The Yorùbá culture has always been blessed with the attention of intellectuals, scholars and academics who considered it a worthwhile subject of discourse. Without any doubt, the Yorùbá culture is one of the most studied cultural forms of life in the world. This is apart from the many scholars, cultural enthusiasts and intellectuals that the culture itself has produced, from Samuel Ajayi Crowder to Samuel Johnson, from Akinwunmi Isola to J. A. Atanda to Saburi Biobaku, and from Wole Soyinka to Wande Abimbola, Oyekan Owomoyela to Toyin Falola. But we must also not forget the cultural and indigenous intellectuals, like D. O. Fagunwa, Archibishop Ayo Ladigbolu and Adebayo Faleti, to name just a few, who’s very being and profession are invested in the culture itself. All these intellectuals are those who have laid the foundation for entrenching the influence and the national and global reach of the culture, as well as its hold on our collective imagination.

In this piece, I am glad to dedicate this critical analysis to Baba Archbishop Ayo Ladigbolu who has been a cultural icon for me since way back. I have written so much about my wondering and wandering sensibility as a young boy growing up and reflecting about my context and surrounding. Yoruba culture and history have always held a deep source of curiosity for me, and Pa Ladigbolu is a phenomenal figure who constitutes a triadic embodiment of the theological, the cultural and the political, and one at that who influenced my scholarship indescribably. That places Baba within the crosshair of my search for cultural and theological enlightenment, especially about the Yorùbá culture’s engagement with non-Yorùbá influences. Indeed, in many of my intense political conversations with HE Chief Olusegun Obasanjo around Nigerian politics and the place of the southwest within it, he had always been insistent that I must not miss the opportunity to sit at the feet of the Master, Archbishop Ladigbolu, since I have chosen to follow in the footstep of my grandfather and the celebrated historian of culture, Rev. David Aibinu Olaopa, of blessed memory. This was an added impetus since I had already taken him as a father and a mentor.

Baba Ladigbolu is phenomenal. He occupies the same circle of cultural preservationists that include Tunde Kelani the filmmaker and the Afenifere, the pan-Yorùbá cultural and political forum. However, Baba’s historical trajectory is one with a significant difference. And this is because he is a minister of God who is deeply ingrained in both his cultural environment as well as in Christianity. His career therefore enables a deep insight into the understanding of the conflicted relationship between culture and modernity, and how one could begin to unravel the significance of modernity within a culture’s own development. Indeed, the cultural and professional trajectories of Baba Ladigbolu provides us with a fundamental framework for how an ecumenical framework could be generated between an indigenous culture and a foreign religion. Pa Ladigbolu achieved that almost seamless coherence that allowed him to become a priest of the Methodist Church of Nigeria (and to rise up to the zenith of its hierarchy as an archbishop) while retaining a very deep cultural mooring in the Yorùbá heritage.

We immediately see the significance of this fusion in an age when Pentecostal Christianity built its own incursion into a different culture on the basis of the demonization of those cultures as heathenism. Archbishop Ladigbolu deployed his contact with western education as the fulcrum for developing an open-minded cultural sensibility that allows for the mutual reinforcement between Christianity and the Yorùbá culture in terms of the emergence of a modern sensibility that enables a conversation between the two. When I think of Pa Ladigbolu, I see an older and more perfect reflection of how Ali Mazrui’s Africa’s triple heritage thesis could become an embodied lifestyle and philosophy. I have written so much about how my upbringing enabled me to see how the three dynamics—Christianity, traditional Yoruba religion and Islam—could relate in a non-violent manner. Baba Ladigbolu was raised as a Muslim within a deeply culturally conscious Yoruba context and he converted to Christianity while still advocating the preservation of the Yorùbá culture.

Being born within a household that traces its lineage to Alaafin Siyanbola Ladigbolu I, and growing up within an authentic palace comes with its own unique educational value in the paraphernalia of the Yoruba culture. One of the deepest implications was that even before encountering western education through his many travels and the experience they yielded, he had already assimilated an enlarged mind that accepted the theological ramifications of Islam, Yoruba theology and Christianity. His worldview was already wide enough and empathetic to accommodate his myriad experiences traveling from one place to another. We can speculate that his enlarged sensibility owes a lot to the openminded accommodationist framework that the Yorùbá culture itself makes possible. The Yorùbá culture was able to accommodate the incursion of Islam and Christianity because it lacks the exclusionary ontology of both.

I prefer to see Archbishop Ladigbolu as an exemplar of Antonio Gramsci’s understanding of who an intellectual is. Gramsci bifurcated between the “traditional” and the “organic” intellectuals. The traditional intellectuals—teachers, scientists, priests, artists—contrary to their claims to be the bearers of universal values, are actually those that emerged from within a privileged or even a dominant social class, and who are compelled by the dynamics of that class to reinforce its values and philosophies. The organic intellectuals, on the other hand, are more organically connected to the masses because they grew and emerged from within non-privileged strata, transformed their status through education especially, and imposed on themselves the obligation to raise the fortune of that strata. Intellectuals, Gramsci argues, are recognized by their need for the critical elaboration of a new understanding of the world. This is what determines the functions of the intellectuals in any society.   

Indeed, I want to make a radical assertion that Pa Ladigbolu possesses the status of both a traditional and an organic intellectual. When he became a Christian and the entire household became convulsed with fear and tears, they had no way of understanding the contradiction in their worries. They were Yorùbá who embraced Islam. And so there should not have been any worries about one of them embracing Christianity. And if their worry had been about his possible loss of cultural knowledge, little did they know that he would become a cultural champion that he is today.

A much more fundamental challenge embedded in Pa Ladigbolu’s stature is the tension between absolutist theological ontology of Christianity and the accommodationist and liberal worldview of the Yorùbá. How was the archbishop of the Methodist Church in Nigeria able to balance the claim that Jesus is the way, the truth and the life with Christianity’s paganization of non-Christian cultures? How is Christianity’s proselytizing dynamics squared with the non-proselytizing nature of Yorùbá traditional religion? One way to respond to this is to argue that Pa Ladigbolu’s cultural enthusiasm had to take a back seat while he was the Archbishop of the Methodist Church. And this cultural advocacy had picked up immediately he retired as the archbishop. Even if this explanation is far-fetched given his fearless determination to be Yorùbá at all cost, no one—not even the Church—could deny that Archbishop Ayo Ladigbolu was a staunch Yorùbá who deeply loves God.  

Combining two near incompatible theological views, in my assessment, becomes a courageous plus for Pa Ladigbolu, an insight into the capacity of the Yorùbá culture to keep inventing itself in the face of challenges. The Yorùbá understanding of àṣà demonstrates a flexible adaptability that has allowed the Yorùbá to not only domesticate non-Yorùbá influences, but to also fit into any cultural and theological contexts wherever they found themselves. This is what had made possible, for instance, the Candomblé and Santeria religious experiences from Brazil to Cuba and beyond. These religious forms emerged from the syncretic fusion of the Yorùbá òrìṣà tradition with Roman Catholicism. What is even more significant is that Candomblé, for example, lacks the same institutionalized framework determined by an orthodoxy and a sacred text. Its heterogeneous form allows for significant incorporation in the same way that Ifá incorporates non-Yorùbá events.

This is the same way that Baba Ladigbolu could be understood as a modernizer of the Yorùbá culture and tradition. Being the leader of the Yorùbá Unity Forum (YUF) as well as the chairman of the Oyo Metropolitan Development provide the opportunity to do two major things. First, it allows him to pursue a program of creative urbanism, what the Yorùbá themselves are historically famous for—transforming Yorùbá cities in line with modern exigencies. And second, Baba’s advocacy also brings to the fore the roles of traditional structures and institutions in the development of modern existence.

For Baba, even as the best of modern scholars have realized, culture matters. It must be the platform around which our being-in-the-world is measured and extended to others. The full extent of his multicultural experiences has allowed him to both serve the Almighty while pushing the bounds of theological and cultural similarities and differences. And so, in straddling Gramsci’s distinction between the traditional and the organic intellectual, Archbishop Ayo Ladigbolu becomes an exemplar for other intellectuals—a sum of cultural knowledge that broadens our cultural worldviews.   

