Wole Soyinka, the Nobel laureate, says Rotimi Amaechi demonstrated courage by refusing to step down for President Bola Tinubu during the All Progressives Congress (APC) presidential primary contest of 2022.

Soyinka spoke in Abuja on Saturday at the 60th birthday celebration of Amaechi, who served as governor of Rivers state from 2007 to 2015.

The playwright said he was particularly moved by Amaechi’s defiance at the primary election, which he followed live from Abu Dhabi.

“The main reason why I had to be here today — it’s first of all that I admire Rotimi Amaechi’s fighting spirit,” he said.

“And it’s a very consistent one, but the most memorable for me — because I watched this event live on TV all the way from Abu Dhabi.

“I wanted to see the drama of all the primaries going on during the election. I wasn’t really here but I said I want to watch this contest and I’m glad I did.

“Because it gave me a great — most malicious pleasure, rascally if you like, pleasure — to see the incumbent president being given a dose of his own medicine.”

Soyinka said Amaechi’s decision to stay in the race reminded him of Tinubu’s own defiance during the Olusegun Obasanjo era.

“Let me explain this. For somebody we knew as the last man standing when he fought to a standstill, a former president who was manoeuvring himself into a position of changing the constitution and obtaining a third term,” he said.

“He keeps denying it but he and I know for a fact and so do others. And towards that goal, he was sort of emasculating the powers of the constituent elements of the federation.

“And by the end, this president was the last man standing, resisted that effort. All the others had sort of cowed down because their statutory allocation had been stopped — contrary to the constitution.

“But one man — he was the last man standing. Well, he obtained a dose of his own medicine from Rotimi Amaechi during the primaries. I enjoyed that very much.

“While everybody was, you know, falling over one another conceding, there was one individual who got on the podium and he said no, I’m not conceding.

“I didn’t come all the way here to commit ‘lúlẹ̀’. And that man was Rotimi Amaechi. And I said this is what democracy is all about.”

Tinubu polled 1,271 votes to defeat 13 other presidential hopefuls in the primary election.

Amaechi, former minister of transportation, polled 316 votes to come second, with then Vice-President Yemi Osinbajo receiving 235 votes.

[TheCable]

In a democratic society, where leadership is built on the pillars of public trust, accountability, and transparency, criticism is not a curse. It is a blessing, a mirror that reflects the realities that leaders might otherwise ignore or be too insulated to see. Unfortunately, in today’s Nigeria, criticism seems to be mistaken for sabotage, and concerned voices are often branded as enemies of the state.

If recent developments are anything to go by, it has become increasingly evident that President Bola Ahmed Tinubu and many within the ranks of the All Progressives Congress (APC) are developing a troubling allergy to criticism. This resistance to public feedback, however genuine or well-intentioned, is not only unhealthy for democratic growth but dangerously shortsighted.

Nigerians, from the bustling markets in Lagos to the dusty streets of Zamfara, are speaking out, and not without cause. Inflation has skyrocketed, food prices have reached absurd levels, the naira is weakening against the dollar, and the average citizen is being pushed to the edge of survival. Yet, each time a frustrated Nigerian raises his or her voice, the ruling elite and some APC members and followers, particularly on social media platforms react with irritation, labeling critics as opposition sympathizers, paid disruptors, or worse, enemies of progress.

But let us cut to the heart of the matter: criticism is not an act of war; it is an act of patriotism. In fact, it is far more dangerous to a nation’s progress when leaders surround themselves with sycophants who clap even when the roof is collapsing. Leadership is not a performance stage where only applause is allowed. It is a service contract, and Nigerians have every right to question its fulfillment.

At this juncture, it is expedient to ask, “Why is there so much panic over criticism, particularly as observed ahead of, and during the marking of May 29 by virtue of its democratic importance few days ago?

The answer may lie in the psychology of power. Power tends to isolate. The higher one rises, the harder it becomes to hear dissenting voices, not because they do not exist, but because the circle of influence becomes narrower, filled with praise singers and loyalists who are quick to sugar-coat reality. This creates an echo chamber that mutes public discontent and exaggerates government successes.

Yet criticism, especially when widespread and consistent, is a sign that the people are engaged, not indifferent. It shows that the populace still believes that change is possible, and that they have not given up on the system altogether.

Psychologists have long studied how human beings respond to criticism. Roy Baumeister’s concept of the negativity bias explains why negative feedback often sticks with us longer than praise. But in governance, that bias is a gift. It keeps leaders alert. It forces introspection. And more importantly, it creates opportunities for course correction.

Let us be clear: the average Nigerian does not have the president’s phone number. They cannot walk into the Aso Rock villa to schedule a meeting and pour out their grievances. Their voices are channeled through the only means available, protest, commentary, social media, street interviews, and yes, critical journalism.

To brand these voices as enemies of the state is to misunderstand the very essence of democratic governance. In recent times, statements from top APC officials have shown a growing intolerance for dissent. Citizens lamenting the high cost of living are tagged as “opposition agents.” Those who complain about fuel price hikes or food scarcity are accused of sabotaging government efforts.

This level of defensiveness is unbecoming of a ruling party, especially one that mounted the podium in 2023 with the slogan of “Renewed Hope.” If hope is to be renewed, it must be sustained by policies that work, and those policies must be guided by the lived experiences of the people.

There is no great leadership without the humility to listen. Great leaders, from Abraham Lincoln to Nelson Mandela, understood the value of criticism. It was not always comfortable, but it was necessary.

Criticism helps identify policy blind spots. It spotlights implementation failures. It calls attention to unintended consequences. For instance, the removal of fuel subsidies, while economically justifiable in theory, has plunged millions into deeper poverty in practice. The backlash is not necessarily against the policy itself, but against the absence of a structured palliative system to ease the transition.

