Louis Prevost is still reckoning with what just happened in his family.

His little brother, Robert Francis Prevost, is now Pope Leo XIV, the first American pope in the Catholic Church’s history, an incredible fate for a boy from Chicago who dreamt of becoming a priest.

“We knew from a very early time, maybe when he was five or six, he was going to be a priest. There was no doubt in my mind,” Prevost, 73, told AFP from his home in Port Charlotte, Florida.

“When we played games, as kids, he liked to play priest a lot. I thought: ‘what the heck? Priest?’

“He bought Necco wafers, little candy discs, and he’d pretend those were communion and give it to all our friends the yard,” Prevost recounted with a smile.

“We were teasing him when he was six years old: ‘you’re gonna be the Pope.’ And he didn’t like that.”

On Thursday, after white smoke billowed out of the chimney of the Sistine Chapel, Prevost recalled feeling nervous because he felt the cardinal chosen to be pope would be his brother.

He turned on the TV, trying to calm down during the prolonged wait got the announcement.

When Cardinal Dominique Mamberti said his brother’s name at the Vatican, Prevost burst with joy.

“I was in the bed, sitting down. It’s good thing I was because I probably would have fallen over,” Prevost said.

“When I thought: ‘My brother’s the Pope. You’re kidding me.’ My mind was blown out of this world, it was crazy, ridiculous. So excited.”

– ‘Out of reach’ –

Now with the initial excitement subsiding, he is left wondering how his youngest brother’s new role might affect their personal relationship.

“This could be bad for the family. Will we ever see him again? Will we ever get to talk to him like brothers again? Or will it have to be all official? How are you Holy Father, blah, blah, blah. It opens up a lot of questions,” Prevost said.

“He’s still there, but he’s out of reach. We can’t just pick up the phone and call him. Now it’s got to be really special when you get to call the Pope,” he added.

Prevost hopes his other brother, John, will be able to give him some answers when he visits Rome from their hometown of Chicago.

He thinks his brother’s papacy will be able to unite the Catholic Church, attract more faithful and make the world a more peaceful place.

“Whether he has the ability to settle, like the Gaza thing or the Russia and Ukraine conflict, who knows? But I’ve seen him take two warring parties and make peace in five minutes between them,” Prevost said. “He’s got a gift to communicate to people and make them open their eyes.”

He also hopes having an American pope will revitalize the Catholic Church in the United States.

“When he comes to America, he’s going to speak English, not Latin or Spanish or Italian,” Prevost said.

“People will understand what he’s saying. They’ll see him, they’ll realize he’s one of us.”

AFP

Professor of political economy, Pat Utomi, has ruled out ever contesting for public office or accepting any government appointment in Nigeria, citing a desire to remain untainted by the corruption often associated with politics in the country.

Speaking during an appearance on Channels Television’s Politics Today on Friday, Utomi said he is focused solely on future generations’ well-being and has no interest in contracts, appointments, or political ambitions.

“Let me state clearly, I will not run for public office, I will not accept an appointment, contract by any government in Nigeria. My only concern is the well-being of the next generation.

“I have lived my life decently without government money or stealing anybody’s thing. I want to take that away from people who talk nonsense like, ‘Oh, he is looking for contract,” he stated.

Utomi also spoke on the relevance of a shadow government structure, saying it provides a democratic platform for citizens to demand accountability from those in power.

“Nothing can be more democratic than a group of citizens coming together to find a structured way of asking the government to be more accountable. What could be more democratic than that?” he asked.

He urged Nigerians to engage with the findings of Afrobarometer, a long-running public opinion survey that has tracked sentiments about democracy across African countries since 1999.

“I usually pre-phase this conversation with what we’ve done to the African. There are Afrobarometer readings, an annual survey that has been going on since 1999, of how Nigerians, Africans generally, in every country, with all kinds of details. I mean all kinds of details,” he said.

“I want all Nigerians and who really want to understand what has happened to our country to go and study the Afrobarometer readings.

Citing the data, Utomi noted that while many Africans still value democracy, they are becoming increasingly frustrated by its failures across the continent.

“It states that Africans still love democracy, cling to it but they are tired because their democracies are not working.

“Any serious democrat has to read this data, longitudinal data showing that people are fed up with what we call democracy,” he said.

[Vanguard]

In a nation where survival has become a daily miracle, and where hunger, inflation, unemployment, and insecurity have become the norm rather than the exception, the spectacle of government officials and politically connected elites engaging in open display of wealth, what is stylishly coined “escalading” in this context, is not only insensitive but dangerously provocative. In fact, one must boldly state that in the face of worsening economic hardship, it is absolutely inadvisable for anyone in public office or with public funds to flaunt luxury, splendor, and extravagance. To do so is to spit on the suffering masses.

Let us be clear from the outset: the word “escalading,” as used in the Nigerian socio-political context, is derived from the brand name of the Cadillac Escalade, a luxury SUV often associated with affluence, prestige, and power. In the context of this piece, to “escalade” means to show off in a high-end car, particularly in convoy or during public events, often in the midst of people who cannot afford a square meal a day. It has become a symbol of everything wrong with Nigeria’s political class, a class that continues to wallow in opulence while the majority are neck-deep in misery.

It is no longer news that Nigeria is in the throes of an economic meltdown. The naira has continued to plummet, inflation has pushed basic food items beyond the reach of common citizens, and the cost of living is unbearably high. From Lagos to Sokoto, from Owerri to Maiduguri, stories of hardship, desperation, and despair echo through the markets, motor parks, and street corners.

Recent statistics from the National Bureau of Statistics (NBS) confirm what the average Nigerian already knows by instinct: food inflation is above 40%, general inflation is nearing 30%, and over 133 million Nigerians are multi-dimensionally poor. These are not just numbers, they are real human beings, real households, real stomachs going empty, and real dreams being dashed daily. So, when politicians drive by in convoys of Escalades and exotic cars, with sirens blaring and security personnel in tow, it is not just a display of wealth, it is a slap in the face of the downtrodden.