“A historian ought to be exact, sincere and impartial; free from passion, unbiased by interest, fear, resentment or affection; and faithful to the truth, which is the mother of history the preserver of great actions, the enemy of oblivion, the witness of the past, the director of the future.” Bhimrao Ramji Ambedkar

History is endangered in Nigeria and those who research or teach it as their vocation are at risk of extinction. Every opportunity to celebrate or learn from history or historians in a country like this, therefore, is not one to be spurned.

When the Usman Dan Fodiyo University (UDUS) in Sokoto, north-west Nigeria, announced that the latest instalment of its Inaugural Lectures would engage with the universe of history, a coincidence of three factors guaranteed them more than the usual bandwidth reserved for such events.

First, this was advertised as the 50th Inaugural Lecture in what is effectively the 50th year of the university. UDUS began life in 1975 as one of twelve federal universities established by the military in the aftermath of the Nigerian Civil War with a mission to disperse the frontiers of enlightenment across the country. Usman Dan Fodiyo after whom it is named was the founder of the Caliphal system and a scholar of some repute.

Second, the subject matter of the Inaugural Lecture had audacity written all over it. The framing was: “The Igbo Factor in the History of Inter-Group Relations and Commerce in Kano.” It departed from the usual preoccupation with academic comfort levels and promised a peek into delicate recesses of the Nigerian narrative.

Third, this was only the second Inaugural Lecture from the History Department of UDUS and the lecturer was a man who had spent over 43 years teaching and researching Nigerian history. He had every right to be taken seriously. Moreover, this was the teacher of Mahmood Yakubu, the Chairman of the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC), no less. Here was an opportunity to find out whether the legend of the INEC chairman as an alchemist of fantasy was a product of nature or nurture.

By the time he stepped up to the podium in Sokoto for his lecture on 5 September, 2024, Professor Ahmed Bako was guaranteed an audience like none that he had encountered in nearly four and a half decades as a university teacher. A full auditorium in the university was more than outstripped by the remote audience.

The esteemed lecturer began by acknowledging that his subject matter was one steeped in “extreme prejudice and emotions”, particularly, “in recent years when a lot of stories are being told or rumours being peddled on Igbo Community in different parts of the country.” Far from fidelity to his promise to put matters “in proper perspectives” (sic), the lecturer wasted no time in fulsomely embracing the prejudice.

Growing up, he confessed, he “heard a lot of frightening stories about Igbo as wicked people who killed Sardauna.” On the evidence of his rendition, this tragedy was not the origin of their wickedness; it was proof of it.

According to Professor Bako, the Igbo in Kano are a “diaspora”, which calls into question any claims they may have to Nigerian citizenship. The pioneer Igbo cultural organization in Kano, the Igbo (State) Union, was both clannish and “extremely militant” and the contemporary pan-Igbo socio-cultural institution, Ohanaeze Nd’Igbo, is a “separatist” organization.

He was only warming up. The Igbo, he theorized, “embarrassed” (sic) education “all with the hope of eventual domination of the country; not necessarily for developing it for the benefit of the nation.” Deploying “ethnic solidarity”, he claimed, the Igbo “gradually marginalized or even displace (sic) large number of Hausa traders.”

Far from an Inaugural Lecture, this read very much like a 21st Century Bill of Attainder. There was hardly a constructive contribution to be gleaned from his study of or occasional interaction with the Igbo. Even the Igbo Union School built entirely form community resources of the Igbo and launched in 1959 was dismissed as “exclusively meant for the Igbo, the school had only 9 non-Igbo students.”

In the absence of any organizing theoretical or philosophical framework, the lecture read like a long-suppressed eruption that finally found an occasion to occur. Its context, sub-text, and texture belied its ostentatious claim early in the text that it was “purely historical not political. It is base (sic) on Archival (sic) and field research.”

Blinkered by prejudice, Professor Bako could not muster the curiosity to interpret his own evidence. Earlier in his lecture, he acknowledged “the colonial residential segregation policy that established different enclaves for migrants”, which effectively binned the Igbo in Kano into an ethnic ghetto in Sabon Gari. He could not have been so bereft of imagination as to be unable to discern it was ethnic discrimination that forced the community to build the Igbo Union School. In striving parents who sought to afford education to their children who may otherwise have missed out on it altogether, all he had the capacity to see was ethnic malevolence.

Professor Bako trotted out hackneyed tropes with a recklessness that dispensed with evidence, authority or comparison. For instance, he claimed that “searching for economic power and dominance make the Igbo to be desperate and aggressive. Desperation is what make (sic) them to not only be disliked by host communities in several of the areas of their dominance in Northern Nigeria but to pushed (sic) some young Igbo into criminal activities.” In support of this claim, he provides neither archival material nor evidence from anthropology, criminology or comparative criminal justice research. It was difficult to believe this was an Inaugural Lecture.

In Professor Bako’s fantastic world, these Igbo are an ethnic group in perpetual conspiracy. In reality, he comes across as projecting his own ethnic self-image onto the Igbo, reflecting at the same time the crisis of a country that cannot make up its mind about this ethnic group. The classic Nigerian trope about the Igbo is of an ethnic nationality almost congenitally incapable of unity. In Professor Bako’s world, however, all they do is conspire on the altar of ethnic solidarity and before the god of domination.

Blinded by this, the professor could not imagine alternative explanations outside his conspiratorial theory of Igbo domination. The lecture mentions “Igbo” 427 times and contains 16 references to words “dominate”, “dominance” or “domination” but finds no citation, authority or evidence to support its connection between Igbo and domination.

The only currency it trades in is homogenization. Magically, it deploys “Igbo” as singular, plural, and collective. It’s a sorcerer’s epic.

Professor Bako’s history of Igbo interaction with Kano coincides rather conveniently with the onset colonial urbanisation in Nigeria. The text is too lazy to even speculate as to whether or not there was any interaction before this time. If he had allowed himself to think outside the frame of homogenized Igbo identity, the professor may have realized that different Igbo communities came to education (and to Kano) at different times.

The Onitsha on the banks of the Niger, for instance, were relatively early recipients of Western education. Their neighbours in Obosi came to it a little later and pursued it aggressively not to dominate Nigeria (a notion that was alien to them) but to compete more equitably with the Onitsha. The idea that the Wawa, the Aro, the Ngwa and the Onitsha (all Igbos sub-groups) conspired to head to Kano to pursue domination makes meaning only to someone who is willfully illiterate about Igbo inter-group relations.

In 2012, an evidently unwell Emir Ado Bayero traveled to Enugu to attend the funeral of Emeka Odumegwu-Ojukwu, whose leadership in the Nigerian Civil War has Professor Bako throwing hissy fits. In January 1966, Ojukwu was the Brigade Commander in Kano who saved Bayero’s life and precluded Chukwuma Nzeogwu’s subaltern, Captain Ude, from coup operations in Kano. Ojukwu was himself fluent in Hausa and may indeed also have fathered a child in Kano. None of this merited acknowledgement in Professor Bako’s elevated piece of pitiable hatchetry. The students who endured him for over four decades deserve our thoughts and prayers.

One thing is clear, however, after surviving Professor Bako: the provenance of this current INEC Chairman is settled.

A lawyer and a teacher, Odinkalu can be reached at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.

There are negative vibes emanating from Edo as the state prepares for the governorship election. These vibes are, in fact, ominous, especially in light of the timely warning that was made the week before by eminent scholar, political thinker, and founding national secretary of the Alliance for Democracy (AD), Professor Udenta O. Udenta. Professor Udenta had issued a warning, pointing out that a large number of the political players in the country’s democracy are seriously harming democratic governance and democracy itself. He had asserted that a great deal more people are working to establish a really toxic and authoritarian atmosphere that is choking democracy.

His words bear repeating in part: “A climate of fear, intolerance, and silence has descended on the national political landscape. Civic spaces are shrinking as security agencies unleash venom on labour leaders, journalists, perceived regime opponents, and members of the political opposition. Elections are now between the APC and their cohorts in INEC and the police and the other parties, as was the case in the Imo and Kogi off-season elections, and unless urgent steps are taken, in the upcoming Edo and Ondo governorship contests.”

