OTHERS' VIEWS

OTHERS' VIEWS

My generation met him famous. His first novels he wrote as an undergraduate. One of them is the hugely popular ‘Weep Not, Child’; another is ‘The River Between.’ He was James Ngũgĩ, then he became James Thiong’o Ngũgĩ, then he stepped out fully and became Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o.

The African writer from Kenya who died last week worked really hard to repudiate everything that he thought oppressed him. He took out his scalpel and cut open the name he bore. He dropped the foreign and picked a labyrinthine label from his ancestral pouch. The language of his art was next. With the English language, he wrote himself to fame, then he dropped English and started writing in Gikuyu. If you thought Gikuyu wasn’t global enough, you could translate his works to English or whatever European language you wanted. Ngugi was rigid in his conviction. Was his muse playing with irony or contradiction or what figure of speech best describes his experiment with life? He dropped everything the oppressor brought to Africa. Yet, when death came last week, it met him in the very land that epitomises those things he ran away from – the United States.

Some forty-something years ago, ‘Weep Not, Child’ was prescribed for our school certificate exams. Some of us soon found in it much more than what WAEC said it was. It is a book of light; a writ of struggle and liberation. We ate and chewed and swallowed and digested it. From that story and the next and the next, I read in Ngugi an optimistic soldier of justice. He believed in the inevitable victory of light over darkness. ‘Weep Not, Child’ took its title from Walt Whitman’s ‘On The Beach At Night’. It is in that poem that the challenged child is told not to weep because “The ravening clouds shall not long be victorious” and “shall not long possess the sky.” But how long is not long enough? That book was written over 60 years ago. The sky is still possessed by the clouds.

The writer loved his country and gave it his all. But his ‘free’ country soon showed him the taste of pepper. ‘Independence’ has remained what it parades: an exchange of foreign oppression for domestic repression. Jomo Kenyatta is knighted in ‘Weep Not, Child’ as the hope of the oppressed. He became president and blighted the tall and the short who placed their hope in him. Ngugi was a victim. His recollections say: “writers were not spared. In 1969, a leading poet, Abdulatif Abdalla, was imprisoned for writing a pamphlet entitled Kenya twendapi? (‘Kenya, where are we heading to?’) It was my turn in 1977 for my play, ‘I Will Marry When I Want’, and novel, ‘Petals of Blood’. I was in a maximum security prison in 1978 when Kenyatta died and his vice-president, Daniel Arap Moi, took over. Though I was happy that Moi released me three months after his ascension to power, I soon realized that he had emptied the jails of hundreds of Kenyatta’s political prisoners to make room for thousands of his own. Where Kenyatta had imprisoned me for my writing, Moi sent three truckloads of armed policemen to raze to the ground the community theatre where I worked, eventually forcing me – and many others – into exile.”

That was his Kenya; and it was not just his Kenya. It was and is Africa. Dark Africa has “Two laws. Two justices. One law and one justice protects the man of property, of wealth and the foreign exploiter. Another law and another justice silences the poor, the hungry, our people.” No darkness could be darker than what is described here by Ngugi in ‘The Trial of Dedan Kimathi’. Yet, throughout his life, the man kept talking about light defeating darkness.

Even as dusk approached and he was going, going, Ngugi still wrote optimism in 2020. He said that Wanjikũ, his Gĩkũyũ mother, used to tell him: Gũtirĩ ũtukũ ũtakĩa: No night is so Dark that, / It will not end in Dawn, / Or simply put, / Every night ends with dawn./ Gũtirĩ ũtukũ ũtakĩa…”

Language frees and can also enslave. Ngugi said it contains the seed of life. It is a sword of freedom and can be a tool in the hand of the oppressor. The writer believed so and I agree with him. He says: “If you know all the languages of the world and you do not know your mother tongue, the language of your culture, that is enslavement. On the other hand, if you know your mother tongue, the language of your culture and you add all the languages of the world to it, that is empowerment.” He also spoke about labels. Addressing a group of young Africans, he interrogated ‘tribe’ as a lexical item of racial interest. “Tribalism is a colonial invention”, he said, and asked: “Why would 250,000 Icelanders be called a nation and ten million Yorubas are called a tribe, and not a nation?”

Ngũgĩ wrote seven novels, at least five plays, more than four memoirs, over eight collections of essays, and several children’s books. You are very familiar with ‘Weep Not, Child’ (1964), ‘The River Between’ (1965), ‘A Grain of Wheat’ (1967) and ‘Petals of Blood’ (1977). Yet the man almost denied us the benefit of some of his critical stories. His ‘Devil on the Cross’, published in 1980 was originally in Gikuyu as Caitaani Mutharaba-Ini. ‘Matigari’, another novel published in 1986 was also written originally in Gikuyu; the same with ‘Wizard of the Crow’ originally in Gikuyu as ‘Mũrogi wa Kagogo’. Why did he do that? “When you use a language, you are also choosing an audience …. When I used English, I was choosing an English-speaking audience…” He said in a February 1996 interview in India. A global citizen sits in the US and writes in a Kenyan language! What kind of rebellion informed that? What Kikuyu audience was the writer targeting in America? I wished I could ask him to provide answers to those queries.