As gathered, the 2025 Cadillac Escalade is a luxury SUV with a price tag that reflects its premium status, starting at a hefty MSRP of \$90,295 and climbing to an eye-watering \$164,695 for the high-performance V-Series. Even the base model, which some listings show at around \$83,890, positions the Escalade far beyond the reach of the average buyer. While discounts of \$2,553 to \$5,382 may be available depending on trim and equipment, the lowest trims still approach six figures, with upper-tier models like the Premium Luxury Platinum and Sport Platinum priced at approximately \$112,690. In short, the Escalade is not just a car, it is a financial commitment.

There is an old African saying: When the house is burning, the wise man does not chase rats. Yet, in Nigeria, it appears that while the nation is metaphorically burning, our leaders are chasing luxury, image, and extravagance. It is highly inadvisable, indeed reckless, for public servants to be seen flaunting wealth during times of collective national suffering.

Take, for instance, the many political gatherings where convoys of Escalades, Land Cruisers, G-Wagons, and other high-end vehicles stretch for kilometers, while the roads themselves are riddled with potholes and death traps. Consider the birthday celebrations, wedding ceremonies, and private parties of government officials, events that could easily pass for Hollywood red carpet galas, with guests arriving in private jets, adorned in million-naira attires, and dining on imported wine and seafood.

What message does this send to the unemployed youth? What signal does it give to the market woman in Ijebu Ode who has had to halve her food portions to feed her children? Or to the university graduate roaming the streets with a CV that nobody wants to read? The answer is simple: “We do not care about your suffering.”

At this juncture, it is expedient to recall that the French Revolution was not sparked by mere political ideology. It was the visible, shameless disparity between the aristocrats and the starving populace that ignited the powder keg. Marie Antoinette’s infamous quote, “Let them eat cake”, whether apocryphal or not, captured the arrogance and disconnection of the ruling class. Nigeria is not far from such a tipping point if current trends persist.

With every show of affluence in the face of public agony, the political class inches closer to sowing the seeds of a revolt. Social media is already ablaze with resentment. Protests, although often clamped down, are beginning to simmer beneath the surface. The youths are watching. The masses are groaning. The patience of the Nigerian people, long known for its elastic resilience, is wearing dangerously thin.

It is no coincidence that attacks on politicians’ convoys, public jeering of public office holders, and online outrage are increasing. These are signs of a brewing social volcano. And the more our leaders “escalade” in the face of escalating hardship, the more they stoke the fires of public dissent.

Leadership, especially in hard times, is not just about policies and programs; it is about symbols. The masses read meaning into every gesture, every appearance, and every public statement. When leaders choose to fly commercial instead of private jets, citizens take notice. When they reduce their convoys and delay lavish celebrations, people feel seen.

Unfortunately, symbolic leadership is almost alien to Nigeria’s ruling elite. The president, governors, ministers, and lawmakers continue to live as if they govern Switzerland rather than a third-world nation battling debt, poverty, and underdevelopment. Meanwhile, fuel subsidy removal has left millions gasping for breath, with transport costs doubling and businesses shutting down.

A responsible leadership would, at the very least, cut back on excessive spending as a show of solidarity. They would freeze new luxury car purchases, slash estacode allowances, shrink convoys, and prioritize local hospitals over medical tourism. But that would require empathy, a virtue seemingly lacking among those at the helm.

It is time for Nigeria’s political class to have a sober reflection. The continued display of wealth in a country writhing in economic pain is morally bankrupt and politically unwise. The people are not blind. They may be hungry, but they are watching. And while they may appear docile today, hunger has a way of waking the boldest spirits.

The concept of “inadvisability” may not be found in any English dictionary, but its message is clear: It is inadvisable, imprudent, and out rightly stupid to flaunt wealth when your people are starving. It is an insult to intelligence and an affront to decency.

Let every leader, politician, and public official note: you may escalate your convoys today, but tomorrow, it may be the people who escalate their anger.

The country is at a critical juncture, and what Nigeria needs now is not another Escalade SUV, not another champagne party, not another foreign trip for ‘medical checks’, but humility, sacrifice, and true service.

Because in the end, it is not the glitter of your cars that history will remember, it is the footprint of your conscience in the sands of national suffering.

When the Nigerian Association of Resident Doctors (NARD) released its statement condemning the National Universities Commission (NUC) for upgrading degree titles in Pharmacy, Physiotherapy, and Optometry to “Doctor” status, one would think this body was filled with forward-thinking young men and women, equipped with global knowledge and a vision for progressive healthcare. But no, what we saw instead was a blatant display of backwardness, raw jealousy, and an embarrassing level of intellectual shortfall that should alarm every Nigerian genuinely invested in healthcare reform.

Backwardness Masquerading as Righteousness

In a world that is moving towards interdisciplinary collaboration and advanced healthcare training, NARD’s reaction reeks of archaic thinking. Globally, the Doctor of Pharmacy (PharmD), Doctor of Physical Therapy (DPT), and Doctor of Optometry (OD) have long been recognized as doctorate-level qualifications that empower these professionals to serve patients with specialized care. In the United States, Canada, Australia, and several European nations, these titles are not just ceremonial—they reflect deep, rigorous academic and clinical training. Yet, in Nigeria, the so-called resident doctors scream of “quackery” and “confusion,” as if patients are so gullible that they cannot distinguish between a medical doctor and a clinical pharmacist.

How is it that a body representing supposedly educated minds can display such stone-aged thinking? Does NARD believe that its patients are intellectually inferior to those in the Western world? Or is this just a shameful attempt to hold on to hierarchical power in an already broken system?

Jealousy Cloaked in Professionalism

Make no mistake about it—this is not about patient safety or healthcare standards. This is pure, unfiltered jealousy. NARD’s statement whines about how pharmacists, physiotherapists, and optometrists do not deserve the title of “Doctor” because it would create “confusion.” But confusion for whom? Globally, healthcare systems have embraced the title without the world collapsing into chaos. Patients understand that their optometrist is not a cardiologist, just as they understand that their dentist is not a neurosurgeon. Only in Nigeria, apparently, is this distinction too difficult to comprehend.