Looking at the Edo governorship race objectively reveals that some see it as a do-or-die contest that will incarnate Prof. Udenta’s predictions. The right and desire of the people to select their representatives or president/governor lies at the heart of democracy. However, given the relentless drumbeat of war being beaten by political parties and their members, there is little chance that the Edo election will result in a free, fair, and credible process that can produce a satisfactory election result if the trend is not addressed.

The process is already being marred by violence, as evidenced by the death of a police officer when APC-supporting Philip Shaibu returned to Benin as deputy governor after being reinstated. As of right now, no one has been taken into custody or held accountable for the killing of the law enforcement officer who was carrying out his official duty of upholding public order. We learnt that he was married and the father of children who are now stranded. Even worse are the rumoured detention of prominent PDP figures, the purported targeting of many more for potential arrests, and the temporary statewide deployment of shadow police units.

Violence and irregularities have always plagued Nigerian elections. But the true tragedy, however, arises if the lawful electoral security agencies, especially the police and the umpire, INEC, which are in charge of overseeing elections and election security, respectively, were compromised. Many people still harbour concerns that Edo and other off-season elections might not be free and fair because of the shambolic roles that the two played in the general election in 2023.

It was anticipated that the two organisations would turn their suffering and damaged reputations around with these off-season elections, but that doesn’t appear to be the case. Both bodies, especially the police, are already facing accusations of partiality.

The National Peace Committee, headed by former head of state, General Abdulsalami Abubakar, drafted a peace agreement, but the Edo PDP and the governor of Edo state simply refused to sign it. And their unwillingness to sign is not without reason. They accused the police and INEC of supporting the state’s main opposition party, the APC, which the current governor, Godwin Obaseki, formerly belonged to. The PDP, rightly or wrongly, accuses the police of open partisanship, intimidation, and oppressive acts against their members in favour of the APC. This has to be addressed by the force for the sake of its image, democracy, and stability of the polity.

The APC, the Labour Party, and the PDP, which is currently in power in Edo, have a right to hope to win the election, but they must do it fairly and without using unethical tactics. The actual concern is that Edo State’s election rhetoric does not foster a climate of amity and peace that would allow for a free and fair election.

During a national television broadcast rally, for instance, at least one APC chieftain dressed in a police uniform was seen threatening that his party would fight back during the election. Many started to question why a police officer, who may only cast a ballot in elections, would be so politically partisan as to threaten people on behalf of a political party and speak at a rally while wearing a police uniform. If not swiftly checked, the unparalleled and extremely embarrassing impunity could taint the election and lead to rejection of its outcome.

Nonetheless, the police attempted to justify the officer’s actions by calling him an SPY police officer. Even if that were all there was to it, the Nigerian police force produced these specialised officers like him for specialised police work in private organisations, as the police officials said. However, is the purpose of this kind of police training to serve the political agenda of the political party that the officer is affiliated with? The other political parties won’t view it that way, even if the special police officers have the best of intentions.

It is imperative to emphasise that INEC and the police are the only entities vested with legal authority to ensure a free, fair, and credible election. Even for the sake of the optics, these two vital organisations cannot afford any move or inaction that casts doubt on their credibility.

Even though it seems late in the day, INEC and the police need to work to restore confidence in the final lead-up to the election and maintain impartiality. The method of conducting a free, fair, and credible election is more important than the results. Nigerian elections are notoriously messy and opaque, producing the largest number of lawsuits worldwide. The fact is: there won’t be many good grounds to go to the tribunals to contest the results once candidates and their political parties are satisfied with the process.

There is also a crucial function for the president of Nigeria, Asiwaju Bola Tinubu. In order to ensure that a level playing field is created, as required by law and expectant Nigerians, the president has to prevail over the heads of the two main agencies responsible for a fair and credible election: the INEC chairman, Prof. Mahmood Yakubu, and the IGP, Kayode Egbetokun, to do their work according to law.

INEC has to adhere to the text and spirit of the Electoral Act 2022, specifically Section 64, Subsection 4, which says, “A collation officer or returning officer at an election shall collate and announce the result of an election, subject to his or her verification and confirmation that the— (a) number of accredited voters stated on the collated result are correct and consistent with the number of accredited voters recorded and transmitted directly from polling units under section 47 (2) of this Act; and (b) the votes stated on the collated result are correct and consistent with the votes or results recorded and transmitted directly from polling units under section 60 (4) of this Act.” These explicit provisions require INEC to follow this criteria precedent in the Edo gubernatorial election, which is the posting of results from the polling units in real-time.

Don’t forget, the Electoral Act makes the Bimodal Voter Accreditation System (BVAS) the only means of accreditation before voting. INEC cannot afford to do otherwise.

Per the explicit terms of the electoral act 2022, let the Edo gubernatorial election be transmitted from the polling units, which is established as a condition precedent before the announcement of the results at all levels. This is not insurmountable; in fact, it was achieved in the last Osun governorship election, resulting in a peaceful finish. The 2023 presidential election fiasco, in which INEC claimed that an internet malfunction prevented them from posting results from the polling units in real time, which almost sent the nation into chaos, should be avoided.

Finally, if concrete assurances from INEC and police leadership are received, the PDP and the other parties that declined to sign the peace accord should reevaluate their stand and commit to peace, lest their actions be misinterpreted as hostile, which will further endanger the country’s fledgling democracy.

I’m on a train that has been standing in the middle of the fields for a while. The driver eventually comes on the intercom.

Driver: “Ladies and gentlemen, I have good news and bad news. The bad news is that the engine of the train has stopped, and I cannot get it restarted. The good news is that you’re not on an airplane.”

The Nigerian Railway Corporation (NRC) has long been a symbol of potential gone awry. Once an essential part of Nigeria's transportation network, the NRC has slowly deteriorated into a state of dysfunction. The hopes of connecting Nigeria’s vast regions, facilitating trade, and boosting economic growth now seem like distant memories as the NRC's infrastructure crumbles, its services falter, and its future grows uncertain. While other African countries have made remarkable progress in rail transportation, Nigeria lags far behind, raising critical questions about what went wrong and how it can be revitalized.

I had to do this admonition after I visited one of the railway terminals scattered across the nation, this particular one at least was being put to some use; it was now a police station, but as relics, and a big signpost of the Nigerian Railway with the R out of place, you could see what was, and what could have been lying around, and rotting away, from recovered stolen rail tracks, to other machinery.

It is sad that in the past 50 years, several African nations have recognized the transformative potential of an efficient rail system and have taken bold steps to modernize their railway infrastructure. Egypt, with its extensive upgrades to the Cairo-Alexandria rail line, stands as a prime example of a nation harnessing rail transport to bolster its economy. South Africa’s Gautrain, a rapid transit marvel, seamlessly connects Johannesburg, Pretoria, and the O.R. Tambo International Airport, showcasing the possibilities of a modern rail network. Morocco's Al Boraq high-speed rail line is another example of how a vision for the future can revolutionize mobility and trade in a region.

East Africa has also seen dramatic advancements. Ethiopia’s Addis Ababa-Djibouti Railway, Kenya’s Standard Gauge Railway (SGR), and Tanzania’s rail system upgrades have set these nations on a path toward greater economic integration and development. Similarly, in West Africa, countries like Ghana are making strides in overhauling their railways, positioning themselves for future growth.

In stark contrast, the Nigerian Railway Corporation has struggled to escape its archaic past. While other African nations have embraced change, adopting new technologies, and expanding services to meet growing demands, Nigeria’s railway system remains largely outdated, underfunded, and woefully underdeveloped. Once a key player in Nigeria's economic ambitions, the NRC is now a shadow of its former self, offering a cautionary tale of missed opportunities and systemic neglect.

