Opinion
Obi Cubana and the Oba Burial | By Reuben Abati
The sociology of death and funerals is an important aspect of the African cosmogony. Parents pray that their children should outlive them in order to give them a befitting burial. They liken this to the same manner when fire dies out in the hearth, it is replaced by ashes, and when a banana tree withers, a sapling sprouts in its place. When Africans die, it is believed that they have merely travelled to another realm, and become ancestors, and hence, a funeral ceremony is a send-forth event. The death of a young person however, is considered a tragedy. This is why such obituaries are prefaced with the solemn declaration that “The wicked have done their worst”, “We love you but the Lord loves you more” or “A Painful Exit.” The tone of the elegy at a funeral is thus a function of the circumstances of the death, or the religious inclination of the family as in “With Total Submission to the Will of God…”, “Inna Lillahi wa inna Ilayhi Raji’un”. Age is indeed a factor. If the dead lived up to an old, ripe age, you are likely to see such announcements as “A Glorious Exit”, “With Gratitude for a Life Well Spent” or “Ä Celebration of Life”.
Among the Yoruba of the South West, the death of an old man or woman is described as “oku eba”, that is – a transition that is worth celebrating, with generous dollops of cassava paste. Other groups in the country also have varying patterns of burying their dead. Among Muslims generally, the burial of the dead is carried out swiftly in line with Islamic injunctions. The simplicity of Muslim burials, the solemnity and dignity of it, is incomparable to anything else I have seen, even if Muslims in the South West of Nigeria, still find an excuse to throw lavish parties that have more to do with the culture of the people, rather than the religion. One dictionary describes the Yoruba as the “fun-loving people of the South West Nigeria.” But in general, the manner of burials, the scope of the rites, the scale and tone, is a reflection of cultural norms and dominant values, at both community and individual levels across Nigeria. What is noteworthy is how the loss of a beloved family member could suddenly end up as a celebration, and the explanation for that is as complicated and diverse as the Nigerian society itself.
In this regard, something happened last week, in Oba, Anambra State, Nigeria: the funeral of the mother of a man popularly known as Obi Cubana, which would seem to be a metaphor for the collapse of values in Nigeria generally, the effect of poverty – spiritual, mental and physical – and how that pushes the people to desperate ends. The burial of Cubana’s mum may be seen as a form of celebration, she died at 75, but it was a lavish send-forth that was terribly obscene. The town of Oba has certainly never witnessed anything like that. Not even in the entire Anambra state has anyone organised anything so loud and extravagant. This was not a celebration of life. It was a celebration of Money. Obi Cubana’s mother died in November 2020. It took him more than seven months to plan the burial and when he decided that it was time for the dead to be sent forth, his obvious intention was to organise the mother of all burials, such that even the living would envy the dead and wish to die. The only problem is that not many Nigerians would rather die knowing that it is not every one that would ever get that kind of burial. Oba is ordinarily a quiet town of nine villages, located between the commercial town of Onitsha and the industrial town of Nnewi. During the civil war, it was the last frontier of the Biafran Army. But that community will now be remembered for a long time, for the burial of the mother of a certain Obi Cubana. The role played by the social media, and by Cubana’s friends is remarkable: how a country lost its moral centre and has produced a generation of new Nigerians who worship money, ego, kudi. The excitement generated among young Nigerians who could not make it to Oba but who followed the event on social media and became excited, is a measure of the extent of the crisis that Nigeria faces.
By Friday, the spectacle had begun to unfold. Social media managers of the burial who apparently had been engaged to do so – they are called influencers – told us and showed pictures, about the Obi Cubana Festival of Money. The first of the videos that I saw was that of a young man throwing Naira notes around, on the streets as if he was distributing candies to children. The notes were in packs, crisp new notes, and as each bundle was thrown at the crowd, people fell over themselves and rushed to pick up pieces. This was like a John the Baptist display. Many of Cubana’s friends and guests would soon arrive, and before they did, many of them posted on Instagram, the stacks of money they were going to spend. Cartons of Naira notes. In one post, a group of women were shown swimming in a pool, others were hanging around, scantily dressed, all looking like they had adjusted their biological features. That is now standard practice among a category of Nigerian women. They do a breast job, acquire a surgical, traffic-stopping butt, and they all look alike, fully bleached to their knuckles, with fake hair, strange eyelashes that protrude like pins, and of course foreign accents that have a combination of every dialect from Wales to mid-West America.