The challenges he faced were matched by the sheer strength of his character, his resilient spirit. To him, “Life, struggle, even amidst pain and blood and poverty, seemed beautiful.” His life mirrored the blistered feet on Africa’s sherd roads, stubborn and untired. In ‘The River Between’, we encounter Ngugi’s river, the Honia, which he says, “meant cure, or bring-back-to-life.” That river never dried and “seemed to possess a strong will to live, scorning droughts and weather changes. And it went on in the same way, never hurrying, never hesitating.” I think that says something prophetic of the tardy black man as he soon became marooned between the drought of the past and the pestilence of the present. For most of his 89 years, Ngugi stood at the bank of River Africa watching “as it gracefully, and without any apparent haste, wound its way down the valley, like a snake.”

 

‘Darkness Falls’ is the title of a critical part of ‘Weep Not, Child’. For Ngugi Wa Thiong’o, writer of light, dusk dawned last week. As he ebbed away, one could imagine the horror in his eyes as he watched Africa’s inheritors do what the rains did in ‘The River Between’: “Carrying away the soil. Corroding, eating away the earth. Stealing the land.”

Africa’s predators are audacious; they do their thing right in the open marketplace. He cried out: “How do you satirise their utterances and claims when their own words beat all fictional exaggerations?” He asked in his ‘Decolonising the Mind: The Politics of Language in African Literature.’ But he was still full of hope that light would drive out darkness.

Hope appears to me his greatest asset. Till his canary stopped chirping, he never stopped asking the African child not to weep. He insisted that kisses of spoken and written words would soon birth a dawn of justice. In spite of all the death and destruction we see all over, he still believed that “This darkness too will pass away” and that “We shall meet again and again /And talk about Darkness and Dawn / Sing and laugh, maybe even hug…In the light of the Darkness and the new Dawn.” I do not know the peg on which his optimism was anchored. What we see is every new decade bringing darker misery. But we must listen to him. He was an elder who saw far even while seated. So, I ask him: Ngugi, before you cross the river, tell us: when is the new Dawn? And, where is the light you predicted? May your soul Rest In Peace.

If you think there are too many beggars on your street, please take heart. A trending video is showing a massive throng of Nigerian children and women being deported from Ghana where they were found doing street begging. They are said to be part of thousands of West Africans on Ghanaian streets. About 10,000 are said to be involved. Is there anything too shameful that we can’t and won’t export? 

The person who ran the commentary spoke in Hausa, a hint at where the beggars hailed from. I took a few minutes to read the video. I do not speak and do not understand Hausa, but I can read the face of sorrow when I see one. I saw exactly that in the worn-out faces and the sunken eyes of girls and women in that video. For them, living is obviously a punishment. 

It looks like what we see today is generational and a proof that Nigeria failed its people yesterday and today, and will likely do so tomorrow. 

A Ghanaian academic visited Zaria some 50 years ago and wrote of his shock at the swarm of child beggars on the street. His report, published in 1984, reads as if it speaks of today: “The stranger from another cultural milieu visiting Zaria for the first time may, depending on his historical experience, wonder or even be shocked at the sight of so many little children going about begging in the town. But as time passes, and with increasing familiarity with the sight, the critical thoughts which followed the initial shock are likely to give way to a gradual acceptance of the unusual experience as a normal condition.”

The study of the begging population throws up the following statistics: “Nearly half (45.5 %>) of the sample of beggars indicated that their parents were not beggars, for quite a sizable proportion (39.7 %>) both parents could be shown to be themselves beggars like their children. In a few cases, only fathers (6.2 %) or only mothers (2.8 %) of beggars were reported as being beggars as well. In much the same way, in 35.2 % of the cases, brothers and sisters of beggars were reported to be also beggars…” Those beggars of the 1970s and 1980s, where are they today? Could they be the parents of today’s beggars, including those traumatised kids deported from Ghana? 

‘Child Beggars in Nigeria’ is the title of a July 2022 report by Germany’s international broadcaster, Deutsche Welle (DW). The report starts with the personal tragedy of an 11-year old Amina who was forced to beg on the streets because of insecurity in her village. It then dwells extensively into “how northern Nigeria’s economic crisis is bringing more children to large cities such as Lagos, where they end up asking for money on the streets.”

In February 2022, the newspaper I edit carried the story of some women and children from the North who migrated to Ibadan to make a living for themselves and their families through begging. Nafisa Shehu and her mother were among the beggars found on the Ojoo Bridge. Nafisa sat among other begging children and from that point calmly told the reporter that her dream was to become a medical doctor. Nafisa’s story was published, it went viral, and a school in Ibadan contacted the reporter and offered Nafisa a scholarship from primary to medical school. 