The decline of the Nigerian Railway Corporation has been a result of a range of factors, many of which have accumulated over decades of mismanagement and underinvestment. These challenges include:

1. Aging Infrastructure: The majority of NRC’s rail tracks, rolling stock, and signaling systems date back decades, making them unreliable and unsafe. Without proper upgrades, the NRC faces frequent derailments, delays, and breakdowns.
2. Inadequate Funding: A chronic lack of investment from both the government and the private sector has hampered the NRC’s ability to maintain, let alone upgrade, its infrastructure. Investment is sporadic and insufficient to cover the expansive needs of the railway system.
3. Corruption: Like many Nigerian institutions, the NRC has been plagued by allegations of corruption. Funds earmarked for improvements are often diverted, while management inefficiencies further erode trust and progress.
4. Lack of Modernization: While much of the world has adopted digital technologies, high-speed trains, and improved safety measures, the NRC has remained stuck in the past. Antiquated equipment and technologies render it uncompetitive in a rapidly changing transportation sector.
5. Security Concerns: Vandalism, theft, and terrorism have severely affected the NRC. Rail lines and stations have been frequent targets, disrupting services and discouraging potential passengers and investors.
6. Poor Management: Leadership at the NRC has been marked by inconsistency and inefficiency. Poor planning, lack of vision, and a failure to execute projects have all contributed to the corporation’s decline.
7. Over-Reliance on Government Funding: The NRC’s dependency on fluctuating government budgets makes it vulnerable to political interference. Without steady and sufficient funding, critical maintenance and expansion plans are frequently abandoned.
8. Lack of Private Sector Investment: The private sector, which could bring much-needed capital and expertise, has largely stayed away due to the NRC’s inefficiencies, corruption, and lack of transparency. Public-private partnerships, which have been successful in other nations, remain underutilized in Nigeria.
9. Environmental Challenges: Flooding, erosion, and desertification affect rail infrastructure in Nigeria. These environmental challenges, if unaddressed, will continue to hamper rail operations and increase maintenance costs.
10. Competition from Other Modes of Transportation: With the rise of road and air travel, particularly in regions with poor rail connectivity, the NRC has lost passengers and freight customers, further reducing its revenue base.

The consequences of the Nigerian government’s long-standing neglect of the NRC are far-reaching and detrimental to the country’s overall development.

1. Economic Growth: A robust railway system is essential for moving goods and people efficiently across vast distances. Without it, Nigeria's trade and industrial potential remain stifled. Freight costs increase, businesses suffer, and regional trade integration is hampered.
2. Job Creation: A revitalized railway network could create thousands of direct and indirect jobs, from engineers and conductors to construction workers and service providers. These opportunities are currently lost as the system remains underutilized.
3. Safety: The outdated infrastructure poses severe safety risks to both passengers and freight. Derailments, accidents, and equipment failures are increasingly common, creating a dangerous environment for users.
4. Environmental Impact: The decline of the rail network has increased Nigeria's reliance on road transport, contributing to higher carbon emissions, congestion, and deteriorating road infrastructure. A functional rail system could reduce the environmental footprint of transportation in Nigeria.

While the challenges facing the Nigerian Railway Corporation are immense, they are not insurmountable. Several steps can be taken to breathe new life into the NRC and reposition it as a vital part of Nigeria's infrastructure:

1. Investment in Modern Infrastructure: The government must prioritize upgrading tracks, rolling stock, and stations to international standards. High-speed rail lines, improved signaling systems, and modern train stations will enhance safety, efficiency, and user satisfaction.
2. Adopting New Technologies: Digitalization, such as the use of automated ticketing systems and real-time tracking, can improve operations. Integrating renewable energy sources and sustainable practices will ensure the NRC remains competitive in a rapidly changing global market.
3. Improving Safety Standards: The implementation of stringent safety protocols and continuous monitoring will reduce accidents and build passenger confidence. This includes staff training and the installation of advanced safety equipment.
4. Addressing Corruption and Mismanagement: The NRC needs a transparent and accountable management system. Anti-corruption measures must be enforced to restore faith in the institution and attract investment.
5. Encouraging Private Sector Investments: Public-private partnerships can unlock vast resources for the NRC, providing funding for expansion, innovation, and maintenance. With proper regulation and incentives, private investors can help revamp the rail system.
6. Developing Effective Leadership: A competent, visionary leadership team that understands modern transportation needs is essential. This requires appointing experienced professionals to key positions and holding them accountable for results.
7. Implementing Regulatory Reforms: A robust regulatory framework is needed to ensure that the NRC adheres to international standards in operations, safety, and customer service.

The decline of the Nigerian Railway Corporation is a stark reminder of the consequences of systemic neglect and poor governance. As other African nations embrace the future with bold rail projects, Nigeria risks being left behind. However, the NRC's revitalization is not just a dream; it is a necessity. Without a modern, functional railway system, Nigeria will struggle to achieve its full economic potential. Now is the time to prioritize investment, embrace innovation, and restore faith in an institution that once held so much promise. The consequences of continued neglect are too severe to ignore—economic stagnation, job losses, environmental degradation, and further erosion of national infrastructure—May Nigeria win

It takes decisive leadership to roll back the forays of terror. Terror understands the language of terror. The recent successful operations of Nigeria’s security forces across the country bear a defining mark of resolute leadership.

On Thursday, troops of Operation Hadarin Daji made a quick delivery. They dispatched terrorist leader, Halilu Sububu, and his gang of death-dealers in a five-star caravan of wry irony to the netherworld.   

Bandit leader Sububu had risen in notoriety with the savagery he dealt on citizens in Zamfara, Sokoto, and other parts of north-western Nigeria. He was loud, imperious, and brutal, issuing threats and making crowing pronouncements on videos. Lives have been lost, communities displaced, property destroyed, and citizens maimed by the sheer industry of Sububu and his gang.

The troops also scored another victory, neutralising Sani Wala Burki, kin of Sububu in the terror business, and his gang, as well as extirpated a terrorist hideaway in Kaduna, freeing 13 kidnapped students.

According to PRNigeria, an authoritative news source on security operations, the troops of Operation Hadarin Daji also eliminated four terrorists in Zamfara state -- Ibrahim Nagure, Lawali Dodo, Kadiri, and Jambaleri.

The troops further launched offensives against fleeing terrorists in Sambisa Forest, neutralising many of them.

This string of propitious outcomes in the north-west and the north-east follow President Bola Tinubu’s directive to the service chiefs to relocate to the zone and his consistent support to the security agencies.

President Tinubu is a renowned democrat, but also a firm and bold Commander-in-Chief.

On September 3, in a decisive response to the killings in Yobe state, the President had said: ‘’The perpetrators of this sinister act will have an inevitable encounter with justice.’’ And true to his promise, the troublers of the nation are having fated encounters with justice, and so will all those visiting terror on Nigerians.

Additionally, the successful operations also show that there is synergy and proper coordination among the security agencies and the intelligence agencies. Intelligence is a fundamental piece in the counter-terrorism puzzle.

In the past, inter-agency rivalry had been a detraction to the counter-terrorism effort. The effective coordination and deployment of security resources attests to a strong and reinvigorated leadership.

Fundamentally, successive actions against terrorism will not be effective or be permanent solutions without a conscientious plan to address the underlying cause. A prominent contributor to the challenge is youth illiteracy and socio-economic dislocation. Economic and social security is essential for corporeal security.

This is the reason the President Tinubu-led administration is making critical investments in education. The federal government through its out-of-school initiative recently reintegrated four million children into the educational system. Also, the Out-of-School Children Commission, set to commence this month, will provide training to approximately 10,000 young Nigerians.

The Tinubu administration is addressing the bottom-line precipitates of social-economic insecurity through seminal policies and programmes while redistributing wealth to the vulnerable and the most vulnerable through revamped social welfare schemes.

As the President re-affirmed, immediate and latent security threats will be decisively dealt with.

Fredrick Nwabufo is Senior Special Assistant to the President on Public Engagement

Just as they say that social media neither sleep nor slumber, history also never forgets! The saying goes that today’s happenings constitute tomorrow’s history. Some of my contemporaries at Great Ife used to summarise History, my course of study, as “Oba ku; Oba je” meaning, one king dies and another reigns in his stead. Or they would say History is the study of the rise and fall of empires. That is not exactly true, though; but these cliches remind us that words and actions perisheth not. There is no “a-se-gbe”or “a-so-gbe” but every word and action lies in wait for us, to bare their fangs at a later date. So watch your word! Weigh it before you utter it. For, once uttered, it cannot be retrieved. “Ohun l’eyin” The words that we speak are like an egg; once it breaks, no Jupiter can collect and put it back in its shell.