The boys by the pool threw money into the water and the girls scrambled to grab their share of the offering. This was the pattern throughout the burial. Naira notes, sorry bundles of Naira, were thrown about, sprayed, pasted so recklessly you would think this was a future Olympics Game, in which the athletes were preparing for a Gold Medal. Obi Cubana himself was at the centre of it all. One lady, simply identified as Livy was shown in one video throwing so many bales of money at Cubana that he exclaimed that he would need a Chest X-Ray! The way money was being thrown like pieces of cement blocks, I also thought that an ambulance should have been on standby. “Killed by money at Cubana’s mother’s burial” would have been an appropriate headline in the circumstance. The public was later informed that Obi Cubana got about 300 million Naira as contributions by his friends to bury his mother. He also received over 100 rams, and 400 cows, 46 out of that was supplied by one guy called Cubana Priest who not only announced the donation but also said that was just a tip of the iceberg.
Cubana himself did not disappoint. He wore a diamond pendant that was valued at N50 million. His mother’s casket, specially imported from wherever was said to have been about N40 million. This celebration of money was so unbelievable, the burial became a matter for social media punditry and the creation of emojis. Some people said it was certain Obi Cubana’s mother was already in Heaven as a saint, sitting on the right-hand side of the Almighty. Nobody has been to Heaven to confirm that, so we have no proof. Others said with the volume of money spent at the funeral, the Nigerian government should henceforth approach Obi Cubana for a loan and stop disturbing China, IMF and the World Bank. Other observers were worried about the source of the money that was being thrown around like confetti. Nigerian banks would also readily tell you that they don’t have new notes. They give out dirty notes to their customers. But there were more crisp, mint notes in circulation at Oba over the weekend than in the entire Nigerian banking system. And the notes were abused.
The Central Bank Act of Nigeria – Sections 5, 21 (4-5) prescribe penalties for the abuse of the country ‘s national currency. The law forbids the sale, purchase, and the plunking of the Naira, and prescribes penalties: six months imprisonment or a fine of N50, 000 or both. The penalties are so light, I don’t think they mean anything to Cubana and his friends or their likes. And why should that bother them anyway when the Oba funeral was attended by the same law enforcement officers who should know that it is an offence to abuse the Naira (truth is: policemen joined others to collect the notes that dropped on the floor), and there were lawmakers and prominent politicians in attendance too. In fact, nobody should be surprised if Cubana ends up as a Governor or Senator tomorrow. He has effectively used his mother’s burial to prove a point: that he has cash and the courage to spend it. Nigerians worship money. And that was why throughout the weekend: the popular saying was: who no dey Oba, na wahala him get? Women were turned into objects and debased. Whoever had not seen his girlfriend or wife was advised to go to Oba in Anambra State. And there was a particular video of one lady who collected up to three big bags of money, by just picking money from the floor like a mendicant! Nollywood stars fell over themselves to be seen and heard. One respected actor even got so carried away he began to act like an Area Boy on Instagram. I won’t mention his name because he is a man I like very much. Money is a Devil in Nigeria. It turns even the most enlightened into clowns.
At Obi Cubana’s mother’s burial, so-called celebrities, some of these characters who describe themselves as brands (whatever that means!) became ushers, bodyguards, “all-right-sirs” and videographers. Obi Cubana has every right to bury his mother the way he wants. But who is he? How did he make his money? How much tax does he pay to the Nigerian government? The Oba burial is over now, but the only thing anybody will remember is the Bacchanal orgy of money. I am not sure half of the people at the event even know who Cubana’s mother was. What kind of person was she? How did she relate within the community? Did she even ever see, handle, spend, a bundle of crisp Naira notes in her lifetime? Who are Obi Cubana’s family members? Does he even have siblings or extended family members? They were all blanked out! Members of the Oba community were advertised as crumb eaters. They struggled to grab the Naira notes that were thrown into the air. They stared at the money-miss-road invaders from a distance. When it was all over and the waka-come-Cubana crowd left, they struggled over the left-over crumbs of cow-meat barbecue. They were effectively reminded of their poverty.