The real issue here is NARD’s desperate attempt to protect its perceived monopoly over the healthcare field. For years, they have fought tooth and nail to suppress the growth of other health professions, clinging to an outdated sense of superiority. Now that the NUC has decided to bring Nigerian healthcare into the 21st century, NARD responds with a tantrum that exposes its insecurities. Rather than embracing progress, they dig their heels into a regressive mindset that serves no one but their own fragile egos.

Intellectual Deficiency Disguised as Concern

If there was ever a testament to a lack of critical thinking, it is NARD’s suggestion that upgrading these titles would lead to quackery. This is not only misleading; it is profoundly uninformed. The PharmD, DPT, and OD are internationally accredited programs designed to elevate the quality of care and expand healthcare access. These are not honorary titles handed out as favors—they are earned through extensive academic and clinical work.

By suggesting that this move would lead to “quackery,” NARD is essentially questioning the integrity of global educational standards. It is ironic that those who claim to be at the forefront of medical advancement are so glaringly unaware of how the rest of the world operates. This is not just a matter of being out of touch—it is willful ignorance.

The Absurdity of Using Britain as a Justification for Regressing Progress

And to crown this embarrassing showcase of outdated thinking, NARD goes on to justify its opposition by citing practices in Britain. Britain? Really? Are we seriously looking to a nation whose medical structure is still largely conservative in its recognition of advanced clinical roles? A country that has not kept pace with the United States, Canada, and Australia in expanding the scope of practice for pharmacists, physiotherapists, and optometrists?

This is not just backward—it is embarrassingly myopic. Britain’s healthcare model is not the pinnacle of global healthcare innovation. In fact, many of its conservative practices are currently being challenged and reformed to meet the demands of modern healthcare delivery. Countries like the United States and Canada have long recognized the need to elevate clinical roles, granting “Doctor” titles to those who complete advanced training in their fields. PharmD, DPT, and OD professionals in these nations carry out clinical assessments, prescribe medications, and manage chronic conditions with competence and legal authority.

The Mindless Argument Over Salaries—A True Testament to Shallow Thinking

If backwardness, jealousy, and intellectual deficiency were not enough, NARD stooped even lower by declaring that medical doctors must always earn more than pharmacists, physiotherapists, and optometrists. This is one of the most absurd, anti-progressive, and outdated arguments one could imagine. The real world does not work this way, and neither should Nigeria’s healthcare system.

Look around the world: salaries are determined by specialization, scope of practice, clinical impact, and market demand—not just by a title. In the United States, for example, anesthesiologists, nurse practitioners, and even some clinical pharmacists earn salaries that rival or surpass those of general physicians. Why? Because their specialized skills are indispensable. Their expertise is acknowledged not by title alone but by the impact and demand for their clinical contribution.

Professor Peter Olapegba’s Odd Thinking on Titles

Not to be outdone by NARD’s backwardness or Mamman’s archaic policies, Professor Peter Olapegba, the Deputy Vice Chancellor (Administration) of the University of Ibadan, displayed his own form of knowledgeable stagnation. His commentary on who deserves the title of ‘Dr.’ is yet another testament to Nigeria’s obsession with gatekeeping professional titles as a means of preserving hierarchy rather than embracing progress.

Olapegba made the outrageous claim that only those who earn a Ph.D. should use the title ‘Dr.’ According to him, medical doctors, pharmacists, physiotherapists, and optometrists have no business using the title, because in his view, ‘abroad,’ medical doctors are simply called ‘physicians.’ This claim is not only false but embarrassingly ignorant of global practices. In the United States, Canada, Australia, and across Europe, medical doctors (MD), dentists (DDS), and even veterinarians (DVM) are rightfully addressed as ‘Dr.’ based on their rigorous training and clinical expertise. This is not a matter of tradition but one of professional respect and global standardization.

Furthermore, his dismissal of honorary doctorate holders as undeserving of the ‘Dr.’ title is another example of intellectual elitism that has held Nigerian academia in a chokehold for far too long. Globally, honorary doctorates are recognized for contributions to society, innovation, and transformative impact, not just academic labor. This is why global institutions from Harvard to Oxford bestow honorary titles with the full acknowledgment of the ‘Dr.’ prefix.

Olapegba’s comments expose a deeper issue: the fear of progress and the obsessive need to gatekeep titles as symbols of superiority rather than as markers of professional achievement. His archaic thinking is precisely why professional spaces in Nigeria remain mired in outdated hierarchies instead of embracing interdisciplinary respect and modernization.

Integration with Mamman’s Archaic Policy and Dr. Tunji Alausa’s Reform 

The previous Minister of Education, Prof. Tahir Mamman’s decision to impose an 18-year minimum age requirement for university admission is another example of regressive thinking. His policy ignored global models like Dual Enrollment and Advanced Placement (AP) that prepare students for university education as young as 14. Thankfully, The current Minister of Education,Dr. Tunji Alausa reversed this backward policy, re-establishing a 16-year minimum age and signaling a shift towards progress.

Dr. Alausa’s decision is a breath of fresh air and shows alignment with global standards. To fully modernize, Nigeria must implement Dual Enrollment Programs, AP Courses, and Early College High Schools that empower young minds to progress based on ability, not age.

Conclusion: Breaking Free from the Chains of Mediocrity

The madness of backward thinking that plagues Nigerian institutions like NARD and was exemplified by Mamman’s archaic policies is a barrier to progress. If Nigeria is to thrive, it must cast aside this obsession with professional elitism, age-based restrictions, and outdated conservatism. Leaders like Dr. Tunji Alausa provide a glimpse of what is possible when innovation and global alignment are prioritized.

Nigeria must abandon these shackles of mediocrity and step boldly into the future—one where education, healthcare, and professional recognition are defined by merit, modernization, and global standards, not archaic gatekeeping.