In today’s Nigeria, no set of people get more careless with the spoken word as well as with their actions as the politicians. Often, they speak before they think and leap before they look. They are so audacious and reckless that they get entangled now and again when reference is made to their past statements and deeds. The one who said he would go on exile if a particular politician won the last presidential election not only still sits pretty in his Lagos home, he has also become a defender of the same politician he lambasted again and again! The pastor who said “Cut off one of my arms…” if so, so, and so, a politician wins the last presidential election has failed to submit himself for amputation! Or the one that said he would stop worshipping God and become an idol worshiper if the elected presidential candidate got sworn-in has not made good his threat. One who asked Amadiora, the god of thunder, to fire him if he ever defects from his political party has defected! Another who described the opposition party in the most flattering manner today sits and eats on the same party’s dining table!

It is good to keep records! I came across two documents that fascinated me last weekend as I turned around my library. I have a collection of newspapers, magazines and other publications, foreign and local, many of which are no longer in print, that I am putting together as a Journalism Library that students and teachers of journalism, journalists themselves and those in search of knowledge can consult in due course. My first find was an exchange between cerebral and ideological Dr. Segun Osoba (as he then was) and Professor L. Beverley Halstead, both of the then University of Ife (now Obafemi Awolowo University), Ile-fe. It was dated February 1974, more than four years before I gained admission into the same institution as an undergraduate student.

The Segun Osoba referred to here is not Chief Segun Osoba, the celebrated journalist, one-time civilian governor of Ogun State, and now chieftain of the ruling All Progressives Congress (APC). Dr. Osoba was one of the leading ideological puritans of the 1970s and 80s who can rightly be described as one of the lecturers accused by Nigeria’s expired military junta of those years of the locusts as teaching (Nigerian youths) what they (the lecturers) were not paid to teach! And what was that? Social consciousness and decolonization of the mind. Dr. Osoba, together with his ideological soulmate, Dr. Yusufu Bala Usman of the Ahmadu Bello University, authoured the 1976 minority report and draft constitution arising from the Constitution Drafting Committee empaneled by the then military Head of State, Gen. Murtala Muhammed. We shall soon return to that.

The second document was a Saturday PUNCH newspaper report of August 20, 2016 with a screaming front page headline titled: “I and others brought Buhari to salvage Nigeria - Obasanjo". The story, which carried the byline of Hindi Livinus reporting from Yola in Adamawa State, was credited to former President Olusegun Obasanjo and it ran fully on page 29 thus: “Former President Olusegun Obasanjo has said that he and four other eminent Nigerians brought President Muhammadu Buhari to salvage Nigeria from its current challenges. He said they took the decision when they felt that the country stood at a crossroads. Obasanjo said, ‘Three or four of us from different parts of the country got together and said to ourselves: what do we do? We said, what is the problem with us and why are we still not growing? We got talking and knew we needed to do something. What do we need to deal with, for this Nigeria of ours to become what God has created it to be? A land flowing with milk and honey - that is the intention of God for creating Nigeria”. The former president, who spoke on Thursday at a reception held in his honour at the Government House, Yola, Adamawa State, said, so far, Buhari has not disappointed the country. He said, ‘So far, Buhari has not disappointed us. I trust him; he will not fail Nigerians. I know he will overcome the challenges the country is currently facing’. He, however, said Nigeria needed to get its acts right in the areas of policies, governance and leadership for the country to develop….”

We should end the story there! In retrospect, what will Obasanjo say of his vouching for Buhari and of his bringing him to power? I am sure you know that the coming of Buhari was where the rain that was beating us in drizzles in the time of Goodluck Jonathan began to pour in torrents. Now that it rains brimstones and fire under President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, we still cannot exonerate Buhari. Who were the two or three other people that, together with Obasanjo, brought Buhari to “salvage” Nigeria? Is President Tinubu one of them or did he act solo, since he, too, has told us he played an important role in Buhari’s emergence as president? Rather than salvage, Buhari savaged Nigeria! As my people would say, when you mention a tortoise, you also mention the forest from which you picked it. The tortoise in this way is Buhari and the forest are those who helped him into office.

Back to the Osoba/Halstead tango. Halstead (whispering into Osoba’s ears, almost in a conspiratorial tone): Do you know that there is considerable unease about the address you are to give to the students tomorrow morning? Osoba (in normal conversational voice audible to all): In which quarters is this unease? Halstead: In the highest quarters in the administration of the university. Osoba: Do you know why they feel uneasy? Halstead: I believe they fear that you would incite the students to commit acts of violence. Osoba: If these people do not know what I am capable of doing in a situation like this, then, I cannot be held responsible for their paranoia! Halstead: What are you addressing the students on? Osoba: Student power in a situation of public moral crisis. Halstead: What is student power? Osoba: I am surprised that you don’t know what student power is! It is this kind of attitude that makes conversation between two people impossible - when one party constantly asks the other to define terms that are generally understood. Halstead: I am not just concerned with definitions; I want your view of what student power is. Osoba: I cannot help you but I believe you have seen the notice issued from the Vice-Chancellor’s office earlier today, informing College chairmen, Deans, Heads of Departments, etc. about the decisions of the students to make tomorrow a lecture-free day. If you want to know student power in its crudest form, try tomorrow to deliver your Zoology lecture to an empty room. This is the most concrete form of student power. Halstead: In any case, why should you, a senior member of the academic staff, be involved in what is exclusively a student affairs? Osoba: Because I owe a responsibility to the students. If they invite me to address them, as they have done on this occasion, I consider it my responsibility to respond to their call as it would give me an opportunity to focus their attention on serious and creative, rather than trivial and destructive, issues. Halstead: My own responsibility to the students is to teach them Biology; no more, no less. Osoba: I am not surprised that your responsibility does not go beyond that because, as a soldier of fortune, you have no stake in this society and, therefore, no commitment to anything other than your career as a Biology professor. My own view of studentship is that it affords our young men and women an opportunity not only to acquire specialised and professional skills but also to undergo training in responsible leadership and citizenship; and it is the duty of those of us who have a stake in this country to contribute to their development in the two main areas of their education. Halstead: But they are not all going to be leaders. Osoba: That is true but by the logic of natural selection, many of them are going to play significant leadership roles in this society and, in any case, they are all going to be citizens of this country. Hence, the responsibility one has in contributing to their development as responsible citizens and leaders. Halstead: But you also have a responsibility to the authorities of this university; haven’t you? Osoba: Yes, but I have my priorities in this regard. My first responsibility is to my conscience; second is to the tax-payers of this country without whose sacrifice there can be no university; third, is to the students without whom none of us - administrators, professors, and lecturers - will be here, and fourth to the administration. Halstead: In any case, what are the serious and creative issues you will be talking about tomorrow?”

One of the lecturers also present at the debate then cut in: "Why don’t you take a look at the text of his (Osoba’s) address?” Osoba: No, he cannot! If he is interested in learning about the responsible use of student power, he should come to the ceremony at the Sports Centre tomorrow at 10.15am. Halstead: I would like to come but I may be held up by the current Geology conference. Osoba: If you cannot come, you can always ask me for the text of the address, which is typewritten, but that would be after the ceremony. Halstead: That's alright. I’ll try to come but if not, I will be glad to read the text. Goodnight! Osoba: Goodnight!”

Dr. Osoba eventually went ahead to deliver his address to the “Great Ife” students on Friday, 1st February, 1974, which was the 3rd anniversary of the gruesome murder of the University of Ibadan undergraduate, Adekunle Adepeju, felled by police bullet during a student demonstration in 1971.

The Osoba lecture itself and the ding-dong afterwards between him and Professor Halstead will be another discussion for another day!

Before I get badgered by those unwilling to read or lacking in the discipline to digest concepts, let me announce upfront that no insults are intended by either the title or the message below. But I have seen enough of the rush to abuse, by those who miss the meaning of concepts different from their everyday usage, that I suspect an upfront caveat may slow down the rush to conclusion by those who give meaning to the real insult, which is that the best way to hide something from most of us is to write it down in a book. The fear of reading should be overcome so we can find meaning and understanding. I know Nigeria is in grave danger from cleavages separating us from them, as emotion steps down reason, in many, including some very well educated and even a few I know of who built reputations as cosmopolitan thought leaders. These  may sometime soon confront the puzzle and the shame the German elite dealt with after World War II. 