Obi Cubana would probably not visit that community again until he needs to organise another show-off. Would it not have been better if he built a hospital in his mother’s memory? Or a school? Or a church? And then the people will remember her, and not how her son and his friends put money to shame at her funeral. And who are these friends? The kind of names that have been mentioned sound unfamiliar to me: E-Money, Internet Money, Pablo Cubana, Escoba, Jowizaza, Livy, Cubana Priest. Is the Nigerian Immigration Service, in charge of aliens and expatriates, the Nigerian Identity Management Commission (NIMC) in charge of National Identity Registration and the Ministry of Internal Affairs, in charge of Homeland Security, aware of the presence of these people inside Nigeria? Who are they? And why do they spend money like that? Not even Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos, Bill Gates, or Warren Buffet will throw money around like that!
The burial of Otunba Mike Adenuga’s mother in 2005 has been compared to that of Cubana’s mother’s burial, and certainly Otunba Adenuga should feel maligned. It is an unintelligent comparison. The point that has been made is that when Adenuga was burying his mother he donated a cow to every street in Ijebu-Igbo, his home town. Yeah. But there were no drunkards throwing bales of money on the streets or cleavage-bearing women, bleached from head to toe, with artificial physiognomy and a mass of excessive protoplasm, promenading here and there, with shameless, bedmatic display. Last weekend, we saw a new definition of womanhood in Oba.
My point is about taste, class and values, not melodrama, or the right of persons to live as they wish. And here, I also draw attention to the burial about the same time of the mother of the former Managing Director of Access Bank, Aigboje Aig-Imoukhuede, which took place in Lagos at the Tafawa Balewa Square. The contrast is striking but I bring it up because it also says something about Nigeria: the emergence of two polarized publics, both of seemingly strong weight and whose difference lies is the inherited future of our children because of the way Nigerian leaders have failed the people. The burial of Apostle Mrs Aig Imoukhuede was a dignified, classy event attended by the Nigerian establishment from politics to business and civil society. It was the celebration of a woman who achieved distinction in her own right and whose accomplishments in that regard were properly show-cased. The funeral was not about her first son, the banker, investor, philanthropist, friend of every important figure. It was, most appropriately, a celebration of her life. Nobody had any need to throw money around. Even if Mrs Imoukhuede was a trader at Oyingbo market, there would have been no need to turn her funeral into a festival of money. And yet the richest and most influential Nigerians with the strongest pedigree were there. One weekend, two burials, different tales! I leave it to you to stretch the comparison. I have made my point: Nigeria is in trouble. Young Nigerians, products of a failed leadership, worship money and fakery. The gentrified class train their children in the best schools abroad, but those same children will return to a country that would have been taken over by the Oba crowd who are sadly, the future of Nigeria. Obi Cubana, and Aig Imoukhuede, our commiserations.
As the road to 2027 gradually unfolds across Oyo State, political conversations are shifting from routine permutations to deeper questions about competence, generational leadership, and measurable impact. In Ibarapa East, that conversation has found a new voice in Yusuf Abiodun Ramon — a Lanlate-born technocrat whose entry into the race for the State House of Assembly is redefining what representation could mean for the constituency.
In a political environment often dominated by familiar faces and conventional calculations, Ramon presents a profile shaped by technical discipline, structured thinking, and solution-driven engagement. His professional background, anchored in analytical precision and systems management, forms the foundation of his public service aspiration.
For him, representation must move beyond ceremonial presence to practical responsiveness — laws that reflect local realities, oversight that protects public resources, and advocacy that translates into visible development.
Ramon argues that the future of Ibarapa East lies in leadership that listens deliberately, plans strategically, and delivers measurably. He speaks of strengthening rural infrastructure, expanding youth-driven economic opportunities, and institutionalising transparency as core pillars of his agenda. In his view, governance must not merely be symbolic; it must be structured, accountable, and people-centred.
Rooted in Ile Odede, Isale Alubata Compound, Ward Seven of Ibarapa East Local Government, and maternally linked to Ile Sobaloju, Isale Ajidun Compound, Eruwa, Ramon’s story is not one of distant ambition but of lived experience. He is, in every sense, a son of the soil — shaped by the same roads, schools, and economic realities that define daily life in Ibarapa East.