Professor John Egbeazien Oshodi is an American psychologist, educator, and author specializing in forensic, legal, and clinical psychology, cross-cultural psychology, police and prison sciences, and community justice. Born in Uromi, Edo State, Nigeria, he is the son of a 37-year veteran of the Nigeria Police Force—an experience that shaped his enduring commitment to justice, security, and psychological reform.

Nigeria is at a crucial juncture in its political and economic journey. Once buoyed by the promise of post-colonial growth, the country now grapples with poverty, inflation, and public dissatisfaction. A recent World Bank report highlights the severity of the crisis: over 56 percent of Nigerians approximately 129 million people live below the national poverty line, a staggering increase from 40.1 percent in 2018. 

Urban poverty has doubled, inflation exceeds 30 percent, and while structural reforms have been well-intentioned, they have often intensified hardships.

In this climate of uncertainty, Dr. Akinwumi Adesina, President of the African Development Bank, made remarks that compared today’s economic challenges with those of the 1960s. With clarity and empirical depth, he noted that real GDP per capita has plummeted from $1,847 at independence to just $824 today, a reality that underscores Nigeria’s regression despite its abundant resources. He attributed this decline to decades of weak institutions, policy missteps, and chronic underinvestment in essential public goods.

Adesina’s analysis was not a political attack; it was a data-driven assessment grounded in the realities faced by millions of Nigerians. His comments strongly resonated with the World Bank’s statistics indicating that rural poverty now exceeds 75%. Projections suggest that Nigeria, despite being one of the world’s resource-rich nations, faces one of the steepest uphill battles against poverty.

In response, the Presidency, through Bayo Onanuga, quickly dismissed Adesina’s figures as “inaccurate” and “narrow,” citing a GDP per capita of just $93 in 1960 to counter his comparison. However, this rebuttal not only relied on outdated or inconsistent data but also deflected from a broader truth: Nigeria’s quality of life, institutional coherence, and social infrastructure were demonstrably stronger in the immediate post-independence era than they are today.

This rebuttal reflects a troubling trend in Nigerian public discourse, where defensiveness and political loyalty often overshadow facts. Rejection of the symptoms does not change the underlying condition, akin to ignoring a medical diagnosis. As the proverb states, “Raising your voice cannot make a deaf person hear.”

Amid this contention, HURIWA emerged as a vital voice of reason and solidarity. Standing firmly behind Adesina, HURIWA criticized the Presidency’s response as “unwarranted, disrespectful, and indicative of a broader refusal to engage honestly with Nigeria’s realities.” The organization commended Adesina not only for his statistical rigor but also for his moral clarity in articulating the hardship faced by ordinary Nigerians.

HURIWA’s support underscores the idea that truth-telling is a civic duty rather than merely a political act. By defending Adesina, HURIWA highlighted the importance of expert analysis in policymaking and reaffirmed that challenging authority with facts is a hallmark of democratic engagement, not an act of treason.

The organization emphasized the need for a candid reckoning. Adesina’s intervention was a call for strategic change, not a censure. The facts he presented demand an accompanying policy shift one that combines prudent macroeconomic reform with intentional investments in job creation, education, health, and institutional integrity. This framework must also include robust social protections to support the most vulnerable during economic transitions.

The core of Adesina’s clarion call was about Nigeria rising, elevating itself from deepening and widespread poverty, and achieving a much faster pace of economic growth. Adesina is not someone to ignore. His outstanding leadership and achievements at the African Development Bank and the ingenuity of his innovative ideas have earned him the trust of Presidents and leaders around the continent and globally. His very thoughtful speech (for anyone who actually reads it, is unbiassed and dispassionate) is actually solutions oriented, forward looking and very pragmatic on what Nigeria should be in 2050.

The Presidency should not politicise the patriotic assessment of Adesina, which if taken seriously has the potential to set Nigeria on a faster pace of economic growth and prosperity. As Adesina said, it is time to turn Nigeria into a developed economy. How can that be wrong and missed in the raging rush to smear his well-intentioned push? 

Interestingly, Onanuga forgot that in the same speech Adesina’s patriotism as a Nigerian comes out strongly as he helped to mobilise $2.9 billion to support the development of special agro-industrial processing zones for 28 States in Nigeria, all in support of the same Presidency that is pillorying him? Few weeks ago when Adesina was in Nigeria, he launched the groundbreaking of the first set of 8 special agro-industrial processing zones, together with Vice President Kashim Shettima and Governors of Kaduna State and Cross Rivers State, all APC controlled States. Adesina does not play politics. He is a serious minded, selfless and patriotic Nigerian who works relentlessly and passionately with everyone to advance the economic progress of Nigeria. 

Nigeria cannot achieve long-term growth through selective amnesia. It requires a willingness to confront painful truths and to recalibrate governance accordingly. As Adesina has made clear, acknowledging decline is not an act of defeat but the first step toward renewal.

In defending Adesina, HURIWA reminded the nation that public officials owe citizens more than dismissive rebuttals; they owe accountability. Their intervention helped steer the national dialogue back to what truly matters: the lived experiences of millions, the credibility of national data, and the moral imperative to respond with empathy and evidence-based policies.

History will judge not only those who spoke but also those who listened. Whether Nigeria chooses to embrace truth as the foundation for recovery or continues to disguise the crisis with noise will ultimately shape its legacy for generations to come.

. Sani writes from Abuja 

Nigeria’s political landscape is being reshaped before our very eyes. The chess pieces are moving across the board with calculated precision, as defections sweep across the nation like wildfire in the harmattan season. 

Make no mistake about it – we’re witnessing a high-stakes power play that threatens the very fabric of our democratic experiment.

Last month, Delta state governor Sheriff Oborevwori shocked the nation by defecting with his entire cabinet to the ruling All Progressives Congress (APC). As if that wasn’t dramatic enough, Delta lawmakers in the House of Representatives followed suit, effectively turning a PDP stronghold since 1999 into a one-party state overnight. The political tsunami didn’t end there.