Similarly, when people question insecurity, they are not “playing politics.” They are crying out for safety in a country where bandits, kidnappers, and terrorists continue to wreak havoc. Dismissing such cries as “noise” is both arrogant and dangerous.

History is replete with leaders who were destroyed not by criticism, but by excessive praise. When everyone around a leader says “yes,” even when the answer should be “no,” the results are always catastrophic.

Ask former President Goodluck Jonathan. At the height of his administration, he was hailed as a transformational leader. Every government action was lauded. Critics were ridiculed. But when the tide turned, those same praise singers vanished into thin air. Jonathan was left politically isolated and ultimately voted out.

Praise creates complacency. Criticism inspires vigilance. A government that is constantly praised can quickly lose its touch with reality. And when leaders become too insulated from the people, the fall is always steep and sudden.

Given the foregoing viewpoints, it is expedient to urge APC members and their supporters to drop the victimhood mentality and begin to see criticism as an elixir of doing better.

The APC is not the opposition. It is the party in power, nationally and in most states. It campaigned aggressively for the 2023 election and emerged victorious. That comes with responsibility, not victimhood.

To behave as though criticism is some kind of political persecution is to betray a lack of readiness for governance. Democracy thrives on checks and balances. Criticism is part of that ecosystem. It helps keep the government in check, ensures accountability, and fosters responsiveness.

Instead of deflecting every critique, the APC should be asking tough internal questions: “Are we truly delivering on our promises?”” Are our policies effective?” “What do we need to improve?” This level of introspection is not weakness; it is the highest form of leadership maturity.

Those who always see criticism as a curse should not forget that Tinubu’s legacy is still being written. This is as President Tinubu often references his achievements as governor of Lagos State, and rightly so. But Nigeria is not Lagos. The challenges are deeper, broader, and more volatile. If he wants his legacy to be remembered for transformation, not turmoil, he must embrace criticism as a tool for recalibration.

He should engage the critics, not blacklist them. He should empower his communication team to listen, not lecture. He should re-engineer policies to meet the real needs of the people. And most importantly, he should ensure that governance is about the people, not about protecting political capital.

To Mr. President and the APC leadership: the criticism you run from today is the same criticism that may rescue your legacy tomorrow. Instead of fighting back with venom, respond with vision. Instead of labeling dissenters as traitors, treat them as stakeholders. Because they are.

Nobody expects perfection from this administration. But Nigerians do expect sincerity, empathy, and responsiveness. The hardship in the land is real. The hunger is biting. The frustration is boiling. People are not crying because they hate the government. They are crying because they feel forgotten.

In a democracy, when citizens stop complaining, it does not mean things have improved, it means they have given up hope. And that is the true curse, not criticism.

So when next you hear a citizen raise his or her voice in anger, or a journalist pens a critical piece, don not curse. Do not arrest. Do not dismiss.

Ask yourself: “What if they are right?” Because history will not remember how often you were praised. It will remember what you did when you were challenged.

As the 2027 general elections draw closer, Nigeria’s political landscape is beginning to shift. Political parties are actively exploring mergers and alliances, hoping to bolster their chances at the polls. While the current administration appears to be in a strong position, the opposition should not be discounted.

Drawing from the Mendelow Stakeholder Matrix, one thing is clear: political power is fluid. Influence and interest are not fixed—they rise and fall with prevailing conditions. A coalition of individuals with limited clout can, when united by a shared goal, become a powerful political force. This reality underscores the importance for the ruling party to remain vigilant, as stakeholder dynamics can change rapidly and unpredictably.

The All Progressives Congress (APC) has recently gained momentum through a wave of high-profile defections, with indications that more are on the way. While this strengthens the party’s numerical advantage, some political observers are warning of an emerging one-party dominance—an unsettling development for Nigeria’s democratic health. Meanwhile, opposition parties are attempting to project resilience, downplaying the impact of the defections and positioning themselves as still relevant.

Yet, beyond party strategy and political alignments, it is the daily realities of Nigerians that will likely determine the outcome of the 2027 election. With economic hardship, inflation, unemployment, and widespread insecurity continuing to plague the nation, voter frustration is palpable. If these conditions persist, the administration may face backlash—not from rival politicians, but from the electorate itself, through protest votes. These are not necessarily votes of confidence in the opposition, but expressions of dissatisfaction with the current state of affairs.

Unlike opposition candidates who can campaign on promises and potential, incumbents are judged by tangible outcomes. President Tinubu’s administration must contend with the burden of proof. The opposition can run on hope; the government must run on results. Political grandstanding will not be enough—Nigerians are seeking visible, meaningful improvements in their quality of life.

To solidify its position, the administration must focus on delivering real solutions. The recent dip in food prices is encouraging, but more sustained actions are required to reduce the cost of living. Inflation control, a stronger Naira. Improved security and job creation should also be on the front burner. Equally important is transparent and consistent communication of achievements. Citizens must be able to see and feel the progress being made. Leaders must also avoid divisive rhetoric and foster unity in both speech and action.

While President Tinubu currently appears to be the frontrunner, Nigeria’s political environment is anything but predictable. A fragmented opposition could find strength in unity, and more critically, a disillusioned electorate could become the most formidable opposition of all, choosing change not in protests, but at the ballot box.

Bringing prominent figures into the APC may offer a temporary edge, but true political strength in 2027 will come from earning the trust and confidence of the people. Ultimately, it is the people’s welfare and perception that will determine the outcome of the next election.