If you thought her dream of becoming a medical doctor was becoming real, you missed it. It never happened. A meeting was arranged between the school and Nafisa’s mother, with the reporter present in Moniya, Ibadan. Some meddlesome interlopers who called themselves local Hausa leaders made sure they were present also. Proceedings were very positive. But the tragedy started from that point: Nafisa and her mother disappeared from the street shortly after the meeting. The only condition the school gave Nafisa was that she would be a full-boarding student. That was a huge problem for her mother who wanted her to beg while in school.

We still thought we could help. I told the reporter not to give up on that girl. And she did not. After several follow-ups, the reporter was told that Nafisa and her mother had travelled back to Katsina State where they came from. Fourteen-year-old Nafisa was being prepared to be married off. She must be a mother somewhere now, and possibly begging. 

So, you can see that shame of deportation from Ghana and harassment elsewhere won’t prevent the begging population from growing. There are rivers feeding the dam; the dam feeds the flood. Until we tackle the source of the disaster, it will continue to question the humanity of Nigeria, particularly northern Nigeria and its leaders. 

The bazaar  of  partisan politics is in open swing. The ruling All Progressives Congress, APC,  which has been attracting opposition politicians to itself like magnet, held its National Summit  on May 22, 2025 inside the Aso Rock Presidential Palace.

The venue is symbolic of the President’s powers and could not  be a conducive atmosphere for free debates that should attend a political party summit. The main resolution, which was doubtlessly why the summit held,is the APC declaring “President Bola Ahmed Tinubu as the Sole Presidential Candidate of the APC.” The haste to consecrate the President is  indecent and an assault to  probity and democracy. First, the President had not even gotten half way to his four-year tenure. Short of clairvoyance, how did the party assess the Tinubu  administration’s future performance? I know in the past, pools betting was popular in Nigeria; so, is the APC returning the country to some gambling tradition?

Secondly, the party by its decision, closed the door to all other possible contestants. What type of democracy is that? Thirdly, what is the message? That Tinubu is the alpha and omega of the APC and is therefore not only infallible, but also unchallengeable? As I scanned the summit, the participants appeared more like shareholders of  a privately quoted company waiting for company souvenirs like umbrellas, tea mugs and brooms to be shared before breaking for a promised lunch. But let me be fair to the APC as it has displayed far more gumption than its great Chairman Abdulahi Ganduje who, with a  mischievous smile playing around his lips, had declared ahead of the summit that there is no vacancy in Aso Rock come    2027 when the country goes for  constitutional general elections.    

In a sane  polity, such treasonable utterance should have resulted in Ganduje resigning  and being hurled before the courts.  But not in Nigeria where bottles of champaign might have been popped open to celebrate  such inanity. By the way, did the APC pay for the use of the Presidential Palace? If it did, can the Presidency please show Nigerians the receipt? If it did not, then for a  level playing  field, the place should be left open for other political parties that want to follow the APC footsteps in holding their party summits. Also, another thought crept  into my mind. When the APC endorsed Tinubu as its 2027 presidential candidate, I didn’t hear it mentioned that  Vice President Kashim Shetima  is also getting an automatic ticket. Perhaps the consecrated Tinubu would have the freedom to appoint his running mate.

Doubtlessly, we are not in  a healthy democratic state.  But the solution does not lie in any of the main political parties.   They all are complicit in the sorry state we find ourselves. They are all represented in the   National Assembly where it is ‘yes’ to  the President’s  desires.   Although we can reach a consensus that the vegetative eight years of President Muhammadu Buhari were an unmitigated disaster compounded by the   poverty-inducing policies of the Tinubu administration, we must not forget that the foundations of our socio-economic crises and state of insecurity were partly laid by the Peoples Democratic Party, PDP.   The bulk of the opposition politicians today were or are in the PDP.  

The fact is that the biggest and best investment in Nigeria is government. So, most politicians outside government are like orphans. Therefore, they are fighting  tenaciously to unseat the Tinubu administration. For this, they are employing  all sorts of subterfuge, including injecting vegetative political parties with steroids to revive them for coalition politics. A few weeks ago, self-acclaimed opposition   politicians met and one of   their main spokesperson was Senator Ishaku Elisha Abbo who had been shown the way out of the Senate in disgraceful circumstances. It was the usual verbiage: Tinubu is running a “government by exclusion and economic insensitivity”, and, of course, the ethnic card: that he is “neglecting the North”.

Then, there is the other major opposition party, the Labour Party, LP. The party  is of good parentage. I know this because I was one of its midwives. But unfortunately, it has always been used and dumped, UAD. In the past 20 years, the LP has been the refuge of politicians who could not secure the ticket of their parent, or preferred parties. Admittedly this has not been for free. Today, the LP has three persons claiming to be legally married to it. Doubtlessly, the strongest is His Excellency Peter Obi who rode it through the 2023 presidential election. He has not expressed any long term interest in it as he is busy registering his Obedient members which would serve him in good stead in case he needs to move out or consolidate his grip.

