Let’s begin with a ‘positive inference’ from our former President Olusegun Aremu Obasanjo (GCFR), a Nigerian former army general and statesman who served as Nigeria’s head of state from 1976 to 1979 and later as its president from 1999 to 2007.

Regrettably on several occasions, Obasanjo expressed serious reservations about issues of governance and its negative effects on the citizens of the countries in Africa. Obj posited: “Let me go back to the beginning where we got it wrong—the western liberal democracy, that is what the Europeans have. When you look at the western liberal democracy, it is a product of their history, a product of their culture, a product of their way of life.” The thrust of this message is that, selectively, Obj largely glossed over his own tenure which was marked by so many controversies

The former president continued: “what Africa was practicing today was a mere reflection of ‘representative democracy.’ Furthermore, Abraham Lincoln describes it as a government of the people, by and for the people. But what do we have today? The Greek democracy affects everyone. Democracy has now become a representative democracy, and it hasn’t taken care of everyone. Democracy in Africa has failed because it’s not African, it didn’t have our culture and way of life. You will say, ‘go to court’ when you know that you can’t get justice. Democracy is dying in Africa, and to save it, it should be made in the context of Africa.”

Obasanjo and others concluded that democracy is no longer working in Nigeria. In a keynote address titled ‘Is Democracy Failing in Africa?’ Catholic Bishop of Sokoto Diocese, Matthew Hassan Kukah, lamented that it seemed like Nigeria’s democracy only worked for a few selected persons.

The cleric also noted that such feelings had fuelled a debate on the suitability of the Nigerian Constitution, which had constantly put pressure on the judiciary.

He said, “We as Africans inherited a system that is not ours, but we can’t say it is not relevant to us. There are differences between democracy in Asia and that of Africa. I feel sorry for judges. At the last election, even small me, had people calling me, complaining, talk to this, talking to that.

“There was pressure on judges to deliver justice. I agree that there’s an urgent need to clean up the mess. Democracy is about everything, and it’s about justice. Democracy and its principles are endless contestations. There are certain things God has given us which people can’t control.”

Following from above, the postulations of the former President Obasanjo and some stakeholders resonates with me, given that, I have also canvassed similar position in the past which was well captured in an article “NIGERIA FEDERAL STRUCTURE: THE NEED TO DOWNSIZE”. After all, we are neither westerners, nor easterners/anything else, but Africans/Nigerians. We need a system in which all six geopolitical and geo-cultural regions of the country should be allowed to have their preferred government type, and the centre, if it has to exist, just has representatives from the different regions. It is like all countries in Europe have their preferred government and send people to the European Union! For me, this is the only type of governance structure that can work for us.

In my opinion, democracy is not something you “decide” to install somewhere. It can only be the result of a process that goes through establishing good social, economic, and political practices in a society, such as equity, honesty, education, various freedoms (of expression, religion, etc.), and an (at least) acceptable level of PROSPERITY. Also, a series of coups in recent years has prompted much discussion about the state of democracy in Africa.

Conclusively, as a new bill for an Act to alter the provisions of the Constitution of the Federal Republic of Nigeria, 1999, to provide for the office of the Prime Minister as head of government and the office of President as head of state and to provide for a framework for the mode of election to the said offices, has passed second reading in the House of Representatives. I’d like to share with you an excerpt from one of my articles widely published over a decade ago:

“NIGERIA FEDERAL STRUCTURE: THE NEED TO DOWNSIZE” published by Sahara reporters, Vanguard newspaper, and many others on 9th of April 2014. Find below an excerpt from the article:

*As the ongoing National Conference gathers momentum, many Nigerians have been making good contributions towards the improvement of our system of governance. Some have argued for the scrapping of the Presidential System because it is expensive to run, and revert to the Westminster Parliamentary model that was bequeathed to us by our former British Colonial Masters in 1960. Although we agree that the Presidential system is expensive, it is in this system that Democracy is best practiced because of the practice of separation of powers. In a Parliamentary system, there is no separation of powers; rather, we have a fusion of powers. Members of the Executive arm are drawn from the Parliament, and as such, there is no checks and balances. This system thrives in Britain because the UK is a Monarchy where Her Majesty the Queen serves as the Head of State and a symbol of Unity and Sovereignty.*

Finally, the question of democracy failure or otherwise is rooted in the quality of our decisions collectively. Bearing in mind the sociocultural, economic effects and the natural results of adopting a new system of governance and these effects might be positive or negative, and may bring unexpected results. Therefore, the NASS should consider inputs from stakeholders before the passage of the bill on governance system, so as to avoid the pitfalls of the past.