“I was born here. I grew up here. I understand our struggles, our strengths, and our untapped potential,” he says. “Representation must go beyond occupying a seat; it must translate into preparation, competence, and genuine commitment to development.”
His academic journey mirrors that philosophy of steady growth. He began at Islamic Primary School, Lanlate (1995–2001), proceeded to Baptist Grammar School, Orita Eruwa (2001–2007), and later earned a National Diploma in Mechanical Engineering Technology from Federal Polytechnic, Ilaro, between 2009 and 2011. Refusing to plateau, he advanced his intellectual horizon and is now completing a Bachelor of Science in Business Administration at the University of Lagos. “Education,” he reflects, “is continuous capacity building. Leadership today requires both technical knowledge and administrative insight.”
That blend of engineering precision and managerial training has defined a professional career spanning more than a decade. Shortly after his diploma, Yusuf joined Mikano International Limited as a generator installer, gaining hands-on experience in industrial power systems — a sector central to Nigeria’s infrastructural backbone. He later transitioned into telecommunications at Safari Telecoms Nigeria Limited, where he received specialized training in Industrial, Scientific, and Medical radio bands, strengthening his expertise in network operations.
In 2013, he became a Field Support Engineer at Netrux Global Concepts Ltd., then a leading ISM service provider in Nigeria. Over four formative years, he immersed himself in telecom infrastructure deployment and maintenance, mastering field coordination, logistics management, and real-time technical problem-solving.
Since July 2017, he has served as a Field Support Engineer with Specific Tools and Techniques Ltd., a power solutions firm providing services to major operators including MTN Nigeria and Airtel Nigeria. In that capacity, he operates at the frontline of ensuring energy reliability and network uptime — responsibilities that demand discipline, accountability, and systems thinking.
For political observers in Ibarapa East, this trajectory matters. It reflects more than résumé credentials; it speaks to a mindset anchored in efficiency, coordination, and measurable outcomes — qualities increasingly demanded in legislative representation.
Beyond the private sector, Ramon’s political exposure is neither sudden nor superficial. A loyal member of the progressive political family in Lagos, he once served as a personal assistant to a former lawmaker, gaining practical insight into legislative procedure and constituency engagement. Within his community, he has quietly extended financial support to small-scale entrepreneurs and students — modest but consistent interventions rooted in personal responsibility.
“My interest is my people,” he states firmly. “Ibarapa East deserves strategic, responsive, and capable leadership at the State Assembly. We must move from rhetoric to results.”
Across the constituency — from Lanlate to Eruwa — development priorities remain clear: youth employment, vocational empowerment, rural road rehabilitation, stable power supply, agricultural value-chain expansion, improved educational standards, and stronger lawmaking that directly reflects community needs.
Political analysts argue that Ramon’s technocratic background positions him uniquely at the intersection of policy formulation and practical implementation. At a time when national discourse increasingly favours competence over grandstanding, his profile resonates with a broader generational shift toward performance-driven governance. His engineering discipline reinforces problem-solving; his business training strengthens administrative understanding; his grassroots roots anchor his empathy.
For Ibarapa East, the 2027 election cycle may represent more than a routine democratic exercise. It may mark a recalibration of expectations — a demand for representation that understands both the soil beneath its feet and the systems that drive modern development. As political alignments gradually crystallize in Oyo State, Yusuf Abiodun Ramon’s declaration signals the arrival of a candidate seeking to translate private-sector structure into public-sector impact.
One thing is clear: the conversation about the future of Ibarapa East has begun — and it is now framed around competence, credibility, and capacity.
Oluwasegun Idowu sent in this piece from Eruwa, Ibarapa East LG, Oyo State
“In a sky where delays are normal, one airline flies with precision and trust. Ibom Air shows that reliability can be a strategy”.
In Nigeria’s skies, where flight delays and cancellations are often taken as routine, Ibom Air has quietly rewritten the rules. From the moment it launched in June 2019, the Akwa Ibom State–owned carrier has treated reliability not as a bonus, but as a core strategy—turning punctuality, discipline, and operational excellence into a competitive edge that passengers can count on.
While most airlines chase rapid expansion or flashy promotions, Ibom Air has chosen consistency. Flights depart on schedule, disruptions are minimal, and communication with passengers is clear and timely. This predictability has quickly earned the airline a loyal following among business travellers, professionals, government officials, and families for whom time is invaluable.