Whatever the case, the likeable Obi’s primary ambition is to be a presidential candidate in the  2027 presidential election. It is a personal ambition. He personally explained this  in an address to his young supporters in the last week of May, 2025. He said: “I believe we should have a retirement age for politicians. By 2027, I will be 65. If the presidency goes back to the North in 2031, it may not return to the South until 2039 — by then, I will be 77. I wouldn’t want to run for office at that age. It would make a mess of everything.” So, for him to realise his ambition to be President of Nigeria, he must be a candidate, and win. The ideology,   principles and policies of His Excellency are not different either from that of President Tinubu nor the PDP from which he had broken to pick the LP ticket. The only thing he offers that is different from other  politicians is style and a verbal promise to be prudent in the use of resources.  

As Nigerians, we have no business fighting ourselves over which of the mainstream politicians should lord it over us in 2027. It is not our duty to carry out propaganda on their behalf or chorus their singsong. We should learn from the history of slavery, especially in the Americas; that it   is unwise to debate which slave master is better or treats his slaves better. We should simply work to throw away our shackles and embrace freedom. Even if it is not possible for us to build a peoples’ party that can change the course of our history in 2027; we should at least be able to build a consensus on our irreducible minimum demands of any party or anybody that wants to rule.   It is clear that what we had on October 1,1960, when the British colonialists symbolically  left, was some political independence. We need another independence movement. If you agree, please contact me.

Who doesn’t know her? She needs no introduction – absolutely none. Her signature brand and classic style is unmistakable and often does not go unnoticed – chic outfit of different shades and colours of Ankara attires clad in simple but nicely done headgears, with the same Ankara material. “Mama Africa,” some call her. Dr. Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala is globally recognised for her outstanding impact on the world stage. A woman with a strong presence and personality, who has brilliantly succeeded in what some people would call a “man’s world” – her ability to navigate and overcome barriers and her unwavering strength and consistency are second-to-none, solid as the Rock of Gibraltar. 

As she’s fondly called in some quarters, NOI became the first woman and African to lead the World Trade Organisation when she assumed office as the Director General on March 1, 2021. A tenure of four years, which ends on 31 August 2025. The General Council of the WTO agreed by consensus of the 166 members to reappoint her for another term, which is set to start on 1 September 2025.

Her reappointment showcases the massive support for her leadership, emphasised by the Chair of the General Council, Ambassador Petter Olberg, who praised her accomplishments and was quoted to have said, “The General Council commends Dr. Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala for her outstanding leadership during her first term.

Amid significant global economic challenges, she strengthened the WTO’s ability to support its members and set a forward-looking agenda for the organisation. Her leadership was instrumental in securing meaningful outcomes at pivotal moments, including the 12th and 13th Ministerial Conferences (MC12 and MC13), where major milestones were achieved.”

 

We cannot say her first term has not been without a couple of trade problems. However, she has succeeded in managing the risks and is steering the organisation away from the murky waters. While attempting to lead, for another four years, a troubled organisation that has been low in terms of reaching new agreements due to increasing tensions between the biggest players – the US, the EU, China, Japan, India, UK, etc, her attitude has been crystal clear: that all the major global trade players should approach all the issues constructively and creatively. Her disposition: “Avoid any kind of disputes that would be detrimental to the functioning of the world trade system.”

While insisting on the “importance of rules-based global trading”, she has pledged to work harmoniously with all the dominant stakeholders and the world leaders, especially with Donald Trump, whose economic reforms and steps taken to restructure the US bilateral trade relationships and agreements have been criticised by several global leaders as putting gasoline on the world economy with a potential to tank it, and whom a few experts think may not want to be on the same page with her – “I look very much forward to working with President Trump… I am eager for it.” Nevertheless, many observers suggested the decision of the General Council to speed up the process of her reappointment was essentially to avoid Trump-America from blocking her candidacy just the same way he did in his first term. Keith Rockwell, a senior research fellow at Hinrich Foundation and a former WTO spokesman said, “The unstated objective was to accelerate the process, because they did not want Trump’s team to come in and veto her as they did four years ago.”  And the decision hasn’t gone unnoticed by the Trump team. A former trade official under Trump 1.0 criticised it as “completely politically tone deaf.”

Just like with the World Health Organisation (WHO), which the US recently pulled out its membership from, Trump has not hidden his disdain for some of the policies and operational methodologies of the WTO, especially on what he alleged as its softness on China’s wolfish economic practices against its competitors and the classification of the Communist China as a developing country. You get a sense that in Trump’s view, the WTO’s purported squishy treatment of China and a few other members may be responsible for much of the trade malpractices – particularly the bulk of the non-tariff operations.

 

The global stage was inundated by what can be called the sensational events that greeted the declaration of the WTO chief’s candidacy in her first term. While she received an overwhelming support from member countries across board for her candidacy, America under the Trump 1.0 did not. This blatant and vehement opposition, which sparked widespread reactions, resulted in many experts trying to offer the probable reasons for the resistance. Quite a number of commentators believe it may likely be hinged on performance. The Trump’s team believe that being a development economist even with a profound track record spanning about a quarter of a century at the World Bank and as Nigeria’s Minister of Finance and Coordinating Minister for the Economy, she knows little to nothing on trade. This position was underscored by Trump’s former trade representative, Robert Lighthizer who said, “His stated view was that Ngozi doesn’t know the WTO and is not a trade person.”