There is a brewing coalition led by former Vice President Atiku Abubakar and former Kaduna state governor Nasir el-Rufai, purportedly aimed at unseating President Bola Tinubu come 2027. Presidential spokesman Daniel Bwala dismissively labelled these coalitions as mere “hallucinations,” insisting no credible political figure has endorsed such a move. But we know better, don’t we?

On the other side of the chessboard, President Tinubu isn’t sitting idly by. Sources close to the presidency reveal that at least five governors are poised to join Tinubu’s camp. It’s now a battle of coalitions – a political arms race where the currency is loyalty and the prize is power.

Have we paused to consider what this means for governance? While our politicians are busy playing musical chairs, the business of actual governance has been unceremoniously shoved aside. The media space is saturated with defection stories while pressing national issues gather dust on the shelf of neglect.

Nasarawa state governor Abdullahi Sule attempted to calm frayed nerves when he said, “We don’t even want Nigeria to be a one-party state. We just want to be the dominant party. If we can win 90 percent of the votes, that’s okay.” Let that sink in for a moment. A 90-10 split is what the APC considers healthy democracy. If that doesn’t set alarm bells ringing, I don’t know what will.

Former President Goodluck Jonathan, speaking at the memorial lecture for the late Edwin Clark, warned that creating a one-party state “through the backdoor by political manipulations” would inevitably lead to crisis.

He reminded us that while some countries have adopted single-party systems, those were meticulously designed with clear national objectives in mind – not cobbled together through opportunistic defections.

“Yes, countries have practiced a one-party system. It may not be evil after all,” Jonathan noted, citing Julius Nyerere of Tanzania who used a one-party state to stabilize the country in their early days of independence.

But there’s a world of difference between a carefully planned system and the chaotic power grab we’re witnessing.

The opposition coalition thinking that hardship caused by economic reforms is enough to unseat Tinubu in 2027 is engaging in wishful thinking of the highest order. Have we learned nothing from our political history?

Performance in office is just one factor in Nigeria’s complex electoral equation. Religion, ethnicity, party loyalty, and financial muscle play equally significant, if not more decisive, roles.

Let’s be brutally honest here: ethnicity and religion remain the twin towers that dominate our political skyline. After former President Muhammadu Buhari’s eight years, there’s an expectation that the south should have its eight years at the helm. We’re not yet politically mature enough to say our president can come from anywhere.

The opposition coalition must factor this reality into their calculations. Presenting Atiku, a Fulani northerner like Buhari, would be dead on arrival. They should abandon that notion if they’re serious about wresting power from Tinubu.

What’s particularly disheartening is the cowardice displayed by our politicians. Most can’t survive outside the corridors of power or without aligning with the center. That’s why the opposition is gradually withering away – they lack the backbone to stay the course and build a formidable alternative.

Ironically, President Tinubu himself was in opposition from 1999 to 2015, and his patience eventually paid dividends. Some of our faint-hearted politicians could learn a thing or two from his playbook. Politics isn’t a sprint; it’s a marathon that rewards endurance and strategic patience.

The real victims in this political chess game are the Nigerian people. While politicians calculate their next moves, the citizenry watches helplessly as their interests are sacrificed on the altar of political expediency. The opposition’s inability to provide a credible alternative forces voters into a Hobson’s choice – either vote for the dominant party or waste your ballot on fragmented opposition parties with little chance of victory.

Democracy thrives on competition. When one party becomes too dominant, accountability suffers, corruption flourishes, and governance deteriorates. The APC’s apparent strategy to absorb opposition figures isn’t just about strengthening their ranks – it’s about systematically dismantling any meaningful opposition. This should concern every Nigerian who values democratic principles.

As we approach 2027, we must ask ourselves: do we want a vibrant democracy with robust debate and genuine alternatives, or are we content with a pseudo-democratic one-party state?

The battle of coalitions we’re witnessing isn’t just about political survival; it’s about the soul of Nigerian democracy.

Our politicians need to develop some spine and stay to build the opposition instead of always running to the party at the centre at the first sign of political headwinds. After all, democracy isn’t a spectator sport – it demands active, principled participation from all stakeholders. The alternative is too grim to contemplate.

This article was necessitated by the events that took place on Tuesday, April 29, 2025, when the newly installed Alaafin of Oyo refused to stand up to greet the Ooni of Ife, Oba Adeyeye Ogunwusi, who had approached to exchange pleasantries with him and other monarchs at a programme organised by Nigeria’s First Lady, Oluremi Tinubu, in Ibadan, Oyo State. In a video that went viral on social media, the Alaafin remained seated and greeted the Ooni casually, while other traditional rulers stood up to shake hands with Oba Adeyeye.

I first saw the viral video on the Facebook profile of Adedamola Adetayo, a ‘ThinkYorubaFirst’ cultural ambassador. He captioned the video, ‘This is very bad optics. Indefensible. It’s a bad omen for Yorubaland.’

As expected, many latter-day historians weighed in on the matter. While some argued that the Alaafin disrespected the Ooni, who is acknowledged to be the spiritual head of the Yoruba race, others claimed that once seated at an event, it is a taboo for an Alaafin to stand up to greet anyone, no matter how highly placed that person was in the society. However, at that same event, the Alaafin was seen standing up to greet the First Lady, Mrs Oluremi Tinubu, and the Oyo state governor, Seyi Makinde.

The Alaafin’s personal assistant, Kolade Oladele, saw nothing wrong in the video. When asked for his reaction, he gave a lame, tepid and watery excuse, saying those reading meaning into the issues are making deliberate attempts to sow discord among Yoruba traditional rulers and distracting them from focusing on more pressing issues affecting the region, including insecurity, economic hardship, and youth development.

As a political expert whose knowledge of historical facts is limited, I couldn’t fault those who saw nothing wrong in the Alaafin’s action at the said event. However, deep down within me, I knew something was amiss, given the body language of the Alaafin and the way he fixed his gaze to the ground while the Ooni was walking to him to exchange pleasantries.