There are women who break ceilings, and then there are women like Mo Abudu, who build entirely new mansions in the sky, with staircases for others to follow. Her journey is more than a personal triumph, it is a clarion call to young Nigerian women: Your voice matters, your ideas matter, and your dreams are not too big.

Mo recently shared a powerful message on LinkedIn, not to boast, but to remind us of the power of boldness. It was not just a timeline of achievements. It was a masterclass in vision, grit, and the God-factor, the kind of post that, if you read between the lines, should make every young woman sit up and say, “If she did it, so can I.”

Let us put this in perspective: Mo Abudu began her hospitality and media journey at 40, with no formal experience. What she had was purpose, passion, and unshakable faith. Twenty years later, the milestones are nothing short of astonishing.

For instance, at 40, she launched Moments with Mo, Africa’s first syndicated daily talk show, at 49, she founded EbonyLife TV, a platform that brought a bold, global Black identity to screens, and at 50, she broke into filmmaking with FIFTY, The Wedding Party, Chief Daddy, and more.

On a sustaining trajectory of success, at 53, she created EbonyLife Place, Nigeria’s first luxury entertainment resort, at 56  Established EbonyLife Creative Academy to train future filmmakers, at 58,  she directed her Perfect Life and Iyawo Mi, with global recognition and at 60, she launched EbonyLife Place London, the UK’s first African cinema and creative hub.

But more than these achievements, what sets Mo apart is when she did them. She did not start at 20. She was not handed opportunities on a silver platter. She did not wait for permission. And she did not let age, or the fear of starting late, cage her ambitions.

The message to young women in this context is “You Are Not Too Young, or Too Late” The foregoing motivational capsule can be understood from the perspective of the fact that there is a dangerous narrative floating around, that greatness is only valid when it happens young. That your 20s are for hustling nonstop and “making it” before 30. That if you have not become a CEO, bought a house, or amassed thousands of followers on social media by 27, you have somehow failed. Stop it. Right now.

Mo Abudu’s life is evidence that every phase of life holds power, and that purpose is not bound by age, background, or timing. She was bold enough to launch global enterprises when others were preparing to slow down.

So, if you are in your 20s or 30s feeling anxious because you have not “arrived,” let this be your reality check: You are not behind. You are in process. You are just getting started.

Your beginning might be humble, but your destiny is global. It is easy to look at Mo now and forget the foundation: She began with just faith, vision, and a deep resolve to change the African narrative.

She did not inherit a media empire, she built it. She did not wait for the West to validate her stories, she produced content that celebrated us, for us, by us.

And guess what? She never stopped being a woman of grace, faith, and elegance while doing it. She remained relatable, grounded, and fearless. In an industry that often demands women sacrifice authenticity for power, she stayed true.

This is a crucial message for young women: You do not have to lose your femininity to be formidable. You do not have to compromise your values to succeed. And you certainly do not need to dull your light to make others comfortable.

In a world obsessed with superficial success and influencer fame, Mo offers a richer model, one built on substance, service, and strategic vision. She is not just a media mogul; she is a movement. Her legacy is not in skyscrapers or red carpets, it is in the minds she has inspired, the careers she has launched, and the culture she has helped shape.

Young woman, let this sink in: You have that same potential. You may not start with a platform. But you can start with a dream. A phone camera. A blog. A sewing machine. A laptop. An idea. The first step is all it takes. Do not wait until you feel ready, start while you are scared.

Do not wait until everything is perfect, build as you go. Do not shrink because society says you are “too ambitious”, expand anyway.

Build like Mo, but be authentically you, as you rise, take some notes from the Mo Abudu Playbook: Be bold, because if your dreams do not intimidate you, they are too small. Be relentless, and consistency wins when talent and luck fail. Be faith-driven, and let God guide what the world cannot define. Be team-minded, Mo did not do it alone. Build your tribe wisely, and be obsessed with your vision, even when no one else sees it yet.

Mo always says, “God is my X-Factor.” And indeed, that spiritual anchor is what has carried her through every chapter. So, as you dream, hustle, and build, never forget this: You don’t walk alone.

In conclusion, the revolution has a face. It is one thing to hear motivational quotes, it is another to see the living embodiment of one.

Mo Abudu is proof that it is never too late to start, and you are never too young to try. Her journey obliterates the false timelines and redefines success as a path paved by purpose, not pressure.

Young woman, you are not too early. You are not too late. You are right on time. Now go, write that script, start that NGO, launch that brand, produce that podcast, tell your truth.

Be bold. Be brilliant. Be beautifully, unapologetically you.

And when the world asks where your fire came from, tell them: “I saw Mo Abudu do it. And now, it is my turn.”

In the face of evil, silence is not just complicity, it can be a death sentence. The recent discovery of underground death pits in Umumba Ndiagu, Ezeagu Local Government Area of Enugu State, has horrified Nigerians and left many reeling from the sheer brutality of one man’s alleged reign of terror. Levi Onyeka Obu, infamously known as Ezeani or “Ichie Millions,” is accused of turning his compound into a grotesque shrine of death, a place where people, including children and pregnant women, were reportedly buried alive for ritual purposes.

The outrage from the community is palpable. His palatial home, equipped with exotic cars and laced with concealed soak-away pits containing decomposing human bodies, has now been reduced to ashes by angry youths. And while the police and local vigilantes have apprehended some of his accomplices while Ezeani himself was arrested by immigration officials in his bid to flee the country, a critical, yet underexplored, question remains: Where was his wife when all of this was happening?

