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As Fubara presses the nuclear button

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If Nyesom Wike had read the character portrait of the Ijaw man as sketched by Dr. Percy Amoury Talbot, an early 20th-century British historian and colonial administrator, he would most probably have thought twice before settling for Simnalaya Fubara as his third-term placeholder.

Wike was a two-term governor of Rivers State and today, Minister of the Federal Capital Territory. In his highly authoritative 1926 book, Peoples of Southern Nigeria: a Sketch of their History, Ethnology, and Languages, with an Abstract of the 1921 Census, Talbot reserved an unflattering description for the no-nonsense Ijaw race. Hear him on page 333, “Up the various creeks and branches, the waters are infested by a wild piratical set who live almost entirely in their canoes, and who subsist by plundering traders while on their way to the markets, often adding murder to their other crimes.”

Talbot was, aside from his colonial brief, a British anthropologist and botanical collector. Born in 1877, he lived in the creeks for years to undertake his study and died in 1945. While in Nigeria, he was the Acting Resident of Benin Division in the 1920s. Aside from the frightening sketch of the Ijaw above, Talbot went on to say this of the race, “this strange people, (were) a survival from the dim past beyond the dawn of history, whose language and customs are distinct from those of their neighbours and without trace of any tradition of time before they were driven southwards into these regions of somber mangroves,” and in another context, said of them: “their (Ijaws) origin is wrapped in mystery. The people inhabit practically the whole Coast, some 250 miles in length, stretching between the Ibibio and Yoruba. The Niger Delta, therefore, is… occupied by this strange people.”

Many other scholars who studied this unique race couldn’t understand its abstruse origin and piratical ancestry. While a school of thought claimed that Ijaws had a Judo-Christian origin, another contended that their ancestors originated from Palestine. They base this argument on the assumed similarity between Ijaw’s initial name, Ijo, and one of the ancient cities in Palestine known as Ijon. In concluding on this similarity, the scholars drew a nexus between the cultural practices of the Ijaw which are noticeable, male circumcision, ritual laws, and abstinence from sex during menstruation, and Palestinians’ war-mongering and maniacal tendencies. They said that both races draw strength and resilience from their identical link with Zionism. This assumed connection is based on Palestine’s adherence to Mosaic laws, similar to those of the Ijaw people’s self-styled Creek freedom fighters. In the 1940s, amateur historiography also linked the Ijaws with the Benin, Ife, and Egypt and then to the mythological Oduduwa of the Yoruba peoples.

Ijaws were almost unconquerable to the British colonial government, especially the Western Ijaw, so much so that British officers hardly visited Ijaw clans. This was a result of the gruesome killing of the District Commissioner of Forcados in 1911 in the Ijaw communities of Benni and Adagbabiri. Even as late as 1926, there was a confession by British officers in Warri complaining about the ‘truculent Ijaws’ who they owned up they had not succeeded in conquering. Ijaw were also considered to be people of ‘bad manners’ by the colonial administrators because they refused to turn up at the coast to welcome visiting administrators.

In the nineteenth century, pirates gained the utmost notoriety by roaming the seas as sailors, attacking other ships, and stealing property from them. Thus, living true to Talbot’s character profiling, in an act similar to pirates’, Fubara, the governor of Rivers State, last Wednesday pressed the nuclear button. He did this by attacking the hallowed rendering of democratic ethos when he pulled down the state’s legislative chamber, the Assembly complex. Before this demolition, the complex, comprising about six buildings and a main chamber, constructed by the government of Dr Peter Odili, was an insignia of democracy. The Fubara government’s alibi for the demolition, as provided by the Commissioner for Information and Communications, Joseph Johnson, was that the complex had become unsafe for human habitation as a result of the explosion and fire that rocked it in October.

Since the pulling down of the complex, it is instructive that Wike hasn’t said a word. He must have been very proud of his political son who took after his father. Wike’s eight-year administration of Rivers was pockmarked by similar governmental intransigence. In April 2023, after losing his bid for the presidency, Wike ordered African Independent Television (AIT) out of its Port-Harcourt premises and demolished the sprawling building. His grouse was that the owner of AIT, Raymond Dokpesi, took sides with ex-Vice President Atiku Abubakar. In May this year, he also demolished the Bayelsa State Government’s (BASG) property which was located in Akasa Street, Old Government Residential Area in Port Harcourt.