That was also the lot of some in Rwanda who were confronted with their past after the Genocide and the triumph of Paul Kagame. 

I have chosen therefore to leave everyday meaning of the words Idiot and stupid and use them in context, as conceptual expressions of phenomena by philosophers and social scientists.

To the wise men of Ancient Greece we  first turn for their typology of men in society. Those who think of themselves alone as the basis for engagement  they called Idiots. Not an insult. Just a category.

Those who think of and empathise with others so long as those others share paroachial bonds, like blood lines, language or religion, they called tribesmen. As Joshua Greene elucidates in the book: Moral Tribes, exploring emotion, reason and the growing gap between us and them, the tribes man is threatened by outside groups and is perpetually at war with those outside his tribe.

When people mature to a universal sense of the dignity of the human person and live human solidarity, they move up to the category of citizen. All you need do is navigate social media today and you will encounter the reign of tribesmen in extant Nigeria. 

Make a trick statement and you will discover they don’t read. Once your name fits those they are programmed to insult they hit the keyboard saying the same things they said yesterday. And the day before. Many were deployed there by politicians purportedly trying to build a nation. 

Then there is the concept of stupidity. Back in my days in Grad School in the late 1970s I was struck by the work of several academics at the University of California, Berkeley. One was a public policy scholar, Aaron Wildavsky, and the other was Carlo M Cipolla. The former gave us the value of complex redundancy in policy formulation and the latter gave us the five laws of human stupidity.

Cipolla defined a stupid person as one who causes losses to others when he or she may not benefit from the action they chant for and may, in fact, suffer loss from that action.

Cipolla studied human history and found a pervasive influence of stupid people. He then offers us the five laws of human stupidity. The first law is that we always underestimate the number of stupid people in circulation. The second is that the probability of stupidity in a person is independent of his other characteristics such as his education or wealth. The third is that this person supporting wrong that cause harm to others may not even think of personal benefit from that harm. Fourth is that non stupid people always underestimate the danger of being associated with the stance of the stupid and how that underestimation will eventually impact them at very high cost. The  fifth law states that the stupid person is a most dangerous person; often more dangerous than bandits.

The Berkeley Economic historian had categorized man in society just like the Greeks did, and found four types of people: The Intelligent, the bandits, the unfortunate and the stupid. 

The Intelligent are those who aim to benefit themselves and others (win/win); the bandits are those who benefit themselves by harming others, the unfortunate are those who do harm while trying to benefit others, The stupid are those who seek harm to others without benefiting from it.

Any time you see a person cheering passionately for a politician whose conduct does not make sense or who harm the common good,  you are looking at a stupid person, no matter their other characteristics of education, wealth or social status. Even more troubling, as Cipolla  tells us is that there are so many more of them than we like to believe. So take a good look at the fellow next to you.

When Idiots from the Greek typology become stupid, as in  the Ciipolla  thesis, society is in grave crisis. 

All you have to do to recognise we live in dangerous times in Nigeria is to step back and examine the scene that is Nigeria today and you will see an army of stupid idiots marching as Hitler youth did, to the drums of harm to others. A few may be bandits but the majority are simple stupid idiots. Please remember no insult  is intended here. Just a social scientist pointing to phenomena that fit existing theory. 

Highly educated German professionals went that way with ultimately devastating costs to humanity and their country in the Weimar Republic as Hitler, powered by Goebbels propaganda, went to work.. One of them stopped midway into his support of the words of harm to others, and began to ask why, of the Nazis. It did not matter that he was once a supporter.  The Lutheran Priest, Martin Niemoller, who questioned things, spent most of the war years in Concentration camps and prisons. 

After the war he spoke those immortal words of the imperative of speaking up…first they came for the socialists and I did not speak up because I was not a socialist…Then they came for the Jews and I did not speak up..,when finally they came for me there was no one left to speak up.

His moral imperative for speaking up in times of moral crisis has always led me to Dante’s inferno and the hottest part of hell being reserved for those who in a moral crisis seek refuge in neutrality. But it is to Dietrich  Bonhoeffer we must reserve the glory of the Quatto on this matter. He insists we have more to fear from stupid people than evil ones, for evil is easy to identify and fight but not so for stupidity. Stupidity comes dressed up as journalists, academics and even as men of God. Bonhoeffer states unequivocally that silence in the face of evil is itself evil., and not to speak is to speak as not to act is actually to act.

This is why I try to act not necessarily to be seen as acting but because as Bonhoeffer mused, if you board the wrong train it is no use going to the corridor and start running in the opposite direction.

With passionate commitment to the mantra that Nigeria will rise up again and the conviction that this phase will pass away, if we act right, I have Labored on. I have helped found the new tribe, a movement of Nigerians seeking a values driven society based on personal integrity, the work ethic, merit, inclusion and a push back on Ghandi’s deadly social sins like politics without principles, wealth without work, education without character, etc. All who are minded are not to escape the stupid idiot tag are welcome to check the portal thenewtribe.ng and find a cohort to act in concert with. But a person can also act alone so long as they assert the dignity of the human person and seek the common good.

If there is one thing Nigeria needs now, in the face of today’s crisis, it is people who can speak truth to power as we are preyed on by state capture , creeping fascism and the criminal hijack of politics, and a collapse of the checks and balances of the estates of the realm. When people who were known for protests threaten to try those who follow in their footsteps for treason you do not need to be told that there are snakes in the Rafia roof.

. Patrick Okedinachi Utomi is a professor of Political Economy and founder of the Centre for Values in Leadership.

In the early hours of dawn, before the world stirs to life, a rooster breaks the stillness with its crow. This ritual, as ancient as time itself, signifies more than just the start of a new day; it is a testament to instinct and fulfillment of purpose. In many ways, the relentless urge to write mirrors this fundamental behavior. Just as the rooster cannot resist the pull to announce the day, writers around the globe feel an innate compulsion to express themselves through words. It begs the question: why do we suppress this natural instinct, and what would happen if we allowed it to thrive?

The analogy of the rooster’s crow powerfully encapsulates the essence of the writing process. Writing is not merely a mechanical task, nor is it confined to those who proudly claim the title of “writer.” It is a primal, instinctive act that is deeply rooted in our humanity. As children, we scribbled our thoughts and dreams without inhibition. Over time, societal expectations and self-doubt often obscure this initial joy. Yet, underneath it all, the calling to create remains, a voice waiting to be unleashed.

When we allow ourselves to embrace this natural urge to write, we engage in a form of catharsis. Many writers describe the experience of putting words on paper as a release, an opportunity to articulate thoughts that might otherwise remain dormant. The process becomes transformative, turning raw emotion into carefully crafted prose or poetry. It is a means of processing life’s complexities, a sanctuary for the troubled mind, and a celebration of joy. Just as the rooster awakens the world, writing allows us to confront our fears, share our triumphs, and connect with others on a profound level.

Moreover, writing serves as a powerful tool for awakening consciousness. In an age characterized by rapid technological advances and relentless digital distractions, the act of writing invites readers to slow down, reflect, and engage. It fosters conversations that might otherwise be lost in the cacophony of modern life. Each word penned has the potential to ignite change, spark dialogue, and inspire movements, powerful testaments to the idea that writing is not just a solitary endeavor but a collective one. The stories we tell can bridge divides, challenge societal norms, and cultivate empathy. They are conversations waiting to unfold across boundaries and generations.

Yet, despite the proven benefits of writing, many people remain hesitant to engage in the practice. The fear of inadequacy, the belief that they are not “real” writers or the dread of facing a blank page can serve as formidable obstacles. This is where we must draw inspiration from the rooster: it crows because it must, not because it seeks validation. Writers, too, must learn to silence the inner critic and honor their instinctual compulsion to create. Whether it is through journaling, storytelling, poetry, or any form of written expression, each individual has a voice that deserves to be heard.