The airline’s approach is methodical. Every flight is treated as a commitment, and operational decisions are guided by structured planning, not improvisation. This discipline underpins everything from scheduling to fleet management, ensuring passengers experience flying without surprises.
Central to this model is Ibom Air’s modern fleet. Its Airbus A220-300 and Bombardier CRJ-900 aircraft are fuel-efficient, comfortable, and rigorously maintained to meet both manufacturers’ specifications and the regulatory standards of the Nigerian Civil Aviation Authority and international aviation bodies. Safety here is a culture, not a compliance exercise.
Cabin cleanliness and aircraft health are equally prioritized. Passengers consistently step into neat, hygienic, and professionally maintained cabins, reinforcing confidence and comfort even before take-off. In a sector where small details signal operational quality, Ibom Air’s standards speak volumes.
Technology quietly drives reliability across operations. From booking and check-in to flight coordination and customer service, modern systems enhance efficiency, reduce disruptions, and ensure smooth communication. These tools allow the airline to anticipate challenges rather than merely react.
R–L: Dr. Solomon Oroge, a consultant, and Mr. Idowu Ayodele, journalist and media practitioner, aboard an Ibom Air flight.
Service delivery follows the same disciplined pattern. Pilots, cabin crew, engineers, and ground staff operate under strict professional standards. Courtesy is paired with efficiency, and calm, structured service ensures passengers feel confident throughout their journey.
The Ibom Flyer loyalty programme reflects this structured approach, rewarding consistent passengers and fostering long-term engagement. It turns reliability into a tangible benefit for frequent flyers.
From its hub at Victor Attah International Airport, Uyo, Ibom Air serves major Nigerian cities including Lagos, Abuja, Port Harcourt, Calabar, and Enugu, while extending its reach to West Africa with flights to Accra, Ghana. Expansion is deliberate, prioritizing sustainability over rapid growth that could compromise service quality.
Measured growth allows the airline to maintain operational excellence and service consistency even as demand increases—a strategy that contrasts sharply with competitors whose rapid expansion often strains resources.
Mr. Idowu Ayodele, journalist and media practitioner, pictured inside an Ibom Air aircraft.
Beyond commercial success, Ibom Air has become a national example. It has created employment, stimulated tourism, and strengthened regional connectivity, projecting a positive image of Nigerian aviation at a time when confidence in the sector is often fragile.
The airline has also challenged assumptions about government-owned enterprises. By combining professional management with operational autonomy, it demonstrates that public investment can achieve efficiency, accountability, and competitiveness.
Reliability, in the case of Ibom Air, is than a promise—it is a deliberate business philosophy. It shapes operations, informs decisions, and builds passenger trust consistently.
Technology, discipline, and attention to detail converge to produce an airline that works. Every element, from fleet maintenance to cabin service, supports the promise that Ibom Air delivers what it advertises—without surprises.
In a market where uncertainty has been the norm, Ibom Air has shown that consistency can be a strategic advantage. Passengers no longer fly with anxiety; they fly with confidence, knowing their schedules will hold and service will meet expectations.
Ultimately, Ibom Air is not just an airline—it is a model of operational excellence in Nigerian aviation. By prioritizing reliability over spectacle, discipline over improvisation, and planning over shortcuts, it sets a benchmark for the industry and a standard for passengers: in the skies, predictability is priceless
Idowu Ayodele – Journalist, Ibadan, Oyo State
0805 889 3736 | megaiconpress@gmail.com
In Homer’s epic poem The Odyssey, the concept of the “Greek gift” was invented. The Trojan Horse became the undoing of Troy, ending a decade-long war in which many Greeks had perished, including the mighty Achilles. The Trojans accepted the Greeks’ gift, and the rest, as they say, is history.
In the past few days, both social and conventional media have been agog with reactions to President Donald J. Trump’s threat to the Nigerian government regarding terrorism. In his words, Nigeria must “address the genocide against Christians in the North and Middle Belt, or else the U.S. will cut aid to the country and, in addition, come into the country guns blazing in an attempt to flush out the terrorists.”
Sincerely speaking, the tweet made by the U.S. President sounded a bit comical to me, as did many other commentaries that followed. Comical not in a ridiculous sense, but in a comedic sense.