If the fears of her performance and delivery on the job was actually the reason she was not supported by Trump, then it is untenable now and goes without saying as her first four years have stood in sharp contrast to that, demonstrating over and over again that she is no fluke and does not fit the bill of a non-performer. It is clearly a smoking gun that even her deadliest critics cannot refute that she has done phenomenally well. In her current term, she has driven policies that allowed members to forge stronger trade and economic ties, and until a few months ago, the world had lived out a period of tranquillity and progress as far as trade relations were concerned.

Beyond doubt, Dr. Okonjo-Iweala has been unapologetically trade-centric as the WTO Chief, against the speculations, which are legendary, of many that she would stonewall the smooth implementation of trade relations. She has proved them wrong as she has not ground the gears of global trade to a halt and her time at the helm of affairs of the WTO has not whiplashed the foreign trade community. Her masterstrokes, all of which are intricately intertwined, have been how she sustained and deepened trade alliances across geopolitical regions, easing tension and pushing for the de-prioritisation of the national interests of individual members on trade, instead, pushing for the consummation of trade transactions in the interest of global unity and prosperity – incentivising cooperation to minimise protectionism, a sticking point to seamless global trade.

To others, nonetheless, Trump’s penchant for racially-motivated rhetoric, considered discriminatory and offensive by a section of people of a specific race, may have influenced his decision not to back Dr. Okonjo-Iweala in her first term. Many folks believe his alleged remarks about the African continent, which at times have been nothing short of uncomplimentary, may have been responsible for his refusal to support her. Whatever it was, I strongly think the dynamics in his second presidency should take a whole new twist. In line with the assertion of Martin Luther King Jr, the WTO Chief’s time in office should not be judged by the colour of her skin but the content of her character, and I dare say too, that it should be evaluated by her achievements and profound credibility.

 

The ongoing unease in global trade relations, which has created apprehension and a feeling of restlessness for many countries as far as trade is concerned, is playing an enormous part in driving the WTO Chief to actively and passionately pursue collaboration with the heavyweights in foreign trade to relieve the concerns which are palpable and avoid getting into acts that would jeopardise the survival of the international trade community – a case of simply avoiding a situation of here today, gone the next.

Beyond question, the global trade network is looking forward to a monumentally successful second term of the WTO under the strategic leadership direction of Dr. Okonjo-Iweala. In all of this nonetheless, I am optimistic, cautiously though, that the biggest competitors in the global trade structure would not put a heavy thumb on the WTO but would be equitable, fair and balanced. It is equally hoped that the two largest economies in the world – the US and China, would close trade ranks and choose a path that will be uniquely focused on leading the pack and getting on a little bit better with the WTO under an African-American woman, who herself has not been sleeping on the wheels in her quest to provide unparalleled leadership needed to forge a new and prosperous future for all members and key stakeholders.

In conclusion, it is like a potter working on a clay pot, which ends up in a mess, as is often the case. The solution? The potter simply makes a fresh start using the same clay to make another pot. In like manner, there is a growing push to see a fresh, glowing start not just among the biggest global trading partners, but more importantly, these super powers enhancing their partnerships with the WTO to guarantee the success of the multilateral trading system. It is anticipated that for example, the attitude and disposition of Trump’s America in the second term of Dr. Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala will be dramatically upended. One would hope: he deploys the same amount of energy and resolve in opposing her candidacy in her first term to fully, unequivocally collaborate with her over the next four years and as the leader of the free world, demonstrate strong leadership required to obliterate any noticeable rifts that shape global trade patterns which normally arise due to wavering global priorities.

Ande, a financial and political economy analyst, writes from Lagos and can be reached via This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.

Two years can feel both fleeting and painfully long in Nigeria. Seven hundred and thirty dawns have rolled across the savannah, the creeks, and the sprawling megacities since the last electoral hoopla promised a national rebirth. We now stand midway between ballots, yet conversation in Abuja’s corridors is drifting toward 2027 slogans when democracy must earn its keep in the seasons between elections. The urgency of the next campaign should be postponed until we have addressed the daily audits posed by breadwinners, commuters, farmers, and students who have lived through every one of those 730 days.

This daily audit includes answers to the following questions: Are Nigerians better off now than they were in 2023? Is the economy better off now than in 2023? Has there been a measurable decrease in terrorism, kidnapping and violent crime rates since 2023? Are we better off with electric power today than we were in 2023? Do Nigerians have access to more and better food than they did in 2023? ⁠Are Nigerians more united today than they were two years ago? Are more resources being allocated to local and state governments today, and how does this affect development at those levels? Do more Nigerians have access to quality education and healthcare today? Has corruption been reduced? Are laws applied equally to all citizens, including government officials? Until those who occupy offices sincerely answer these questions – we cannot talk about progress. These are not just statistics, but the daily realities of the average Nigerian.