A short four minutes, thirty three seconds video of what looks like Kogi senator, Natasha Akpoti-Uduaghan, worshipping at the Osun shrine in Osogbo is trending. If she is truly the one in the video, then her traducers better back off before the deluge comes with its fury. You do not beat the child of the goddess and get its applause.

Professor Karin Barber is a foremost authority in Yoruba praise names (Oríkì). In a 1990 piece, she tells two Osun goddess stories which may guide those fighting her daughter. The first, Barber says, is from a devotee of Oya which stressed the ferocity of Oya contrasting it with the meekness of her co-wife Osun: “Osun was the senior wife, Oya the junior. Oya was very beautiful, given to dressing up and showing off. She didn’t do her share of the housework. She was lazy, bossy, violent and unco-operative, and just sat there beautifying herself while her senior wife did all the work. Osun was mild and peaceable; she turned the other cheek to every insult and advised everyone to leave Oya alone. Osun said if Oya couldn’t be bothered to grind the pepper, she would do it herself. If Oya said she wouldn’t draw water, Osun would run and do it. Osun would say, ‘Just sit down and rest.’ Oya would sit there smirking and preening herself.”

Barber comments that “Osun is here represented as mild, patient and kind-hearted, easily overborne by the more forceful character of her co-wife. This is a picture of Osun presented in many stories.” But, Barber says, Osun’s own devotees “tended to stress the opposite view of her personality.” She can be angry; she can be ferocious.

The second story speaks to that other side of the goddess. Barber says she got the story from Baale Osun, the head of the Osun cult. It is a story that warns the bully not to take the goddess of love, beauty and procreation for granted: “In the ancient times all the orisa made a plan to get wealthy. They prepared a certain medicine which, if planted in yam-heaps, would produce money, children and all the things they wanted in life. In those days Osun was the only woman, and all the big Orisa – Ogun, $ango, Soponna – decided, despite Ifa’s advice to the contrary, to keep her out of the plan.

“They held their meetings in secret. But Osun overheard them. She was furious, and decided to get her revenge. After they had dug the heaps and planted the medicine, she crept out at dead of the night and sprinkled some of her river water on the heaps. The next day, the other orisa came out full of joyous anticipation to dig up all the good things from the heaps, but they found nothing there. They tried again the following day; again, Osun neutralised their medicine. Finally, they decided to take Ifa’s advice and invite Osun to join their scheme. They dug the heaps again, put in the medicine, and the next day they were all blessed with untold riches.” Barber says the storyteller concludes that “Osun is a woman like a man: no one can get away with provoking her.”

A statesman with loads of wisdom shared the video with me. He wondered why those big men lacked refinement; why they thought they could win the battle and the war at the same time without consequences. I do not know what they boast of in Akwa Ibom or Kogi Central. Whatever it is, they may have to race down to the Grove in Osogbo very soon for atonement. The goddess is angry.

The Nigerian presidency is an energizing elixir. It has proven to be very effective in breathing life into dry bones. To old creaky engines, it gives deep cleaning; it replaces worn parts and upgrades the lubrication system. Olusegun Obasanjo went in there and got transformed from an imprisoned stork to a clean-shaven ladies’ egret. The Balogun Owu has since refused to age. Muhammadu Buhari entered the Villa peaky, ill and ailing. He left the place with his engine and chassis reinvented. His successor, super rich Lion of Bourdillon, broke the Internet with gaffes, slips and falls during the 2023 campaigns. He hasn’t yet spent two years in the Villa but he has also had a dramatic TAM (Turn Around Maintenance). The rough idling, vibrations and engine misfires are all gone. His cooling system is now cool and steady. These and many more are what the man celebrated two days ago as he officially turned 73, robust and rounded. He had many nice things said of him by those who seek (or already have) his mercy and favours.

Where life expectancy is less than 50, netting seventy years plus is a boon. William Shakespeare rejects the withering properties of age and cuddles the vibrancy of youth. In his ‘The Passionate Pilgrim’, Shakespeare leaves lines of contrasts on ageing for us to read and ponder. He writes that “crabbed age and youth cannot live together.” And he explains why: “Youth is full of pleasure, age is full of care; Youth like summer morn, age like winter weather; Youth like summer brave, age like winter bare. Youth is full sport, age’s breath is short; Youth is nimble, age is lame; Youth is hot and bold, age is weak and cold; Youth is wild, age is tame.” Shakespeare ends those parallels with a yell of rejection and acceptance: “Age, I do abhor thee; youth, I do adore thee.”

Now, who is old, who is young?