This piece is not written to support or oppose any particular view, but to lay down facts in the most succinct and objective manner, thereby allowing for the independence of a balanced position.
In 2009, a terror group named Jama’at Ahl al-Sunna li al-Da’wa wa al-Jihad (popularly referred to as Boko Haram) emerged with the aim of establishing Islamic rule across Nigeria. According to the group, Sharia was the only path to true progress, and any faith other than Islam was haram (forbidden).
Soon after, this group began launching vicious attacks against Christians and Christian places of worship. From singularly attacking Christians, their targets shifted to government institutions and facilities, and on 28 November 2014, one of the greatest attacks against fellow Muslims occurred with the bombing and mass shooting of Juma’at worshippers at the Kano Central Mosque. Over 120 worshippers were killed and another 260 critically injured.
The point here is to underscore the fact that Boko Haram—and indeed all other extremist groups in Nigeria—are not targeting Christians alone, as earlier claimed, but are pursuing a more sinister agenda of land grabbing with the colouration of economic, psychological and socio-political domination of conquered territories, with intentions of spreading across the country.
From the Northeast, the activities of wanton killing and destruction perpetrated by terrorists spread to the North Central region, particularly Plateau and Benue States. What originally began as farmer–herder clashes metamorphosed into full-blown village and community sackings, where Fulani invaders razed entire communities, leaving hundreds dead or wounded while survivors were displaced and left with harrowing experiences in IDP camps.
This wave of destruction continued, with one of the bloodiest in recent times occurring in Yelwata, Guma Local Government Area of Benue State, on the night of 13–14 June 2025. According to Amnesty/CE/UN/NGO, over 200 people were gruesomely massacred, several houses burnt to ashes, and about 3,000 people displaced and rendered homeless. In 2025 alone, Amnesty reported more than 10,000 additional people displaced in Benue across several local governments, ranging from Gwer West to Agatu, Ukum/Gbagir, Logo, Kwande and Guma.
From the North Central, terrorism—or better still, banditry—also found its way to the North West. The activities of bandits, kidnappers and other criminal elements were consistently reported in Zamfara, Kaduna, Kebbi, Sokoto, Kano, and even Katsina, which was once regarded as the true home of hospitality, as its state slogan depicts, and as I can also attest considering how much I enjoyed the peace and serenity of the state during my days therein as a Youth Corps member. Reuters.ng reports that as of 2025, approximately 2,456 people had been killed in the North West region across multiple states. In addition to this, about 7,260 people, including schoolchildren and commuters on highways, had been abducted, with several millions of naira collected by kidnappers as ransom payments. Some parts of the South West, South East and South South have not been spared the atrocities of terrorists and bandits.
Therefore, it is safe to say that the entire country has, at one time or the other, experienced the activities of bandits, terrorists and kidnappers. The intensity of attack, however, differs from region to region.
Late General Sani Abacha once said that “if any insurgency lasts for more than 24 hours, a government official has a hand in it.” This saying more or less amplifies the complexity of the terrorism–banditry–kidnapping problem in Nigeria. Nigeria is a country abundantly blessed with all manners of rich mineral resources. Apart from the vast arable land required for productive agriculture, there is virtually no region of the country that does not possess one valuable solid mineral or another.
From iron ore in Zamfara, Kogi and Enugu; gold in Kaduna, Kebbi and Osun; lithium in Nasarawa, Kwara, Oyo and the FCT; bitumen in Ondo, Edo and Ogun; plus other industrial minerals like gypsum, kaolin and limestone, with deposits of over one billion tonnes across many states—Nigeria is sitting on an incredibly underutilised treasure worth billions of dollars. The government’s inability to adequately manage these vast potentials provides fertile grounds for opportunistic scrambling, illegal mining, chaos and its attendant conflicts.
One can therefore boldly say that the chaos and violence camouflaged as terrorism and banditry is indeed a calculated campaign driven not just by Islamic extremism but by land grabbing and occupation for the purpose of blood mineral extraction and illicit mining.
Thus, a sophisticatedly armed radical Islamic Fulani ethnic militia, often operating under political protection, carries out multiple killings, displacements and kidnappings across the Northeast, North Central and North West, after which reports reveal that foreign miners appear following the death and displacement of indigenes to exploit the lands.