A few days later, the media became awash with reports that there was indeed a simmering rift between the two respected Yoruba monarchs which started in March 2025 when the Alaafin was doing his Ipebi (seclusion rites). The bone of contention was Oyotunji African Village in Beaufort County, South Carolina, United States. There were reports that the Ooni of Ife had always crowned the monarchs in the village, but the new Alaafin believed that the place was an Oyo territory and not Osun; therefore, the Ooni should not interfere in matters relating to the village.

Matters took a disturbing turn when it was reported that a Yoruba traditional ruler based in the United States, Chief Lukman Ojora Arounfale, the Baba Oba of Oyotunji African Village in South Carolina, was allegedly beaten at the palace of the Alaafin over the Oyotunji issue, and this led to his death. As usual, the Alaafin has denied any knowledge of the incident.

I find these developments so disturbing, especially for a monarch that was coronated just a month ago. Lest we forget, the ascension of Oba Owoade to the prestigious throne is currently being challenged in court by one of the contestants, Prince Lukman Gbadegesin. Also, five out of seven Oyomesis (kingmakers) said he was not their choice. They claimed they recommended Gbadegesin for the role. However, on January 10, Governor Makinde disapproved of their choice and presented Owoade with the staff of office as the new Alaafin. The governor even accused the kingmakers of collecting bribes and threatened to prosecute them. In the days of yore, the Oyo Mesi was made up of the most powerful noblemen in imperial Oyo. They constituted the electoral council and possess the legislative powers to carry out their duty. The seven councillors are (1) Bashorun, (2) Agbaakin, (3) Samu, (4) Alapinni, (5) Laguna, (6) Akiniku (7) Ashipa. No emperor, or Alaafin of Oyo, was capable of being enthroned in the capital without the prior consent of and performance of rituals by these seven titleholders. However, in today’s world, the government is the ‘Oyomesi’, and any other kingmaker who questions the authority of the constituted authority will have himself to blame.

Honestly, I don’t know the basis upon which the new Alaafin will see himself as co-equal with the Ooni. It beats my imagination how a king who was crowned in 2025 will be claiming rivalry with a monarch that was coronated in 2015. If you won’t respect his age, at least show respect for the fact that he is your senior. There is no basis for any rivalry whatsoever. Maybe such rivalry existed in times past when the monarchs were warlords, but with the advent of civilisation, the government recognises the Ooni of Ife over the Alaafin. While they are both highly respected and first-class monarchs, from the perspective of the federal government, the Ooni, being the spiritual head of the entire Yoruba race, is considered as the head of all Southern monarchs, just as the Sultan of Sokoto is considered as the head of all royal fathers in the North. It is just like the Emir of Kano or Emir of Borno dragging superiority with the Sultan of Sokoto.

A few days ago, many Yoruba people were shocked with the statement credited to the Oluwo of Iwo, Oba Abdulrosheed Akanbi, in which he accused the Ooni of Ife of plotting his downfall after he (Oluwo) helped him (Ooni) to mount the throne. But for the maturity and calm disposition of the Ooni, the matter would have degenerated into a major conflict. I would have expected Alaafin Owoade to use his position to broker peace not just between the two monarchs but also other royal fathers in the South-West. I wanted an Alaafin that will prioritise the need for Yoruba unity so as to jointly confront the myriads of challenges confronting us as a race and lead the Yoruba to national pre-eminence.

What are the roles of traditional rulers in modern-day Nigeria? Can the society survive without them? The answer is neither here nor there. To the government, the traditional rulers are non-state actors who exist at the pleasures of the politicians and can be dispensed with anytime. To the culturalists, the royal fathers are essential for the preservation of our culture and traditions. Alaafin Owoade should know that his title today is just ceremonial. In the olden days, an Alaafin could pronounce death on any of his subjects, and no one dared to question him. That is why they bear names and appellations such as Kabiyesi, which means the king no one can question; Iku Baba Yeye, meaning the one who can command death or pronounce the same upon his father or mother or he who is parent to death; and Alashe Ekeji Orisha, which means he who wields authority and is second-in-command to the gods.

Unlike in times past when the royal fathers were the governing authority, the Alaafin today cannot pronounce death on any of the subjects under his domain; that responsibility lies with the courts or judicial arm of government. Yorubas have a saying in the past, and it goes thus: ‘Oba loni ile; Oba ba lori ohun gbogbo (The king owns the land; the king rules over the affairs of everything). Any king who tries such in today’s Nigeria will have himself to blame.

Just last month, the Ogun State Government arraigned the Olu of Obafemi, Oba Taofeek Owolabi, before Justice Sunday Adeniyi of the state High Court, Abeokuta, for land grabbing. Oba Owolabi, a member of the Egba Traditional Council, is currently on suspension over the same allegation. In a statement by the Ministry of Justice, the royal father was said to have been arraigned on Tuesday “for conspiracy to sell property without authority, sale of property without authority, unlawful use of agents, forceful takeover of land, assault of a police officer, and obtaining by false pretence.” Apparently, the monarch thinks he has the powers wielded by his forefathers on the throne, forgetting that his position is just ceremonial. Also last month, Governor Monday Okpebholo of Edo State dethroned two traditional rulers—one over alleged complicity in kidnapping and another due to irregular appointment procedures.

In August 2008, the Alake of Egbaland, Adedotun Gbadebo, had to beg for forgiveness when the then state government, led by Gbenga Daniel, threatened to dethrone him based on his public lament on the bad condition of roads in Abeokuta.

I was one of the journalists who interviewed Iba Gani Adams, the 15th Aare Ona Kakanfo of Yorubaland, in 2017 when he was announced as the Aare. As a highly revered generalissimo who led many battles with the Oodua Peoples Congress as its national coordinator, we asked if he would use his position as Aare Ona Kakanfo to lead the Yoruba to war. His response: “The position in the past meant that you had to continually fight wars to protect your people and may be killed in the process, but that was before Nigeria became a sovereign nation. The job in the modern era is limited in terms of physical defence because there are security apparatuses to settle disputes.”