People in the sciences say every person has two ages. They call one chronological age (number of years a person has lived); the other they say is biological, a person’s functional age. The Yoruba have a third category; they call it Atubotan (the after-death years). Short or long, the first is guaranteed for all; the second is a factor of luck and choice; the third is largely determined by how we spend the first two. Very few are blessed with all three.

Less than two minutes from a town called Iragbiji in Osun State is another called Ikirun. It is about ten minutes from my own Eripa. Long gone Oba Lawani Adeyemi was Akinrun of Ikirun. The oba gathered fame across Yorubaland for the audacity of his longevity. He thought it was his right to live long and he loudly claimed it. When courtiers and all who courted his mercy wished him long life, Oba Adeyemi’s standard response was “Ó di dandan” (it is compulsory). At well over 70 years, Adeyemi’s people made him oba in 1945. His enemies thought him already at the departure lounge. They said he would soon vacate the space for them to take. There are legends that say with every rumour of his death came the actual death of the rumour mongers. Soon, no one warned no one again before they stopped wishing the oba dead. As years rolled into decades, the oba’s enemies dried out, the ones still alive became his friends. They had to; Ó di dandan.

Adeyemi stayed put on that throne until 1989 when he bowed out quietly. His people still celebrate the years in his reign not because they were unusually long, but because they were largely positive in the life of the community. He had the years, he was functional. More importantly, he had Atubotan. The oba had many children; he did not spoil them with palace spoils. They do not need unmerited honorary doctorate degrees from backwater universities to remain tall. The oba trained all his children such that the late king continues to live long after his death. His grandson was a Head of Service of the Federation; another is one of the richest in 2025 Ibadan. The rich needed no paternal imposition before he got to the top of his trade. President Tinubu very well knows Crystal Hospital at Akowonjo in Alimoso Local Government area of Lagos, it belongs to one of the eldest of Oba Adeyemi’s children. One of the youngest is a veteran in Osun State House of Assembly.

Where I come from, we rejoice with the joyous which is why I join in congratulating our president on his 73rd birthday. But as he celebrated that occasion with pomp on 29th March – a day to Villa’s sumptuous Sallah, I hope he reflected on what his presidency has meant to the Nigerian outside official powers. Many are stranded on the rough, dusty road to survival. They trace their misery to the leader’s mirth; their poverty to the president’s pleasure. They think their agony is power’s easement. It is not funny.

A democracy that repairs only the leaders is roguish and immoral. Yet, as we tell all these things, wisdom dictates that we march seven steps near the king, and six steps in nuanced back off. In Alex Danchev’s ‘Waltzing with Winston (Churchill),’ we are told that “the loyalties which centre upon number one are enormous. If he trips, he must be sustained. If he makes mistakes, they must be covered. If he sleeps, he must not be wantonly disturbed. (But) if he is no good, he must be pole-axed.” Literally, to pole-axe is to attack, strike, or fell with or as if with a poleaxe. That is the price all who claim “number one” must pay when they are not acting good.  

The president preached sacrifice on his birthday but his birthday table showed assorted, sumptuous surplus, everything. His wrongheaded policies he described as “the right thing to do for our nation’s future.” His wife is a pastor, she should blow into his ear the saying that only the living praises the Lord. Can a leader whose subjects wallow in want get blessed with their prayers? Among the Bantu of Eastern, Central and Southern Africa are a people called the Mashona. Anthropologist Denys Shropshire in a 1931 journal article tells us that in that place is a bird called Mukaranga wa Mambo. The storyteller says this bird “begins by making excited, shrill, chattering cries until she is attended to, after which, flying with contented chirps from branch to branch, she brings the traveller to the promised nest of honey.” A starved, marginalised citizenry has neither honey nor applause for unfeeling, feasting rulers.

The vulture is Yoruba’s totem of longevity; a symbol of death and rebirth. The Yoruba say igúnnugún (vulture) would not die unless it is old. But they celebrate more than the years. What a man put in his age is more important than the years. Which is why I find Yoruba’s view of ageing and old age somewhat intriguing. There is an ambivalence here. They despise the ugliness of vulture but they covet vulture’s enduring agedness. They say because the vulture does not die young, they too must live longer than life. But they qualify it: The years must be years of peace and plenty. They covet what they see as vulture’s longevity but not its unsightly totality. They want long life but not ageing with the debilities it connotes. They ask if you’ve ever seen a nestled sick bird. They want life without its co-morbidities.

