instant, Abdulsalami understood: the weight of a nation was about to land on his shoulders.
What followed was not just a transfer of power. It was one of Nigeria’s most delicate political transitions. A soldier in a tracksuit and slippers found himself at the crossroads of history, tasked with guiding the country from military rule to civilian government within 11 months.
Through this gripping anecdote, Abdulsalami humanizes a day that changed Nigeria forever. No grand uniform. No triumphant announcement. Just a man answering what he thought was a simple call — only to walk straight into history.
The full, never-before-heard details are laid bare in _Call of Duty_, his new memoir launched in Abuja as he marked his 84th birthday.