Let’s start with the matter of feeling safe. Guns have fallen silent in a few long-suffering districts while new flashpoints have erupted elsewhere. One can cite downward-trending incident charts in Zamfara or Katsina but also point to the resurgence of mass kidnappings on the Abuja–Kaduna axis and plateau –Benue axis. According to data from SBM Intelligence, Nigeria recorded over 3,600 abductions between May 2023 and April 2025, with the North-West and North-Central zones remaining the most affected.

Yet, in areas like Borno and Yobe, incidents of Boko Haram violence have significantly decreased, thanks in part to renewed counter-insurgency strategies and regional collaborations under the Multinational Joint Task Force. The grandmother who now sleeps with both eyes shut in her Borno village may indeed feel progress, but the family still cobbling together ransom money in the South-East wonders what “progress” means. Safety is ultimately measured in the heartbeat that no longer races when dusk approaches.

 

Electricity tells its own story. Nigeria’s grid capacity currently hovers between 4,500 to 5,000 megawatts on most days, barely improving from the 4,000 MW average of 2023. Yet, despite promises of improved power supply, the country experienced no fewer than seven national grid collapses between May2023 and May 2024. Diesel now sells for over ₦1,500 per litre, up from about ₦850 in early 2023, making self-generation increasingly unaffordable.

Mini-grid interventions, particularly solar installations supported by the Rural Electrification Agency, have provided stable electricity to over 500,000 households in underserved areas, including Ogun, Nasarawa, and parts of the Northeast. But in most urban neighbourhoods, the hum of private generators remains the national anthem after sunset. Reliable power, ultimately, is best expressed not in megawatts but in refrigerators that stay cold and homework that is finished beneath a steady light bulb.

In the fight against corruption, promise and disillusion continue their tug-of-war. Televised arrests of “big men” in the government’s early months suggested no one was untouchable, but the glow dimmed as plea bargains and closed-door settlements multiplied. Anti-graft agencies complain about thin budgets while lawmakers debate fresh immunity clauses. The Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) reported 4,111 convictions in 2024, a record number. High-profile cases, including those involving former governors and serving senators, were reopened; however, many ultimately ended in plea bargains or were delayed in court.

 

In October 2023, President Tinubu suspended the EFCC chairman over allegations of misconduct—an irony not lost on citizens who hoped for a cleaner era. Justice is less about dramatic arrests than about quiet transparency: a national procurement database that tracks every public contract or a judiciary that concludes cases in months, not decades. Until the law holds the powerful to the same standard, each new anti-corruption czar will appear like the latest actor in an overplayed drama.

Macroeconomic statistics paint a fractured portrait. While Nigeria’s GDP grew at 2.98% in Q1 2024, inflation climbed to 33.69% in April 2025, its highest in nearly three decades. The naira has depreciated by over 65% since the removal of fuel subsidies and the unification of the exchange rate. In 2023, a 50kg bag of rice sold for ₦35,000; in 2025, it hovers at around ₦75,000, and the arithmetic is merciless: a salary that rises by ten per cent in a year of thirty-per cent inflation is a pay cut in disguise.

The National Bureau of Statistics (NBS) reports that over 63% of Nigerians are now multidimensionally poor, with inflation eroding the purchasing power of even those who are formally employed. Policymakers celebrate tech unicorns and export growth in non-oil sectors, such as sesame and cocoa, yet market women judge the economy by the cost of Koko and Kosai, Garri and palm oil. Aneconomy “on paper” does not cook Ogbono soup.

Still, some green shoots poke through the cracked soil. Fintech and creative industries continue to prove that young Nigerians, when not hamstrung by policy miscues, can compete far beyond their borders. The creative economy continues to soar, with Afrobeats grossing over $1 billion globally in 2024 and Nollywood titles featured on international platforms like Netflix and Amazon Prime. Nigeria’s tech sector attracted over $1.3 billion in foreign investment in 2023 alone, with hubs in Lagos, Abuja, Enugu and Port Harcourt producing fintech solutions that serve millions across Africa.

 

In agriculture, agricultural technology outfits are making incremental gains in yield, and programmes like the National Agricultural Growth Scheme (NAGS) have distributed inputs to over 1.2 million smallholder farmers. However, insecurity and climate variability have stunted large-scale productivity. Food remains both sustenance and mirror: when conflict empties farms, and climate change scrambles rainy seasons, a plate of cookedrice becomes a fragile triumph.

Decentralisation ought to bring the state closer to its citizens. Following fuel subsidy reforms, monthly FAAC allocations to states have increased by over 60% between mid-2023 and early 2025. Yet many state governments have not translated this windfall into visible improvements. For example, Niger, Enugu and Kaduna states have begun investing in technical education and road infrastructure, but local government transparency remains weak. Roads, water schemes and primary-care clinics ought to blossom in tandem, yet potholes and abandoned projects remain stubborn. Money arrives in capitals more reliably than it reaches ward level, where a broken borehole means girls trekking for hours to fetch water. The grassroots will remain neglected until public finance is matched with public accountability.