Amnesty International has also reported that Nigeria loses over $9 billion annually to illicit mining of gold, tin and lithium, with a significant portion—estimated at 10%—funding violence and corruption. The report further revealed that the involvement of some government elements in this corruption is not in doubt, as eyewitness reports of survivors and satellite surveillance footage revealed the connivance of certain government personnel. Some survivors have also repeatedly claimed that they witnessed helicopters in the middle of the night dropping weapons and ammunition for the bandits—a disclosure corroborated by Professor Bolaji Akinyemi in an interview on African Stream earlier this year.
So, it is right to say that the violence and carnage are just a smokescreen and a catalyst to a far-reaching economic, psychological and socio-political agenda of certain influential elements in the country. This is part of the reason why the billions of naira spent on security to equip the military to better fight insurgency have not yielded much result to date.
In addressing the threat of President Donald Trump, I would like to start by recounting a little history about the 47th President of the United States and his previous antecedents. In January 2018, at a news conference in the White House, President Trump referred to Haiti and some African countries—including Nigeria—as “shithole countries” that should not be accorded immigrant status in the U.S.
Furthermore, his government’s stern immigration policies and visa restrictions clearly reflect a hostile stance towards Africa and some other Global South countries. In light of this, it is hard to understand where the sudden genuine concern for Nigerian Christians is coming from—more so when a U.S. congressman earlier this year revealed that USAID played a significant role in the funding of Boko Haram and other terrorist groups. This concern was never mentioned when Late President Muhammadu Buhari visited the White House a few months after the “shithole” saga and was praised by the same Trump for his valiant efforts in fighting Boko Haram and ISWAP, despite staggering reports of attacks and killings in the Northeast and North Central during that period.
Under the erudite scholarship of Professor Kunle Ajayi, I learnt several years ago, in one of our Politics of Global Economic Relations lectures, that in world politics and global socio-economic relations, the overriding determinant of states’ decisions and actions is strategic interest. Altruism is hardly ever a factor.
Present realities of Nigeria’s economic relations are fast approaching self-sufficiency—particularly in the oil sector, where Nigeria was once a major importer of finished petroleum products from the U.S. The Dangote refinery, having begun domestic refining and production of petroleum products, is fast taking over a market once dominated by imports from the U.S. This shift, no doubt, is taking jobs away from American oil workers—no cheering news for the country’s oil conglomerates. Secondly, China has since replaced the United States as Nigeria’s foremost trading partner.
According to Nairametrics (2025), the value of trade between Nigeria and China between 2023–2025 totals approximately $50 billion compared to an estimated $30 billion with the U.S. This paradigm shift would certainly not be palatable to the U.S. or her president, who happens to be a dogged businessman that hates the word “no”. From this perspective, it is not difficult to see where President Trump is coming from.
Be that as it may, I think Nigeria needs to employ shrewd diplomacy in dealing with the U.S. under a president like Donald Trump. Regardless of international law and conventions, the U.S. has repeatedly proven itself willing to take unilateral military action against countries, defying the rule of law and popular global opinion. So those hinging on Nigeria’s sovereignty as a deterrent to the U.S. are not good students of history.
What is, however, more important in all of this is that global attention is once again drawn to the horrible atrocities of these criminal elements in Nigeria. The country cannot continue to behave as though it is normal headline news when people are slaughtered daily, and families and homes are torn apart.
I believe this is an opportunity for the government to rejig the entire security architecture of the country, with the needed political will, to once and for all end these killings. Strategic partnership with the United States in this regard is not a bad idea. With its extensive experience in counter-terrorism operations and access to sophisticated military technology and intelligence, the U.S. can assist in identifying and eradicating the major financiers and enablers of terrorism and banditry. It is not rocket science that when the financing of terrorists ends, terrorism ceases to exist.
However, this should be done only on the basis of shared interest, mutual respect, trust, and understanding reflective of a healthy and balanced foreign policy relationship. By prioritising constructive diplomacy, dialogue and partnership, Nigeria can work with the United States in a strategic alliance to restore peace, security and confidence across the nation. That is the way to go.
Olusegun Hassan, Ph.D
Public Policy Analyst and Social Commentator
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