In a world that often prioritizes silence over expression, it is vital to encourage a culture that celebrates the act of writing. We must create spaces, both physical and mental, where individuals feel safe to explore their thoughts and emotions freely. Schools, communities, and organizations should champion writing programs and workshops aimed at fostering creativity and self-expression. Encouraging the next generation to embrace their voices will only enrich our society.

Furthermore, embracing the natural call to write is a step toward self-discovery. It allows individuals to explore their identities, values, and experiences, leading to greater self-awareness. In a time when disconnection and isolation seem pervasive, writing can act as a bridge, connecting us to ourselves and to one another. The stories we share hold the power to unite us in our shared humanity, reminding us that we are not alone in our struggles and triumphs.

Against the foregoing the backdrop, it is germane to opine that the urge to write is as natural and vital as the dawn itself. Like the rooster’s crow, it is a proclamation of existence, an invitation to wake up to our thoughts and to share them with the world. As we learn to embrace and celebrate our instinct to write, we unlock the potential within ourselves and those around us. Let us honor this innate call and allow our voices to ring out, filling the silence with the beauty of our stories. Let us create a world where writing is not just an act of communication but a celebration of our shared journey through life. In doing so, we may find that, like the morning sun, our words have the power to illuminate even the darkest corners of existence.

Personally, I write because it serves as a vital outlet for my thoughts and emotions, allowing me to articulate my feelings about society and government in ways that resonate both personally and collectively. In a world where opinions are often drowned out by noise, the written word provides clarity and precision. Through writing, I can delve into the complexities of our social structures, examining the nuances of inequality, injustice, and the challenges faced by various communities. Each piece I craft becomes an exploration of societal norms, shining a light on issues that demand attention and dialogue.

Moreover, writing empowers me to hold leaders accountable. In democracies and beyond, those in positions of power must be scrutinized; their actions and policies should be examined through a critical lens. My words serve as a tool of accountability, enabling me to question decisions, highlight failures, and advocate for transparency. By expressing my opinions in written form, I contribute to a necessary discourse, one that can influence public perception and encourage civic engagement.

My writing is not just a reflection of my individual perspective; it is part of a larger conversation that seeks to inspire change. Each article or essay becomes a means of rallying others to notice and confront social and political issues that impact our lives. Through the power of words, I aspire to foster awareness and provoke thought, encouraging others to join the movement for justice and equality. In this way, writing becomes both a personal journey and a collective mission, one that echoes far beyond my own experience, amplifying the voices of those who might otherwise go unheard.

In the world of journalism and public discourse, writing serves as both a reflection of society and a tool for shaping it. Opinion article, in particular, and which happens to be my forte, is essential for challenging perspectives, offering insights, and encouraging dialogue on important issues. It is through these written words that I can voice concerns, propose solutions, and provoke thought, all of which are necessary for growth, both personal and societal. Writing is my means of contributing to the conversations that shape our future.

To those who often criticize my consistent writing, I encourage you to see the purpose behind it. My goal is not to simply fill pages, but to inspire change, invoke discussion, and provide clarity where there is confusion. In each article, there is a responsibility to truth, progress, and understanding. Writing is how I engage with the world, and I hope in time, you will see its value as well.

One of the thematic preoccupations of the book, What the forest told me: Yoruba hunter, culture and narrative performance, (2014) is that, inside the forest, there is a consistent superiority war, often fierce, between man and animals. Written by Ayo Adeduntan, Research Fellow at the University of Ibadan, the book averred that, while animals sometimes win this war, succeeding in crushing hunters for supper, many atimes, hunters vanquish these forest dwellers. They fell these notorious animals renowned for bathing in the blood of their human victims. In pursuit of this theme of a superiority duel in the wild, Adeduntan was in a forest called Ìgbẹ́ Alágogo. Hunting expeditions to the Ìgbẹ́ are seasonal excursions that take hunters to Òj̣é-̣Owódé in the Òkè Ògùn area of Oyo State. There, Adeduntan interviewed a hunter called Òjó Ògúnkúnlé of Agúnrege village. Ògúnkúnlé’s narration of how his hunter-master, named Ògúnòṣ̣un, a very powerful hunter, married a buffalo and was eventually demystified by the animal, painted the picture that a mutual damage often occurs in the duel between animal and man.

The narration goes thus: One day, Ògúnkúnlé went hunting and felled a huge buffalo with his gun. Unable to process what to do with his mountainous game, the young hunter walked back kilometers to announce his kill to his master named Ògúnòṣ̣un. While they were both walking back to where the buffalo was felled, about a mile to the scene, a pretty lady walked past them and saluted on her two knees. In a magical reality that may be hard to believe, Ògúnkúnlé inferred that the buffalo was the one who morphed into the pretty lady. He told the researcher, “all of a sudden, we met the animal, the pretty woman” – “àfi pẹ̀kí n la bá pàdé ẹran l’ọ́nà, èyuùn ìyàwó. Arẹwa obinrin ni”. If Ògúnòṣ̣un had listened to Odolaye Aremu, the Ilorin musician who warned that there is always a suddenness to calamity, (pèkí làá ko èèmò) he probably would have been wary of a beautiful woman suddenly encountered in a dense forest. From wooing the buffalo-woman and taking her home, Ògúnòṣ̣un ended up marrying her. Before the marriage solemnization, according to Adeduntan’s account, the buffalo-woman gave a caveat, which I paraphrase: “Now that I’ve agreed to marry you, the day you recklessly call me an animal, you are done for.”

The buffalo-woman gave birth to children for Ògúnòṣ̣un. However, one day, the wife enraged her husband, so much that he thundered, “You good-for-nothing unlucky daughter of an animal!” (‘Àb’órí ì rẹ burú ni, ìwọ ọmọ ẹranko yìí!). A very mysterious anger immediately seized the woman who instantly morphed into her original buffalo form. As she charged at Ògúnòṣ̣un with her menacing horns, the hunter quickly reached for his hunter talisman (Ìgbàdì).The Ìgbàdì is the phial belt which hunters have recourse to, while on hunting expedition. If a ferocious animal suddenly attempted to harm them, they untied the belt. They then chanted some metaphysical verses which enabled them escape the animal’s deadly ferocity. As Ògúnòṣ̣un chanted the incantations, he landed in a prehistoric mountain on the outskirts of the village. He was however not fast enough for the buffalo which used its horn to gore him and tear his ligaments. The buffalo thereafter ran into the mountains and never returned. Ògúnòṣ̣un, said the narrator, as reported by Adeduntan, carried with him for life the cicatrices of a fractured leg. This motif of a superiority duel between animals of the forest and man is also present in D. O. Fagunwa’s Igbo Olódùmarè where the hero of the book, Olówó-Aiyé, fought the spirit, Anjonnu-Iberu, who transformed into a boa and, helped by a ravishingly beauty witch named àjẹ́diran, who gave him a magic fruit, Olówó-Aiyé transformed into an elephant and crushed the boa constrictor.

What provoked this excursion into the world of animals is a discussion said to be gaining currency among some intellectuals in Southwest Nigeria today. It is themed around the rhetorical question: Have current runners of Nigeria, led by a Yoruba, with their prodigal handling of Nigerian economy and society, not succeeded in demystifying the Yoruba myth of administrative and leadership competence? Same discussion, I learnt, is bandied in banters in Northern Nigeria today, amid sniggering laughter. So, in the ancient “war” between Yoruba and Northern Nigeria about administrative and leadership competence, has the North succeeded, like Ògúnòṣ̣un’s buffalo-woman wife, in demystifying the Yoruba buffalo?

Chief Obafemi Awolowo’s Premiership of Western Region, with its sterling and highly commended leadership, opened the trough of that narrative. That leadership was followed by another one provided by UPN governors of the Second Republic. Watched over by their leader, Awolowo, those governors also significantly showed the world the colour of developmental leadership. That was the last time the Yoruba had the opportunity to showcase their ability, until Olusegun Obasanjo came in 1999. Though he demonstrated comparative competence to lead Nigeria above all his successors, Obasanjo’s pan-Nigerian claim and overt attack on Awolowo’s leadership of Nigeria made his Yoruba people disown him as theirs. In overt flaunt and gloat, Yoruba had often said to the hearing of whoever wanted to listen that, with their centuries-old sophistication, urbane character, western education and grasp of the modern system of administration, if ever they had the opportunity to lead Nigeria, Yoruba would show the world the stuff they were made of.