Rivers State had been quaking since the disagreement between Wike and Fubara, his protégé, came into the public glare. It became so messy to the point that four lawmakers, led by factional Speaker, Ehie Ogerenye Edison, who swore loyalty to Fubara, sacked 27 other members, led by factional Speaker, Martin Amaewhule, who had earlier defected to the All Progressives Congress (APC). It has gone even messier, with several resignations from commissioners believed to have been nominated by Wike and the dual sittings by the two factions of state legislators.

The Fubara-ordered demolition of the House of Assembly was blood-curdling. Never had this democratic governance witnessed such massive propitiation of a collective monument to the god of personal political survival. This act reminds people of Qin Shi Huang, the founder of the Qin dynasty and the first emperor of a unified China. Also known by the sobriquet Qin Shihuangdi, he ordered the killing of Chinese scholars because he disagreed with their ideas. He was also renowned for ordering the burning of books he saw as critical to him. While he reigned, Qin ordered the construction of a great wall which was perceived as a prequel to the modern Great Wall of China, as well as an enormous mausoleum that had over 6,000 life-size terra-cotta soldier figures. He conscripted thousands of people who worked on the wall and eventually died in the process of building the Wall. He also ordered the killing of workers building the Chinese mausoleum for the preservation of the secrecy of the tomb. Whenever Qin captured foreign hostages, he ordered them castrated as a mark to delineate them as slaves. When the blood-curdling acts are considered, they seem like a higher version of the destruction of legislative memory than the demolition of the Rivers House of Assembly appears to be. This is so when you bear in mind that all the documents, memories, and codified acts of the Rivers legislature are today buried in ruins to keep Fubara in office and keep him at bay from the fangs and incisors of his Dracula nemesis, Wike.

In an earlier piece I did on the Wike-Fubara tango (Why was Wike admiring Adedibu’s bust? November 5, 2023), I sketched how Nigeria’s Fourth Republic had been replete with outgoing governors planting their puppets as successors and how this puppeteering had boomeranged colossally against them. It is only in Lagos and Bornu State (between Kashim Shettima and Babagana Umara Zulum are predecessor and successor) where a veneer of amity between godfather and godson is being maintained. In virtually all the states where this godfatherism is practiced, immediately the hands of these assumed puppets, in the words of a Yoruba aphorism, firmly clutch the handle of the sword, they get emboldened enough to stand up to their puppeteers and ask upsetting questions.

The last 23 years of godfather politics in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic have also been sustained by a clone of Niccolo Machiavelli’s political theory, which is in effect a theory of autocratic governance. Machiavelli, an Italian historian, and political philosopher, is notorious for his treatise on governance and statescraft through his 1532 book, The Prince. The book advocated cunningness and craftiness as weapons of political power and legitimized deceptive means as a ladder to climb to attain and retain power. Machiavelli taught that to attain and sustain political leadership, irrationality, and immorality are two major weapons to be deployed. Anything other than this for the ‘Prince’, says Machiavelli, is a catastrophe.

The Wike-Fubara episode however promises to brim with weeping, wailing, mourning, blood, and gnashing of the teeth. Since the advent of the Fourth Republic, Rivers has oscillated dangerously on the governorship curve, reflecting an uptick from the sublime to the outright deadly. Beginning with Odili, a medical doctor who is generally perceived to wear the visage of a gentleman, successful occupants of the governorship stool after him have mirrored the anti-feminist, patently patriarchal Yoruba saying that, rather than the woman perceived to be a witch being weaned of her witchcraft, she has kept giving birth to female children, who are potential witches as well. While Rotimi Amaechi appeared a deadly and no-nonsense politician, he was an apprentice when placed by the side of Wike, a pesky, authoritarian totalitarian who brooks no dissenting voice. Like all governors of Nigeria from 1999 who installed their puppets to prevent roaches in their cupboards from peering out for the world to see, Wike’s place-holding rulership of Rivers State, using his former Accountant General, Fubara has hit a deadly rock and violence is being deployed for its sustenance.

As said earlier, if Wike came to Fubara’s choice as the one to carry his piss-can simply on account of his pliable, gentlemanly demeanor, he must by now be reaping the fruits of his narrow-minded judgment. What Fubara lacks in not wearing a bellicose visage, he makes up for in his piratical meanness, a reincarnation of a sort of Qin. In Fubara is the first time the Ijaw are occupying the Brick House, apart from Alfred Papapreye Diete-Spiff, an Ijaw who was the first military governor of Rivers State after it was created from part of the old Eastern Region Eastern Region. Diete-Spiff held office from May 1967 to July 1975 in the military administration of General Yakubu Gowon.