Nigerians see their government as a colony of vultures. In ageing and eating, the vulture is a bird of patience. It does not nurse the sick back to health. Instead, it waits for the hungry to die; it insists that rotten flesh is good food. Vulture is also a bird of opportunity. Nigeria is a vultures’ field. You ask why? I wonder too and I ask vulture biologists (ornithologists). They tell me that vultures approach dead or dying beings from openings – mouth, eyes, nostrils etc. And, Nigeria has many of such loopholes. Our vultures start the gutting from the guts, they then go to other inner organs for lunch. They move to the muscles and tear at the tissues. For supper, they access smaller spaces for tendons, they chew at other body parts; they clean out the carcass and move on to the next meal. When their earth completes its yearly revolution, they roll out the drums in celebration of their victory over their own people and land.

When vultures surround you, make sure you stay alive, do not die. Nigerians have really tried not to die for the vultures of power to rejoice over them. Now, if food avoids Vulture, what will Vulture eat? The human being called Yoruba says in a proverb that when what is edible is not available, what is not edible becomes edible. Vultures feed on vultures if that is the only available carrion. What you feel in Rivers and Lagos and Kano are hungry vultures circling weak vultures for food.

We celebrate the president at 73. He will live life longer than his presidential tenure. But we must tell him that his government retains its painfulness; the NYSC corps member’s description of his reign as terrible was apt. The town is bitter; the city is unpleasant. 

How then do we take back our country – if we ever had one? I am not the only person asking this question. But I am going to risk adding that if you are not satisfied with where your feet have taken you, the rational direction is to walk for change. Ask those who know the ways of vultures. If you do not want vultures around you, the effective way is to show them that which scares them: The effigy of a dead vulture.

Tensions between Nigeria’s central and state governments have long been the fault lines of its federal system; it is like a simmering struggle between authority and autonomy. The 1999 Constitution, though intended as a compass for governance, is riddled with ambiguities—grey areas that have, time and again, become battlegrounds for political and legal duels. Among the most contentious debates is the reach of Section 305(1), which grants the president the power to declare a state of emergency. But does this mandate extend to the unilateral removal of democratically elected state officials?

For years, this question has lingered like an unspoken riddle in the corridors of power, whispered in legal chambers and political gatherings alike. Now, it erupts into the open, thrust into the unforgiving glare of the Supreme Court by seven opposition governors of the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP). Their challenge is more than a legal contest; it is a reckoning—one that may redraw the contours of Nigeria’s federalism, recalibrate executive authority, and probe the very essence of democracy in the nation.

The Supreme Court, under Section 232(1) of the 1999 Constitution, has original jurisdiction in disputes between the Federal Government and state governments. This means it can directly adjudicate conflicts concerning constitutional interpretation. The ongoing case will test the limits of this jurisdiction, mainly whether the Supreme Court can provide clarification in the absence of a specific dispute between a state and the Federal Government. If the Court rules that interpretation alone is insufficient to activate its jurisdiction, it could set a precedent discouraging proactive legal resolutions, potentially allowing constitutional ambiguities to persist until conflicts escalate. However, if the Court determines that a general ambiguity affecting multiple states warrants judicial intervention, it will pave the way for a more dynamic constitutional review process that ensures legal clarity before crises arise.

This kind of legal battle is not unique to Nigeria. In advanced liberal democracies, governors often act as checks on presidential power. For example, during the COVID-19 pandemic, U.S. state governors resisted federal directives from President Donald Trump, asserting their constitutional authority over public health measures. Similarly, governors challenged President Jair Bolsonaro’s handling of the pandemic in Brazil, leading to significant legal battles that strengthened jurisprudence. Argentina has also seen multiple instances where state-level leaders acted against federal overreach, reinforcing the principle of decentralized governance. Nigeria’s case aligns with this broader global trend, underscoring how federalism functions as a check on executive authority.

Section 305 of the Constitution grants the president the power to declare a state of emergency, but the criteria remain broad and open to interpretation. Key questions include: What constitutes a “clear and present danger” to justify an emergency declaration? Should there be legislative oversight beyond the National Assembly’s approval? How does Nigeria’s standard compare to international best practices? The governors argue that the Supreme Court should establish precise conditions under which emergency powers can be invoked. The governors want the Supreme Court to define what circumstances justify a state of emergency. In 2004, former President Olusegun Obasanjo declared a state of emergency in Plateau State, leading to the removal of Governor Joshua Dariye. A similar scenario occurred in Ekiti State under President Goodluck Jonathan in 2014. These instances highlight the pressing need for judicial clarification to prevent arbitrary use of emergency powers, which, if unchecked, could be used as a political weapon against opposition-controlled states.