The new Alalafin, Oba Owoade, should know that he is occupying a privileged position, ordained by God with the support of Governor Makinde. Prince Gbadegesin could have been on the throne today if the kingmakers had their way. As a royal father of repute, Oba Owoade must use his position to promote peace, not just among fellow Obas but among the entire Yoruba race. As one of the fathers of the Yoruba race, he must use his native wisdom and intelligence to proffer solutions and advise the government on how to deal with some of the intractable problems in the South-West region.

Having squabbles with a fellow monarch over a territory in faraway United States, less than a month after you are crowned is not ideal. The Oba will also do well to know his limits as a modern-day Oba and not view himself as an emperor in times past. He may incur the wrath of the state government if he does that. The same white whiteman who made the pencil also made the eraser to strike out whatsoever was written by the pencil.

Lastly, I must commend the Ooni of Ife for the equanimity with which he has borne some of the unprovoked attacks against him. If the Ooni had responded in like manner to some of the statements and actions made against it, it may have degenerated into a major conflict, as the media and bloggers will feast on it and blow it out of proportion.

No matter his deified or apotheosis status, the Ooni is still a human and is bound to make mistakes. When such happens, we must respect his sacred office and crown (Tadenikawo). For those accusing the Ooni of making himself too accessible by attending all manners of events, that is an infantile way of reasoning. In fact, the Ooni should attend more events where he can showcase the rich Yoruba and African culture which he embodies to the public. The Ooni of today is not a statue that will sit in his palace, expecting people to come and pay homage to him. The fact that he makes himself accessible is not a licence for anyone to ridicule his personality or his crown. As the saying goes, ‘The gentility of a lion is not a sign of cowardice.’ Those who desecrated or attempted to ridicule the crown of the Ooni, unprovoked, all paid for it. If in doubt, ask the Oba of Lagos, Naomi Silekunola; Sunday Igboho; Dr. Rahmon Adedoyin, self-acclaimed investigative journalist; Bristol Issac Tamunobifiri @PidomNigeria and others.

I enjoin the new Alaafin, Oba Owoade, the Ooni of Ife, the Oluwo of Iwo and other royal fathers to bury their hatchets, join hands together and pray for the peace, progress and stability of the Yoruba race rather than continue the age-long tradition of superiority battles. Like Wale Ojo-Lanre said “What the time demands is not a return to the fragmented glory of ancient pride but a renewal of Yoruba unity. If the Alaafin represents the strength of Oyo and the Ooni symbolises the spiritual bedrock of Ife, then together, they must weave the fabric of Yoruba resurgence. Ego and envy cannot build a future. Respect and cooperation can”.

Akinsuyi, former group politics editor of Daily Independent, studies sustainability communications strategies at the London School of Economics and Political Science.

In the aftermath of Pope Francis’ death, many Africans on the continent and in the diaspora wondered if the Catholic Church would, for a change, elect a Black Pope. Well, they got one in Pope Leo XIV even if this isn’t apparent on the surface.

Although the Pope doesn’t identify as Black, he has Black African bloodline flowing in his veins through his mother.

Robert Francis Prevost, who changed his name to Leo XIV upon becoming the pope, traces maternal ancestral roots to grandparents in the state of Louisiana whose ancestry is part Black African.

According to the New York Times, “The pope’s maternal grandparents, both of whom are described as Black or mulatto in various historical records,” lived in a part of New Orleans, Louisiana’s biggest city, “that is traditionally Catholic and a melting pot of people with African, Caribbean and European roots.”

Records from the 1900 census, the New York Times reports, show that the man who gave birth to the pope’s mother, identified as Joseph Martinez, described his race as “Black” and his birthplace as “Hayti,” the older English spelling for Haiti.

Haitians trace ancestral descent from six major West African ethnic groups: Fon and Ewe from what is now Benin Republic and Togo; Yoruba from what is now Nigeria and Benin Republic; Igbo and Kongo from what is now Nigeria and Central Africa respectively; and Akan from present-day Ghana and Côte d'Ivoire.

That means there is a high likelihood that the pope has distant cousins from Nigeria. That won’t be surprising because, as I pointed out in my February 13, 2021, column titled “Surprising American Cousins Through My Mother’s Ancestry,” my own AncestryDNA record, which I initiated with my mother when she visited me from Nigeria between 2017 and 2018, matched us with several phenotypically white distant American cousins.

“As we went through the photos of hundreds of distant cousins that AncestryDNA’s matches showed, [my mother] was struck with astonishment to find lily white people as her eight cousins,” I wrote. “She asked how that was possible. I explained to her that in the American South, where most Black people were enslaved, many slavers sexually exploited the enslaved, the consequence of which DNA results are now revealing.”

The new pope’s story is another possible explanation.

It should be noted that the pope’s maternal grandfather obviously also had European, possibly French and Spanish, ancestry in addition to his African ancestry. He was probably so light-skinned that he could pass for a white man outside the United States.

He probably chose to identify as Black only because of America’s strange “one-drop rule,” which held that a person with even the faintest scintilla of Black African blood in his/her pedigree is Black.

As Madison Grant wrote in his unbearably racist book titled The Passing of the Great Race, “The cross between a white man and an Indian is an Indian; the cross between a white man and a negro is a negro; the cross between a white man and a Hindu is a Hindu; and the cross between any of the three European races and a Jew is a Jew.”

In other words, whiteness symbolizes purity, and any other color line that touches it inevitably soils it. So, the American notion of Blackness conceives of it as an inerasable genetic stain on whiteness, so that the remotest ancestral connection with Black Africa defines one as Black.

That is why the legendary three-time heavyweight champion Muhammad Ali whose great-grandfather was an Irishman is celebrated as a Black American. That’s why former Secretary of State Colin Powell, who is probably just about 15 percent Black in his gene pool, is celebrated as a Black American success story.

It is why Mariah Carey, who would be called “bature” or “oyinbo” in Nigeria, or “muzungu” in eastern Africa, is accepted by Black America as a Black woman. And that is why it is only in America that a white woman can have Black children, but a Black woman cannot have white children.