This is not mere curiosity. This is accountability. A throwback video show the alleged ritualist and his wife in attendance at a particular public event in the community, and at that event, Ezeani sprayed money like confetti. According to members of this writer’s social media family, she was a visible figure, often seen by his side as he flaunted unexplained wealth. As the community and law enforcement dig deeper, it begs the question: Is it possible for a woman to live under the same roof with a man who ran a literal killing field and not know anything?

Many Nigerians believe the answer is a resounding “No.” And quite frankly, that suspicion is not without merit. It is hard to imagine that anyone could live in a house where human beings were buried alive, where decomposing bodies lay beneath sealed concrete, and not smell, see, or suspect something.

Yet, as compelling as that argument is, it is also necessary to take a step back and ask a more nuanced question: Could the wife have been coerced into silence? It is entirely plausible, even likely, that Ezeani’s wife was not just a silent spectator but a woman who may have been terrorized into silence.

In many cultic and ritualistic environments, fear is a powerful silencing tool. Ezeani, a man who allegedly murdered children and pregnant women for ritual gains, is obviously capable of unimaginable cruelty. What would stop such a man from threatening his own wife, or their children, into obedience?

Moreover, in patriarchal settings such as Nigeria, many women are socialized to obey their husbands without question. If she had suspicions but was constantly gas lighted or abused, her psychological imprisonment would be just as potent as physical chains.

In extreme cases of abuse, women are known to play along in public, putting on a brave face, dancing at parties, and smiling for the camera, all while living in constant fear. So, those videos of the wife at social events with Ezeani may not tell the whole story. Still, ignorance is not innocence, and while coercion is a possibility, it does not absolve her from scrutiny.

In fact, living in a house that eventually turned out to be a cemetery raises unavoidable questions: Did she never wonder why there were sealed pits? Did she never ask what went on in the “shrine”? Was she never alarmed by the odd movements, the visitors, or the inexplicable wealth?

If she ignored all that in the name of loyalty, then hers was a loyalty misplaced. If she participated, actively or passively, then justice must take its full course.

The most haunting part of this saga is the testimony of the 13-year-old girl who was rescued from a pit where she had been dumped, presumably waiting to be sacrificed. She recounted how she and her father went to fetch firewood, only to be intercepted by Ezeani’s men. The girl was taken and thrown into a pit, where she began to cry until Neighborhood Watch operatives saved her.

This child’s survival was a miracle. And her testimony opened the floodgates that led to the uncovering of Ezeani’s horrors. Two decomposing bodies were discovered, and several other suspects, including a man who admitted visiting the shrine for rituals, have been arrested.

The Enugu State Police, led by Commissioner Mamman Bitrus Giwa, have done commendable work in launching a manhunt for Ezeani and arresting his accomplices. The Enugu State Government has since demolished the buildings used for the heinous crimes. But the investigation must go further.

Given the backdrop of the foregoing interrogative questions, the wife must be questioned. Not with pitchforks or mob justice, but with the full weight and professionalism of the law. If she knew, and aided her husband in any way, she is an accomplice. If she kept quiet out of fear, then she may be a secondary victim. The line between the two must be clearly drawn.

Analyzed from a broader perspective, this tragedy also shines a light on a cultural issue we must confront: blind spousal loyalty. Too often, women are taught to “stand by their men” no matter what. But there must be a limit, and that limit must be evil.

Every wife, and indeed every partner, has a moral duty to ask questions. If your husband’s source of wealth is suspicious, ask. If he turns your house into a fortress where no one enters or leaves freely, ask. If there are sealed pits, sealed rooms, or suspicious visitors, demand answers. Silence, in such cases, is complicity.

In fact, the prosecution of Ezeani will no doubt bring some measure of justice to the victims and their families. But this must go beyond one man. All those connected to him, including his wife, must be thoroughly investigated.

She might have been a co-conspirator. Or she might have been a prisoner in her own home. Either way, the truth must come out.

And to women across the country: know your husbands. Ask questions. Because in a world where monsters wear human faces, ignorance is no longer an excuse.

The focus of the Federal Civil Service Commission ( FCSC) on enthroning meritocracy in the nation's civil service is in sync with President Bola Tinubu's Renewed Hope Agenda, especially his expressed desire to run a government of national competence, according to Prof. Tunji Olaopa.

Prof. Olaopa who is the Chairman of the FCSC, spoke at the weekend at a meeting during the courtesy call by the leadership of the Alumni Association of Legislative Mentorship Initiative (LMI).

The executive of LMI was led by its President, Abubakar Tijjani-Garba, during a courtesy visit to Olaopa in his office in Abuja.

The LMI is a fellowship founded by Rt. Hon. Femi Gbajabiamila, CFR, the 9th Speaker of the House of Representatives and the current Chief of Staff to the President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, GCFR.

According to Olaopa, the FCSC is being repositioned to restore the prime place of merit in career management in the civil service, through a concerted strategy for a structured and more systematic execution of the merit principle, and therewith, reprofile its application in the implementation of the federal character policy within the framework of an overarching strategy to restore competency-based operations and human resource management in the civil service.

To him, the overall objective of the quest for meritocracy is the recreation of the glorious days of the civil service of the 1960s and the 1970s and thereby transform the service into a world-class institution.

The professor of public administration said that even before he was appointed as the chairman of the FCSC, he had been interested in the notion of a government of national competence as espoused by His Excellency the President. Thus, he is interested in creating an enabling climate within the space governed by the FCSC, that will encourage more talented youths and high-end professionals to want to make a career in the public service.

According to him, the FCSC is aware of the imperative to make the civil service attractive to the millennial generation and Gen Z.