A critical aspect of this case is whether the president’s emergency powers extend to suspending or removing elected state officials. The governors contend that the Constitution does not grant such authority. Their argument is grounded in Section 1(2), which establishes Nigeria as a democracy where sovereignty belongs to the people; Section 5(2), which limits executive powers by constitutional provisions; and Section 305, which does not explicitly provide for the removal of elected officials. The Supreme Court’s ruling will set a precedent for the extent of presidential authority during emergencies. It will either reaffirm state autonomy or expand federal executive powers, shaping the balance of power in Nigerian governance. Many legal scholars have argued that the power to remove a democratically elected governor lies with the electorate and, in extreme cases, the legislature—not the president.

The Constitution mandates a two-thirds majority vote in each chamber of the National Assembly to approve a state of emergency. The governors question whether the voice vote method used in recent emergency approvals met this requirement. The Court’s decision will determine whether procedural irregularities can invalidate emergency rule declarations. If the Supreme Court rules that a voice vote is insufficient, it could impose stricter legislative oversight on emergency declarations, ensuring greater accountability and preventing unilateral executive actions from circumventing constitutional processes.

Regardless of the outcome, this case highlights the importance of legal challenges in refining Nigeria’s constitutional framework. Nigeria’s judiciary is responsible for addressing constitutional ambiguities to prevent future conflicts. The Supreme Court had a previous opportunity to clarify constitutional provisions regarding local government elections in Rivers State and more specifically the place of the Electoral Act 2022. However, the ruling did not address critical ambiguities, leaving unresolved questions in electoral jurisprudence. The current case presents another chance for the Court to provide much-needed legal clarity. The judiciary plays a crucial role in resolving ambiguities that could otherwise lead to executive overreach or political instability.

If the Court delivers a well-reasoned judgment, it could serve as a touchstone for future constitutional conflicts, reinforcing the judiciary’s role in shaping Nigeria’s democratic evolution. According to a 2022 survey by Afrobarometer, 73% of Nigerians believe that the judiciary should have more substantial independence to check executive excesses. This reinforces the importance of Supreme Court rulings in maintaining democratic integrity and ensuring that political expediency does not override constitutional safeguards.

This case will establish whether the president’s emergency powers include suspending elected officials. A ruling in favor of the governors could reinforce state autonomy while limiting federal intervention in state affairs. Conversely, a ruling in favor of the president could expand executive powers, setting a precedent for future emergency rule declarations. If the Court upholds broad presidential discretion, state governments may need constitutional amendments to safeguard their authority.

This decision will serve as a benchmark for defining the limits of emergency powers, shaping Nigeria’s governance structure for years to come. In India, the Supreme Court’s ruling in S.R. Bommai v. Union of India (1994) curtailed the central government’s power to dismiss state governments, establishing a critical precedent for federalism. Nigeria’s Supreme Court has a similar opportunity to develop safeguards against potential executive overreach.

This case could prompt the National Assembly to reconsider the discretionary powers granted to the president through constitutional amendment . Potential reforms could include defining emergency conditions more precisely, requiring judicial review of emergency declarations, and strengthening legislative oversight to prevent executive overreach. Eminent lawyers have argued that the lack of clear constitutional guidelines on emergency powers leaves too much room for executive discretion, which is dangerous for democracy.

The Supreme Court’s ruling will test its ability to separate partisanship from jurisprudence and focus on constitutional text, precedents, and democratic principles. If it prioritises technicalities over substantive legal interpretation, it risks weakening public trust in the judiciary. A 2022 report by the Royal Institute of International Affairs (Chatham House) on “Tackling Judicial Bribery and Procurement Fraud in Nigeria” found that about 61% of respondents believe that judges in Nigeria are likely to be politically influenced or accept bribes to influence their decisions, highlighting the need for impartial rulings.

The Supreme Court’s decision will be a defining moment for Nigeria’s constitutional democracy. If it upholds the governors’ argument, it will set a strong precedent affirming the independence of state governments, ensuring that executive powers remain within constitutional limits. If it rules in favor of expansive presidential authority, it risks tilting the balance of power.

Legal challenges like this one are essential for deepening Nigeria’s democratic institutions. Testing constitutional provisions ensures that governance is rooted in law rather than arbitrary power. The outcome of this case will have far-reaching implications for federalism, democracy, and the balance of power in Nigeria. Whatever the outcome, this case has forced a crucial legal reckoning, compelling Nigeria to confront the ambiguities in its constitutional framework. The judiciary must rise above partisanship, deliver a judgment that reinforces the rule of law, and safeguard Nigeria’s democratic evolution. A well-reasoned ruling will not only settle the immediate dispute but will shape the nation’s legal and political trajectory for generations to come.