2023 was that opportunity. Today, under 15 months, Nigeria has fallen into tatters under a man who answers to all the physical attributes of a Yoruba. The question being asked now is, what happened? Why did people who have always held themselves as crocodiles, suddenly turn out to be lizards? Why are people with reputation of lion, King of the Jungle, now being exposed as mere rodents-eating cats? Muhammadu Buhari, whose leadership is compared to an affliction, is almost celebrated as a mascot now by Nigerians in comparison. Aso Rock claims its reforms are like a surgical operation to correct a medical anomaly. It also says that the pains Nigerians undergo are comparable to one inflicted by the Olóólà, facemark maker, whose knife, which cuts painfully deep down into the bosom of the skin, is a precursor to beauty. To the Villa, our pain is a desirable agony. None of the reform evangelists has however been able to explain the optics we see of reformers living in stupendous comfort while targets of reforms are enmeshed in indescribable hunger. Only yesterday, we were told that the First Lady, Remi Tinubu, spent N701 million on foreign trips, in a Nigeria where the people are dying and hungry.

When they are boxed to a corner, in fitful explanations, Yoruba flaunt an explanation which demarcates the Yorubaness of present Nigerian rulers from theirs. They say occupiers of Aso Rock today are mainly coastal Yoruba. These are people, they say, who are a corrupted version of their own ancestry. Theirs, they go further to say, approximates all those qualities of the Awolowo Yoruba and it is because they are from the hinterland. In my piece of April 14, 2024 entitled The Lagos Boy’s coastal highway, I attempted a description of the coastal Yoruba thus: “Writers like Cyprian Ekwensi drew the picture of a dreadful Lagos. The ‘Lagos Boy’ could mean smartness, suavity, celebration of inanity, fraudulence, erection of facades on dross to make it look real…Even before the colonialists came, Lagos, once known as the ‘Venice of West Africa,’ was dreaded by inhabitants of the hinterland… Lagos was home to money-doublers and soul-scarred gamblers. It was where you could make quick money through mere hubris. Some other writers have described Lagos as ‘a place of desperation to make it by hook or crook,’ with some others giving it the fitting description of ‘a huge Dickensian space full of heartbreak.’

Paul French, in his ‘Lagos: Africa’s Capital of Noir’, said Lagos had popularly been described as ‘the capital of crimes such as 419 and internet fraud also known as the ‘Yahoo Yahoo’’. I also made the incontrovertible claim that, “If Tinubu lost some votes of his Yoruba people in the 2023 presidential election, it may not be too far from the truth to say that his morally prude Yoruba kinsmen from the hinterland who believed that anything Lagos was fraud were the ones who withdrew their votes.” I also said “the Lagosian has come to be classified as immune to some of the traits associated with a Yorubaman. He didn’t totally represent the gentlemanly Omoluabi ethos that undergirds the value system of the children of Oduduwa. A trustworthy Lagosian is as scarce as a hen’s teeth. He would grab and run with what doesn’t belong to him. It is repeatedly said that a Lagosian would sell particle to you as an article.” There are however many exceptions to this as there are equally Lagosians of sterling pedigrees.

By trying to remove themselves from the stain of this leadership calamity, the Yoruba seem to be answering a question posed by William Butler Yeats in one of his poems entitled ‘Among School Children’. In it, Yeats had asked, ‘How can we know the dancer from the dance?’ I am of the opinion that, rather than engage in demarcation of hinterland and coastal Yorubaness, (thereby seeking to remove the dancer from the dance) Yoruba should be more frontal in demanding that those in government today should not stain their leadership reputation’s white apparel bequeathed by Awolowo. This will necessitate that they disclaim some Yoruba who have consistently licked the spittle of Aso Rock, all in the name of clapping-on an obvious failure of a child whose waist we adorn with beads not deserved. The Yoruba case in Nigerian leadership is synonymous with the narrative of a head hunter (Oluode) who was caught mourning his hunting dog killed by a tiger. Asked why he mourned, Oluode told them that a valiant tree does not ooze out cowardly secretions (ako igi kìì s’oje) and that what he mourned was his reputation that was at stake. How would the world reconcile itself to the story of a brave hunter’s dog killed by a mere tiger? It was the hunter who was literally killed!

The other explanation Yoruba could give is that what Nigeria has today isn’t the original, certainly nothing of the variant of Awolowo, Bola Ige or any of their leaders’ original copy of leadership. The owners of that original have gone with their slough. It reminds me, again, of one of the hunter-animal liaisons and contests for primacy narratives in Adeduntan’s book. Another hunter, Kìlání Alápó of Alápó village, Ibadan, tells it perfectly. For eight years, Alápó had killed a python under an àràbà tree in a forest called Ẹléṛè.̣ However, in the ninth year of harvesting the python, the snake was nowhere to be found under the àràbà. In its stead, he found the skin of a deer (awo ̣̣ ìgalà). Alápó however went home with his strange find, the àwọ̀. Apprehensive about the slough he kept and its probable consequences, he inquired of a Babalawo who warned him not to destroy it as its owner would someday ask for it (aláwò ̣ ó ̣ wàá bééré áwó). Seven days after, a pretty lady walked into Alápó village, demanding Kìlání Alápó’s home. Seeing this woman, dogs began to bark mysteriously. Adeduntan explained this as the capacity of dogs to “see the numinous.” On meeting Alápó, the woman promptly demanded, “could you please return my slough?” (Ẹ dákun, àwò ̣ mi t’éẹ̣ kó, mọ fé ̣ k’éẹ̣ kó o fún mi). The hunter walked in and handed her the skin. According to the narration, for fifteen years, Alápó consistently killed a deer under the àràbà tree.

Yoruba are in a dilemma. They have an impostor child who, unfortunately, hails from their home of noble leadership pedigree and honour. Like relished epaulettes, the honour of excellence in leadership and administration is what the Yoruba still cling on today. In the same way the python-woman walked back to Kìlání Alápó to demand what rightly belonged to her, the race must demand its àwọ̀ from the impostor.

Good night, Omodewu

On Thursday last week, in Ibadan, Oyo State, I was at the wake and tributes service in honour of Isaac Ajiboye Omodewu, the All Progressives Congress (APC) Oyo State Chairman. The news of his passage on August 18, 2024, in New York, USA hit his home state almost immediately it occurred. It was like a thunderbolt, a blow to many who knew his dove-like character. It was a moment to cower at the feet of the invisible hand of death that plucked a friend, a gentleman personified. Omodewu was laid to rest the second day in his Otu town.

In the events hall where the service took place, you could feel Omodewu’s gentle voice and coy, harmless look. He almost couldn’t hurt a fly. In life, Omodewu was a dependable ally who sought out the comfort of his friends. Until you read about his pedigree, having come out of a home of politicians, Omodewu didn’t strike you as a politician, with all the combativeness and duplicity of politics. I could understand Omodewu’s service as a government appointee but it took a long time for me to connect with his subsequent and unfortunately, last political career path when he became the Oyo State APC Party Chairman. Those who witnessed him in action as party chairman pointed to a leadership he ran marked by unity and consensus-building.

I knew Omodewu in 2011 while we both served under late Governor Abiola Ajimobi. From the way he wove his “been to” status into his utterances, you knew immediately he was one of the Oyo State indigenes who came from abroad to participate in politics. It was later I learnt that he schooled at the City University of New York, USA. He subsequently served as commissioner for local government and thereafter, lands. He was humble and self-effacing.

One thing that I often remember about him was how he, at close to 60 years of age, chose to study law. When he began the course of study at the Lead City University in Ibadan, he told me bluntly that, looking at my example, he was encouraged to go back to school. We also spoke frequently when he was about to go to the Nigerian Law School, which culminated in his being called to the Nigerian Bar in 2023.

Omodewu’s passage tells all of us that death is a bus stop where all of us would alight someday. That gentleman has alighted by his own bus stop. Sleep well, brother.