He said this whole dynamic will lead to job re-evaluation, the rethinking of the intellectual bases of skills of the many cadres in the service and their re-skilling, and institution of a more competitive and affordable wage system operated within technical-rational parameters as a "basis for significant restoration of the Federal Government status as an employer of choice in the national economy".

While he noted the importance of youths showing interest in the civil service, he, however, acknowledged that the sector is not meant for all-comers.

According to him, some youths will go into the military, the private sector, self-employment and other endeavours outside the civil service. Meaning that there is a specific orientation that recommends a professional public servant and some distinct attributes that stand him or her out.

Acknowledging the vital place of the youths in national development, Olaopa said that they "constitute a template for rewriting the dynamism of the national project burdened by the tragic narratives of ethno-regional and religious issues ".

Consequently, he noted that whatever would strengthen what he identified as the youth agenda would require significant reforms in the public, civic society and in the education sector. Thus for him, what is needed in the educational sector is not just book learning but intentional drive to support mental remodeling to build national capacity for "learning to live together" as " a significant component of national values reorientation to harness and transform our diversity into a defining social capital".

In this regard, he commended the vision of Gbajabiamila to prepare the younger Nigerians through LMI for pubic sector leadership. He said Gbajabiamila continued to commit his resources to LMI even after transiting from the position of the Speaker of the House of Representatives to the office of the Chief of Staff to the President.

Earlier, Tijjani-Garba said that they were at the commission to express appreciation to Olaopa for his contribution to LMI and especially his role as a mentor to its members. He said his books had greatly impacted their lives.

Tijjani-Garba outlined some of the coming programmes of the LMI that he urged Olaopa to support. They include the birthday of LMI's founder Gbajabiamila that will be celebrated on Democracy Day.

Other programmes include the launch of an alumni book where they want Olaopa to be the reviewer , and a pre-United Nations Assembly event.

The members of the LMI also want to canvass a review of the nation's educational curriculum and embark on a give-back to the community programme that include tree planting and a novelty match.

LMI fellowship is designed to equip young Nigerians with the necessary knowledge, skills, competence and experience to take on public sector leadership effectively. Since its inception in 2022, it has recorded significant milestones and graduated exceptional young leaders that have gone on to assumed important leadership roles across the country.

Dear President Bola Ahmed Tinubu,

Permit me to proceed without the pleasantries of office…but do accept all the courtesies of the office.

When you assumed office two years ago on May 29, 2023, you invoked a “Renewed Hope Agenda.” You promised to dismantle the “chokehold on our nation’s neck”—fuel subsidies and a corrupt exchange-rate regime—declaring, “The hardest decisions are often the least popular, but the most necessary.” Your words echoed the resolve of King David in the Christian Holy Book, who crushed Sheba’s rebellion to preserve Israel’s unity. Today, Nigeria stands at a similar precipice. History will judge whether you seized this moment to steer us from the doldrums or retreated when courage was paramount.

King David’s throne was threatened not just by external enemies but by internal fractures. When Sheba incited revolt, David acted swiftly, dispatching loyalists to quell discord. His lesson? Leadership demands choosing “the difficult right over the easy wrong.” You, too, faced a nation “drifting perilously toward the abyss”. Your Day One reforms—subsidy removal and naira floatation—were Davidic in boldness. As your aide Bayo Onanuga noted, Nigeria was hemorrhaging ₦4 trillion in subsidy debts, while arbitrageurs exploited multiple exchange rates. You broke this “stranglehold on our future”.

Yet, like David, you govern amid fury. Inflation soared to 34%, food prices spiked 40%, and protests erupted over “colossal suffering”. Nigerians ask: Where are the tangible gains?

Two years on, your administration touts macroeconomic victories: External reserves surged from $4 billion to $38–$40 billion. GDP growth hit 4.6% in Q4 2024—a decade high. Tax revenues doubled, with states receiving ₦6 trillion extra to build roads and schools. Security gains include a 28% drop in violent crime and 8,000 terrorists eliminated. And these are figures I do not want to contest!

But macroeconomic metrics ring hollow to the mother in Kano paying more than ₦900/litre for fuel or the farmer in Benue fleeing bandits. The World Bank acknowledges reforms have yet to ease poverty or food insecurity. As Atiku Abubakar lamented, Nigeria now hosts “class-based systems where the wealthy enjoy VIP treatment” while the poor fight for crumbs.

Where is the Renewed Hope for them?

Like David, you cannot turn back. Sheba’s rebellion grew when unity frayed; Nigeria’s fissures—ethnic distrust, youth disillusionment, sectarian violence—demand the same strategic resolve.

There is a need to double down on economic reforms: Subsidy removal saved us from collapse, but the BUA Group chairman captured the irony: We subsidized entire regions, with Niger Republic thanking us for cheap fuel. Now, consumption has dropped 40–50% as smuggling eases. Use these savings to accelerate infrastructure: The Lagos-Calabar Highway and Sokoto-Badagry road promise ₦1.3 trillion annually when completed. Partner the private sector on PPPs like the Dasin Hausa Dam and MediPool medical hubs.

Restore Security—The bedrock of prosperity: farmers are “returning to their fields” in the Northwest, yet banditry festers. Replicate the success of the National Command and Control Centre, which slashed emergency response times by 43%. Deploy tech-driven solutions—e-gates, biometric screening—beyond airports to flashpoints.

Invest in Nigeria’s true wealth: Its people: The 3 Million Technical Talent Initiative trained 750,000 youths in AI and mechatronics of. Scale this! Link student loans (now accessed by 500,000) to job creation in agriculture and renewables. As the BUA chairman urged: “Bet on Nigeria”. His $1 billion investments prove confidence follows boldness.