Healthcare and education—the twin pillars of human capital—show modest but inconsistent progress. New primary health centres have opened, but many lack essential resources, such as drugs and nurses. The National Health Insurance Authority now allows mobile phone enrolment; however, uptake is sluggish among informal-sector workers who recall earlier deductions vanishing into bureaucracy. The National Health Insurance Authority (NHIA) expanded enrolment to over 15 million Nigerians in 2024; however, out-of-pocket health expenditure still accounts for more than 70% of total healthcare costs.

In education, initiatives like the Safe Schools Programme have secured some learning environments, but basic literacy remains alarmingly low, especially in the Northeast, where only 27% of children aged 6–11 attend school regularly. While state-level reforms in places like Ebonyi and Enugu have delivered model schools and digital classrooms, the national picture remains one of inequality and underfunding. Two years is too short to erase decades of neglect, but it is long enough to show whether reform is sprinting or simply strolling. The good news is that the Minister of Education, Dr. Morufu Olatunji Alausa, and the Minister of Health, Dr. Muhammad Ali Pate, have demonstrated creativity and leadership in turning around these sectors in Nigeria.

 

Social cohesion, always fragile, continues to teeter on the edge. Ethnic tension flared during the 2023 off-cycle elections in Kogi and Bayelsa while hate speech and disinformation proliferated across social media platforms. However, shared national moments—such as the Super Falcons’ exploits at the 2023 FIFA Women’s World Cup and global acclaim for Nigerian creatives—continue to offer flickers of unity. The federal character principle remains contentious as calls grow louder for restructuring and a rotational presidency. Unity cannot be decreed; it is cultivated by fairness perceived, and fairness experienced.

As for the democracy dividend, surveys by NOI Polls show that while 57% of Nigerians still believe in democracy as the best form of government, only 21% say it is delivering real economic improvement. Voters who queued in the sun in 2023 were not asking for utopia; they were asking for water that runs, roads that last, jobs that pay, and leaders who listen. If those basics remain aspirations in 2025, then democracy’s moral account is deeply overdrawn.

 

Politics loves horizons; governance must love the now. Every glowing statistic deployed at a press conference will be interrogated by the aroma in a market woman’s pot and the hum—or hush—of a factory line. The following 730 days, before the ballot, are not for campaign rehearsal but for rigorous implementation and a shrinking window to make today visibly better than yesterday. Genuine wins deserve applause. Glaring gaps demand humility. What matters now is the quiet grind of delivery—measurable, consistent, and ruthless in execution. Only then will talk of 2027 feel like anticipation and not escapism — another escape from the realities of 2025. The issues raised here will define 2027.

Former President Olusegun Obasanjo was in his farmhouse address in Otta, Ogun State during the last weekend of January 2002. It was supposed to be a short get-away from work in Abuja where he was routinely out of bed before 6am and rarely retired before 2am the next morning. But work followed him to Otta, salient files from his Abuja office shipped over. Some of his senior aides and public officers also stopped by. From Otta, he was scheduled to undertake a two-day official visit to Katsina State. It was part of his countrywide tours, appraising the permeation of tangible dividends of democracy to Nigerians at all levels. I was on Obasanjo’s staff and had proceeded from Abuja on the advance team to tidy up preparations and to receive him. Sunday January 27, 2002, the evening before his scheduled departure from Otta en route Lagos to Katsina, however, unprecedented, massive explosions occurred in Lagos. The air was thick with uncertainty. Where could this earth-quaking “bombings” have taken place? Was it precedent to a coup to topple the nascent Obasanjo government?

The security ring around the President decided to be proactive. With the pervading confusion, the wisest probable thing to do was to move the President to safety, just in case it was a putsch. Should he be flown back to Abuja through Lagos? Should he drive to neighbouring Benin Republic as guest of his Beninoise counterpart? The genetically strong-willed Obasanjo would rather await security briefing. He wasn’t going anywhere, he said. Reports came in to the effect that the mishap occurred at the Abalti Barracks, Ikeja Cantonment, in Lagos. It occurred at the armoury of the military facility, where high calibre explosives were improperly stored. The tragedy claimed well over 1000 casualties, military and civilian. It displaced over 20,000, as it spread rapidly to adjoining districts and communities. Obasanjo had to be persuaded by his personal physician to get some sleep because of his loaded schedule ahead the following day. He stayed up, eyes wide open late into the night.

Obasanjo began his day on Monday January 28, 2002, at the Ikeja Cantonment. He toured the site of the occurrence and the adjoining areas which were flattened by the detonations and held a meeting with the military commanders. He considered rescheduling the Katsina trip in sympathy with the casualties. He was reminded by his protocol officials, however, that the Katsina visited had earlier been scheduled and cancelled because of the unavailability of the Governor of the state at the time, Umaru Musa Yar’Adua. Yar’Adua who succeeded Obasanjo in 2007, was abroad for a long spell, on cogent medical grounds. Before a sullen-faced Obasanjo addressed his hosts in Katsina when he eventually arrived, he called for two minutes of silence in memory of those that died in the Ikeja incident, and to empathise with the injured and displaced.