This preposterous logic, this scandalously hidebound, hopelessly essentialist notion of Blackness would make most Europeans “Black” since recent DNA evidence suggests that about 75 percent of Western and Southern Europeans have vestiges of African blood in them.

In the eighteenth century, a German physician and anthropologist by the name of Johann Friedrich Blumenbach, on the basis of his flawed analysis of human skulls, taxonomized the human family into five races: Caucasian or white race, Mongolian or yellow race, Malayan or brown race, Negroid or black race, and American or red race.

This arbitrary division of the human family is often fingered as the foundation for scientific racism. It was used by eighteenth-century American judges as the intellectual and moral basis for the promulgation of so-called anti-miscegenation laws (laws that forbade interracial marriage or interracial sex) in a misguided bid to police racial boundaries.

One of the reasons interracial marriages were frowned upon by advocates of racial purism was that mixed-raced children disrupted the easy certainties of Blumenbach’s simplistic racial taxonomy.

As Yale University professor of history Glenda Gilmore once noted, interracial liaisons “resulted in mixed race progeny who slipped back and forth across the color line and defied social control.”

The pope’s maternal grandmother was Creole, who are descendants of the racial alchemy between French, Spanish, and African ancestors but who are nonetheless categorized as “Black” in the United State because of the (il)logic of the one-drop rule. Famous American musicians with Louisiana Creole heritage are Beyonce (through her mother) and Prince.

Creoles can be so light-skinned that they can pass for white. Throughout the nearly two years I lived in Louisiana, I often had difficulty telling a white person from a Black person. People I considered unambiguously white took offense when I identified them as such; they would tell me they were “Black.”

On other occasions, however, people I thought would self-identify as “Black” based on my previous encounters with seemingly white “Creoles” would take offense when I called them Black. Before I left Louisiana, I stopped guessing or discussing people’s racial identity. Yes, racial identification is that tenuous, that fluid, and that notoriously unstable in southwest Louisiana!

It was unsurprising that the pope’s mother, Mildred Martinez, identified as white. With a light-skinned Black Haitian father and a probably even more light-skinned Creole mother from New Orleans, she most certainly would look phenotypically white.

She chose to escape the chains that Blackness imposed on her and embraced whiteness. In America’s racial terminology, she would be described as having performed “passing.”

Passing is defined as a phenomenon when a phenotypically white but legally Black person (because of traces of African ancestry in them) intentionally present themselves as white to evade racial discrimination and gain access to social, economic, or legal advantages in a racially stratified society where white people occupy the upper end of the totem pole.

During the Jim Crow era in southern United States, when segregation and anti-Black laws were codified in the law books, “passing” was often a survival strategy for light-skinned Black people who could physically blend into white society. I have no doubt that that was what happened with the pope’s mother.

John Joseph Prevost, the pope’s brother, told the New York Times that they don’t discuss their mother’s Black heritage. “It was never an issue,” he said. In fact, USA Today and many American newspapers describe the pope’s mother’s heritage as “Spanish.” The African part of her rich racial tapestry is elided.

The New York Times reported on the pope’s maternal African heritage only because a Black New Orleans genealogist by the name of Jari C. Honora unearthed it with powerfully compelling documentary evidence and shared it with the paper.

Well, going by America’s peculiar logic of racial classification, the pope is “Black” because his whiteness is mediated by the invisible, imperceptible, maybe even genetically negligible, but nonetheless undeniable Black African blood coursing through his papal veins.

I just read that Professor Abayomi Sunday Fasina, Vice-Chancellor of the Federal University Oye-Ekiti (FUOYE), has filed a lawsuit against SaharaReporters and the Foundation for Investigative Journalism (FIJ) for publishing audio recordings of him persistently sexually harassing a married senior non-academic staff member of the university identified as Mrs. Folasade Adebayo.

Curiously, the lawsuit isn't denying the authenticity of the disturbing audio records of Fasina’s tediously importunate demands for sexual favors from this married woman. 

Instead, Fasina is just distressed that the audio records were published without the courtesy of his professorial (or is it vice-chancellorial) consent. 

This, his lawyers said, has injured his well-earned "standing as an academic, public servant, and Christian leader." Nothing says "Christian leader" quite like obstinately demanding sexual favors from someone else's spouse, you know!

Fasina’s lawyers said publishing these unimpeachably factual audio records of his sexual harassment without his consent amounted to "cyberbullying, cyber stalking and blackmail." Ha! Did these lawyers attend a legal academy that specializes in comedy routines?

 Note that things got to this stage because Mrs. Adebayo suffered retaliation from Professor Fasina because she froze off his sexual advances. She fought back by filing a complaint against him, mistakenly assuming that reporting sexual harassment would result in accountability.

 But the university's governing council predictably exonerated Fasina of all charges in spite of irrefutably overwhelming evidence of clear sexual harassment by Fasina.

 In fact, in a bizarre twist, Fasina turned around and accused Mrs. Adebayo of attempting to seduce him! 

That must have been what led the woman to share the audio files of Fasina's compromising audio chats with her with the media. (For the record, there is no evidence that SaharaReporters and FIJ got the audio tapes from her. This is just my hunch.) 

Now, Fasina is saying because an obviously compromised internal investigation exonerated him, the media should not have touched the issue again, even if there's contrary evidence to impeach the credibility of the outcome of the investigation. 

In other words, once a “paddy-paddy” university panel declares someone innocent, reality itself should unquestioningly bow to that ruling, and media organizations must unthinkingly bury any contrary evidence deep in inquisitorial oblivion.

Fortunately, that is not the way the law works. In libel law, truth is always a defense. Defamation can't be said to have occurred if your reputation suffers irreparable injury on the basis of factual, provable, empirically sound allegations. 

Let’s see how Fasina’s SLAPP (i.e. Strategic Lawsuit Against Public Participation) against SaharaReporters and FIJ plays out in court.