Mr. President, history remembers David not for his perfection but for his unwavering commitment to Israel’s survival. You stand at a similar crossroads. As one citizen wrote: “This is not just a documentary. It is the story of a nation refusing to fail”. But hope is fraying.

Do not confuse criticism with rejection. When Abigail confronted David, she saved him from “bloodguilt” by speaking hard truths respectfully. Nigerians seek that dialogue: We see your reforms’ potential but demand empathy in execution. Ease food inflation with targeted subsidies for farmers. Make state governors accountable for federal allocations. Silence critics not with rhetoric but with results.

Mr. President I have an unyielding resolve why I will not turn my back on Nigeria

And permit me to explain in this manner, in Nigeria’s spiritual and civic landscape, the hymn “I Have Decided to Follow Jesus” resonates with renewed urgency. Its declaration—“No turning back, no turning back”—transcends religious devotion to embody a patriotic covenant for every citizen who refuses to abandon Nigeria despite her trials. This profound vow mirrors the unwavering commitment required to nurture our nation toward its destined greatness. As political storms rage and institutions falter, this anthem becomes my moral compass, demanding not passive allegiance but active fidelity to truth and justice.

Nigeria stands at a spiritual and civic crossroads. Many young Nigerians, disillusioned by institutional failures, are re-evaluating their commitments—whether shifting from Christianity/Islam to indigenous beliefs or questioning national loyalties. This introspection reflects a deeper hunger for authentic integrity in both faith and citizenship. Just as the hymn’s early adherents faced persecution for their resolve, modern patriots confront the cost of loving a nation scarred by corruption, violence, and inequality. Yet true patriotism, like true faith, thrives not in comfort but in courageous constancy. The hymn’s refrain rejects retreat, compelling us to plant our feet firmly on Nigerian soil and declare: This homeland is worth the struggle.

To “follow Jesus” in Nigeria today is to embrace His defiance of corrupt authority. It demands that we channel spiritual resolve into civic courage: Condemn Corruption: Like the $6.2 million stolen from the Central Bank under false pretenses, systemic graft persists because too many choose silence over risk. Challenge Injustice: The political turmoil in Rivers State, where youths clashed over legitimacy, exemplifies the bloodshed bred when truth-tellers retreat. Reject False Nationalism: Christian and Islamic nationalism that conflates divine mandate with political dominance betrays the hymn’s call to sacrificial service.

Patriotism here is neither flag-waving nor anthem-singing—it is the uncomfortable labor of holding power accountable, knowing backlash may follow.

Nigeria’s redemption lies in our stubborn refusal to flee. Abuja and Lagos rank among Africa’s cheapest cities for expatriates, yet this “affordability” underscores the poverty strangling millions. Our resolve mirrors the hymn’s “Though none go with me, I will follow.” We must anchor in community, reject isolationist piety; true patriotism builds bridges across ethnic and religious divides.

We must invest in justice, support anti-corruption institutions to do the right thing, and protect whistleblowers.

As historian Chijioke Ngobili observes, Nigeria’s youth—future “intellectuals, politicians, capitalists and policymakers”—hold the keys to national renewal. Our exodus would ensure her collapse; our steadfastness births her resurrection.

“I have decided to follow Jesus” is more than a hymn—it is a civic oath. Nigeria’s wounds—from oil spills in Bayelsa to political violence in Rivers and banditry and terror in the North—cry out for citizens who will not barter conscience for comfort. Let us stand where others flee, speak where others whisper, and build where others destroy. With the martyrs’ resolve, we declare to our motherland: “The world behind me, the cross before me—no turning back.” For in her soil lies our sacred duty; in her future, our divine destiny.

Mr. President, you once declared, “The mission continues”. Two years ago, you broke the eggs to make Nigeria’s omelette. Today, citizens starve as the pan heats. Yet turning back now would waste every sacrifice. History’s verdict hinges on whether you channel David’s resolve: Crush the rebellions of corruption, apathy, and division. Stitch Nigeria’s fraying fabric with equity and vision. Then—and only then—will Renewed Hope become tangible.

No retreat, Mr. President. No turning back—May Nigeria win!

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The age-old saying, “Politics is a dirty game,” has rarely found more vivid expression than in the recent storm swirling around Governor Umo Eno of Akwa Ibom State. That expression, steeped in the bitter truth of betrayals, propaganda, emotional manipulation, and character assassination, perfectly captures what the embattled governor is facing in the wake of fresh controversy sparked by a resurfaced video of his own daughter accusing him of complicity in her mother’s death.

The late Mrs. Patience Eno, the state’s former First Lady, was reportedly lost to an illness in September 2024. By all official accounts, her passing was peaceful and in the presence of family. However, a disturbing video, now making the rounds again after initially emerging shortly after her death, paints a different picture, one soaked in grief, suspicion, and political undertones.

In the video, Jane Eddidiong Ufot, who serves as the governor’s Senior Special Assistant on Health, Safety, and Environment, emotionally accuses her father of having “sacrificed” her mother and warns of a potential threat to her own life and that of her daughter. It is a deeply personal and painful outburst, one that could easily be dismissed as a trauma-induced breakdown, if not for the fact that its circulation has been strategically timed to coincide with the governor’s second anniversary in office.

Let us not be naïve: this is not just a family squabble aired in public, it is political warfare. Governor Eno has called the re-emergence of the video a calculated move by political enemies to destabilize his government and distract from his administration’s achievements. And he may be right. After all, why else would a video recorded in the raw days of grief suddenly resurface months later, just as the governor is celebrating governance milestones?