Ehigie Edobor Uzamere who represented Edo South Senatorial District in the seventh and eighth national assemblies, is 70 today. An elaborate event has been laid out to commemorate the landmark in Benin City, the Edo State capital. Former Vice President, Atiku Abubakar, GCON, is one of the very high profile dignitaries who was expected to grace the high profile programme. Reports indicate that members of Atiku’s entourage received reminders last night, detailing his itinerary. Earlier today, however, the Office of the Former Vice President put out the following statement:

 

Cancellation of Benin Trip Due to Recent National Tragedies:

I write to inform you that His Excellency Atiku Abubakar, GCON, Waziri Adamawa, Vice President of Nigeria, (1999-2007), has reflected on the twin national tragedies in Niger and Kano States, where flooding and road traffic accidents have respectively claimed the lives of several Nigerians. In the light of this, he has decided to CANCEL his planned trip to Benin City, Edo State, this afternoon, June 1, 2025. This is to enable him mourn and pay his respects to the victims and their families.

The statement was signed by Yahaya Ibrahim Zango, Principal Private Secretary to the former Vice President.

 

It is important to provide this background as counterpoint to the momentary retirement of President Bola Tinubu to Lagos for some official engagements, and the observance of the forthcoming Eid-el-Kabir festival. Tinubu left Abuja on Tuesday May 27, 2025, to attend a string of programmes. According to the press statement which announced his movements, he will remain in Nigeria’s old capital city until the conclusion of the ileya event on Monday June 9, 2025. To this extent, he will be away from Abuja for two weeks. Thus far, the President has attended ceremonies commemorating the 50th anniversary of the setting up of the Economic Community of West African States, (ECOWAS). He is equally commissioning and inspecting projects completed or initiated by his administration, to mark the second year anniversary of his presidency.

Before Tinubu’s departure from Abuja, he had been duly briefed about recent heightened attacks and incursions into parts of the North East, especially Borno State, which has been troubled by insurgents, for several years. He was acquainted about renewed, genocidal-scale killings in parts of the North Central, especially Benue and Plateau states. Bandits and miscreants have equally recently unsettled the peace and quiet of the Yoruba-speaking section of Kogi State, Okunland, across its six local government areas. Flooding in Niger State, also in the Middle Belt region, has claimed over 100 lives and disconnected parts of Nigeria’s North and South West, by the collapse of the all-important North-South bridge in Mokwa, in Niger State. Just yesterday, 22 members of the Kano State contingent to the recently concluded National Sports Festival in Ogun State, were consumed in an automobile mishap. The President’s prototype message of commiseration, and his directives to relevant departments of government to step in and provide succour in these various instances, is in the public space.

While spontaneous press releases and phone calls have their places in state administration, nothing compensates for that essential human touch, that conscientious empathy, in circumstances and periods of grave nationwide anguish such as we are in. The nation’s streets are lacquered by the blood of innocents, across our luminous geographical perimeters. The belly of the earth chokes and suffers reflux beneath the tonnages of unceasing and ill-timed cadavers it daily receives. Death, to borrow from the evergreen lyrics of the revered, veteran Yoruba music artist, Ebenezer Obey, has become “two for half a penny. Communities are displaced by the intolerable activities of rampagers and marauders, echoing memories of the 30-month bitter civil war which our country survived between 1967 and 1970. The living and medical conditions of internally displaced persons, (IDPs) in Benue State for example, are better not discussed. Yet, one generation of Nigerian toddlers bred and raised in those hovels, have never glimpsed another home, another community.

Times like this call for true, sincere leadership. Times like this demand way beyond the commandist outsourcing of responsibilities to scheduled appointees. They demand beyond monarchy-style overlordship as Nigerians perceive their leaders. They call for proactive and compassionate leadership. The Nigerian President is easily one of the most pampered across the world. He possesses every equipment and facility to enable his locomotion around the country, even the world, by the snap of his fingers. In a season such as this when gloom and despair pervade the nation, Tinubu should intentionally extricate himself from fawning aides and grovelling courtiers and demonstrate physical identification and genuine concern and humanity for his beleaguered constituents.

 

Very clearly, the campaign for the 2027 presidential election has been flagged off. President Tinubu is receiving endorsements and adoptions in places. His morale about the continuation of his job beyond his subsisting mandate which ends on May 29, 2027, is high. Tinubu, however, has pressing, present obligations to Nigerians, well ahead of 2027. The way he redeems these commitments by way of good governance of some sort, will largely determine the direction the hand of the clock ticks, come 2027. Except if the polls have been predetermined as has notoriously become the vogue with Naija-style democracy and electoral system.

Olusunle, PhD, Fellow of the Association of Nigerian Authors (FANA), is an adjunct professor of creative writing at the University of Abuja.

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.

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