This is the classic playbook of dirty politics, weaponize personal tragedy, fracture public trust, and exploit internal vulnerabilities. The tragic part is that it works. When a man is accused by his own blood, public sympathy wanes fast, and political vultures smell blood in the water.

Even more telling is how the rumor mill kicked into high gear immediately after the governor appointed his eldest daughter, Lady Helen Obareki, to fill the role of First Lady and continue her late mother’s humanitarian work. This decision, logical and perhaps therapeutic within the family, was quickly twisted by detractors and gossips into whispers of a “second wife” and “hidden motives”, all without concrete proof.

Let us be blunt: Nigerian politics has never played by clean rules. It is a cutthroat arena where anything, even the death of a loved one, can be turned into a tool of destruction. From the tribal to the religious, from the economic to the deeply personal, no aspect of a politician’s life is off-limits.

Governor Eno’s case is both a personal tragedy and a political nightmare. A grieving father is now forced to explain his innocence not just to his daughter but to an unforgiving political class and an ever-curious public. His plea, “even in politics, families should be off-limits”, might resonate morally, but in the dirty game of politics, morality is a distant second to manipulation.

This saga should serve as a stark warning: those who seek public office in Nigeria must be prepared not only for opposition but for a level of personal vilification that borders on the satanic. The lines between family, governance, and warfare are increasingly blurred.

As Akwa Ibom continues to watch this drama unfold, one can only hope that the truth prevails and that political ambition does not permanently scar a grieving family. Because if the resurgence of Jane’s video is indeed the handiwork of political foes, then we must admit it: politics in Nigeria is not just dirty, it is dangerous.

At this juncture, it is expedient to ask that now that the governor’s daughter has spilled the beans, whether factual or not, “How can such personal attacks be mitigated politically?”

The answer to the foregoing question cannot be farfetched as mitigating personal attacks in politics, especially in a high-stakes environment like Nigeria, requires a multi-pronged approach. While it is impossible to eliminate them entirely (because politics will always have its dark players), political figures can take the following strategic, proactive, and reactive measures to lessen their impact.

First is to tighten the family circle and maintain internal unity. Why the foregoing strategy matters is that when a family member becomes the weapon, it hits harder than any opponent’s jab. Then, it is germane to ask about what should be done. Again, the answer to the foregoing question cannot be farfetched as political figures must ensure strong emotional, psychological, and communication support within the family. Grievances should be addressed privately and early. Therapy, counseling, and even regular family roundtables are not luxuries, they are survival tools.

In a similar vein, there is the need to always control the narrative through strategic communication. Why it matters is that if you do not tell your story, someone else will, and they will twist it.

What to do: Have a proactive media strategy in place, with regular updates about both governance and family milestones. In the face of a smear campaign, respond quickly, calmly, and factually, not emotionally. Use trusted voices, press briefings, and social media to get ahead of the story.

Also in a similar vein is the need for the deployment of reputation management experts, and why it matters is that public perception is everything.

What to do: Every high-profile political figure should have a PR team that monitors public sentiment, tracks damaging trends online, and crafts real-time responses. This isn’t just damage control—it’s political defense.

Again, there is the need to always digitally monitor and archive sensitive content as videos and voice notes can be easily doctored, leaked, or misrepresented. In addressing purifying this aspect of the dirty water in politics, it is expedient to anticipate that anything sensitive, especially family grievances, can go public. Use cybersecurity tools and legal measures to track the sources of leaks and hold perpetrators accountable. Legal threats or suits can deter repeat offenses.

Added to the foregoing viewpoints, there also the need to humanize, but never over-explain. Why it matters is that oversharing can fuel more gossip. Therefore, in responding to attacks, there is the need to show humanity without desperation. A simple message like, “My daughter is grieving. Like any family, we have had our challenges. Please respect our privacy,” goes further than dragging the family drama into a political arena.

Also in a similar vein is the need to build a loyalty-driven Inner circle. Why it also matters is that betrayals rarely come from strangers. Therefore, surround yourself with aides, advisers, and staff who are personally loyal, not just politically convenient. Vet people for loyalty as much as for competence. The most damaging attacks often come from within.

In fact, in swimming out from muddy political water, it is essential to use legal and institutional channels. Why the foregoing matters is that lies repeated without rebuttal become truth in politics. Therefore, it is expedient to file defamation suits where appropriate. Demand retractions. Petition regulatory bodies like the NBC (National Broadcasting Commission) or social media platforms to remove malicious content. Even if these do not yield immediate results, they create a paper trail that demonstrates seriousness.

Again, there is the need to appeal to the Public Conscience, tactfully. Why this also matters is that the court of public opinion is where most battles are won. Therefore, carefully appeal to Nigerians’ sense of decency: “Today it’s me, tomorrow, it could be your father, brother, or husband.” This often softens public anger and shifts focus from rumors to reality.

Also, stay focused on governance. Why it matters is that performance silences many critics. So, let your work speak. When citizens see roads, jobs, healthcare, and empowerment, they are less interested in gossip. Political noise is loudest when there is a vacuum in leadership performance.

Also, there is the need to build media relationships before crisis hits. This is because you will need allies in the media. The question again is, “What should be done then?” Cultivate relationships with reputable journalists and media houses. When crisis hits, these allies can help shape public discourse in your favor or, at the very least, give you a fair hearing.

The bottom line is that politics in Nigeria is war without bullets, but just as lethal. The best way to survive personal attacks is to prepare for them before they happen, respond to them with wisdom, and never let them derail your purpose.

In a country where bravery among uniformed officers is fast becoming a rare commodity, and where integrity is often sacrificed on the altar of bribery and self-preservation, the gallant action of Prince Orji Ugochukwu, a Nigerian Immigration Officer stationed at Gbaji along the Seme border, is nothing short of heroic. His decision to apprehend a wanted kidnapper and ritualist, despite pressure and a ₦10 million bribe offer, stands as a shining example of courage, professionalism, and patriotism in action.

It is often said that character is revealed not in comfort, but in the face of pressure. Officer Ugochukwu faced such pressure on a quiet Wednesday afternoon, while discharging his routine duty at his checkpoint on the busy Seme Road. What seemed like a normal patrol day quickly turned into a defining moment for his career and a point of pride for the Immigration Service.

According to his own account, he noticed a man on a motorcycle whose face struck a chord of familiarity. It did not take long before he remembered seeing the same face in viral photos of a wanted man, identified as Ezeani, also known by the aliases “Ichie Billion” and “E Dey Play E Dey Show”. The suspect had been on the run, accused of serious crimes including kidnapping and ritual killings.

Ugochukwu signaled for the motorcycle to stop. The rider ignored him and sped off. Many would have given up at that point, letting the suspect slip through the cracks. But not this officer. Acting swiftly, he mounted another bike and gave chase, overtaking the suspect at a second checkpoint farther down the road. He instructed the rider carrying the suspect to turn back toward his checkpoint, and this time, joined them on the bike to ensure no escape.

It was during this journey that the suspect began a desperate attempt to buy his way to freedom. First came the denial: He claimed the viral photos were of his brother, and that he was merely returning from a bank visit in Agbara. Then came the offers,  a staggering ₦10 million in cash, followed by a brand new iPhone 13 Pro Max, and a Tecno Camon 19. He pleaded. He lied. He tried every trick in the book to convince the officer to let him go.

But Officer Ugochukwu stood firm. He rejected all bribe offers and insisted on following protocol. Upon returning to his checkpoint, he snapped new pictures of the suspect and shared them with the Seme Border Patrol Command for verification. Once confirmation came that he had indeed apprehended the wanted man, he handcuffed the suspect and transported him directly to the Command’s head office.

The story could have ended there, another criminal caught, another day at work, but this is where we must all pause and reflect.

Given the height of bravery and integrity exhibited by Officer Ugochukwu, it is not out of place in this context to opine that he deserves to be celebrated.  The reason why he should be celebrated cannot be farfetched as he resisted a ₦10 million bribe.

In a country where stories of security operatives accepting bribes for even minor infractions are common, Ugochukwu’s decision to turn down such a massive offer is extraordinary. ₦10 million is not pocket change. In today’s Nigeria, where economic hardship is biting harder than ever, many would have taken the money, cooked up an excuse, and turned a blind eye. But Ugochukwu held the line.

In a similar vein, he unarguably risked his life.  This is as the suspect he apprehended was not an ordinary petty thief. He was a notorious kidnapper and money ritualist, whose crimes had allegedly terrorized entire communities. Chasing such an individual alone, without backup, shows a level of bravery that cannot be overstated. He put his own safety on the line for the greater good, and that is what true service is about.

Also in a similar vein, he protected national security. The foregoing view can be understood from the perspective of the fact that the Seme border is a critical exit route for criminals seeking to escape Nigerian jurisdiction. Had Ezeani successfully crossed over into Benin Republic or any neighboring country, extraditing him might have become a diplomatic nightmare. Ugochukwu’s swift response and commitment to duty closed that window permanently.

Not only the foregoing, he upheld the reputation of the immigration Service. In fact, this arrest comes at a time when public confidence in law enforcement is dangerously low. With stories of officers aiding criminals, harassing civilians, or participating in crimes themselves, Officer Ugochukwu’s act provides a rare moment of pride for the Nigerian Immigration Service. He has reminded Nigerians that the uniform can still stand for honour.

At this juncture, it is germane to ask, “What should be done now? The answer to the foregoing question cannot be farfetched as there is no denying the fact that gallantry must be rewarded.  If we fail to recognize and publicly honour people like Officer Ugochukwu, we create a vacuum, one that corruption will quickly fill. His action must not be treated as a routine duty but as a case study in integrity and courage.

Given the foregoing view that surrounds Officer Ugochukwu’s rare act of bravery and integrity, it would not be too much for the Federal Government to consider him for a National Honour, such as the Member of the Order of the Niger (MON). This is not just about rewarding him, it is about encouraging others. A clear message must be sent: Integrity and bravery are valued and will be honored in Nigeria.

In a similar vein, the Nigerian Immigration Service must act swiftly to promote him. His current rank should be reviewed in light of this heroic act, and an official commendation letter should be made public. A decorated officer becomes a role model for others in the force.

Also in a similar vein, philanthropists, civil society groups, and corporate organizations should consider rewarding this officer in their own capacity. Whether through a financial grant, scholarship for advanced training, or sponsorship to international security workshops, every token of appreciation counts. It tells our security personnel that integrity does pay, even if slowly.

In fact, in the midst of Nigeria’s multifaceted crises, insecurity, economic hardship, and moral erosion, stories like this are rare lifelines. They restore hope. They remind us that not everyone has sold their conscience. Prince Orji Ugochukwu’s refusal to accept a bribe, his courage to act when many would have looked away, and his loyalty to his badge are all reasons to celebrate him.

We must go beyond social media applause and WhatsApp status updates. Let this story be told in schools, in training academies, in town halls, and on national TV. Let the young see that choosing the right path, even when no one is watching, can still be worthwhile.

If we truly want to build a better Nigeria, we must start by recognizing the few who dare to do well. Officer Prince Orji Ugochukwu did not just arrest a criminal; he revived a nation’s hope in justice. And for that, he must be celebrated.