Machiavelli’s Prince and the cruelty of the theory have since been occupying Rivers’ Bricks House. For the rulers of Machiavelli’s theory, the governor is a ruler and he must act contrary to truth, charity, and humanity. The religious exposition of meekness should have no place in his dictionary. To stay continually in power, so counsels Machiavelli, the ruler should act like a ‘man’ or ‘animal’. When you look at the demolition of the Rivers Assembly complex last week, you can judge by yourself who out of Machiavelli’s man or beast had the audacity and temerity to do so. This is because, for the Prince to rule, it is even not enough to act like an ordinary animal. Machiavelli recommends that he is to act like the beast, the fox, and the lion because he must imitate the ferocity of wild animals. There is nothing like the rule of law but anti-people acts in Machiavelli’s leadership conjuration.
Nevertheless, as dangerous and unexampled as the Fubara meanness in destroying the House of Assembly complex appears to be, Fubara deserves to vanquish Wike as a lesson to future gubernatorial godfathers that they can fool some people sometimes but cannot fool all the people all the time. The resignation galore from the Rivers State government by key commissioners in the cabinet has also revealed the palpable danger in and cruelty of gubernatorial godfathers. While Wike unabashedly told the world that he collected forms of expression of interest for all the state elected representatives, the resignations have confirmed the claim that he appointed the bulk of special advisers and commissioners in the Fubara government.

How Wike will wriggle out of this trap he entered into is a million-dollar question. Already, his fight against Fubara has been weaponized as an ethnic war against the marginalized goose that lays the golden egg of Nigeria’s oil hub, the Ijaw. If the age-long creek prowess of the Ijaw, their unanimity in construing the Wike fight as a war against the Ijaw people, will drill a huge hole in the barge of the fight. Arguably Nigeria’s fourth largest ethnic group who live in the coastal fringes, the Ijaw still maintain their pre-colonial kingdoms of Opobo, Kalabiri, Nembe, Brass, and Bonny which is now elongated to the creeks of Ondo State.

In the pre-colonial time, Ijaws said to have existed over 700 years ago, were reputed to have had early contacts with Europe and were by that very fact more prosperous than their hinterland neighbors. They were however marginalized in the states where they live. The exception is Bayelsa which is largely an Ijaw state. The activism of Ijaw youths who began their revolt against the Nigerian state in the 1990s showed their capacity to fight a war of any hue. This fight yielded fruits when President Umaru Yar’Adua granted them amnesty. The revolting youths had earlier formed pan-ethnic youth organizations like the Movement for the Survival of Ijaw Ethnic Nationality (MOSIEN), the Movement for Reparations to Ogbia (MORETO) and the Ijaw Youth Council (IJW). They also had the Egbesu Boys of Africa and FNDIC. It will be recalled that the Egbesu Boys gained public notoriety when a military onslaught was launched against them during the Kaiama Declaration. It was there that the perception of invincibility of its members grew, with tales of the inability of bullets to penetrate the warring boys, all thanks to the Egbesu deity, Ijaw’s god of war. Ijaws have frightful but notable sons like High Chief Government Ekpemupolo, Mujahid Asari Dokubo, president of IYC who established the Niger Delta People’s Volunteer Force, (NDPVF), and Government Oweizide Ekpemupolo, known more by his sobriquet Tompolo, ex-MEND militant commander and chief priest of Egbesu.

Unlike the choleric Wike who overtly advertises his anger, Fubara is calm, hiding his Ijaw ancestral prowess under the veneer of this calmness. He still projects his underdog stand in the fight while allowing Wike to bark out his bad temper and be seen by the whole world as an unpretentious totalitarian.

How long this fight will endure is difficult to determine. Despite Fubara’s mean demolition of the State Assembly Complex, the general mood is tilted against Wike. Many are glad that he has finally met his comeuppance and the arrogant quills of his turtle dove have been lowered. Where the presidency’s sympathy lies in this whole fight, especially the political implication of government making enmity of the Ijaw, is also unclear. What is however clear is that, like the Yoruba say of one who has met their equal, the pigmy Wike has elected to buy his corn meal kept in a raffia palm-made basket that is far higher than him, where his hands and eyes could not select for him.

 

 

Dr. Festus Adedayo writes from Ibadan, Oyo state.

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Beyond Deportations: What South Africa’s Immigration Crisis Reveals About Nationhood and Economic Frustration

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The popular saying that “one good turn deserves another” appears increasingly absent from present-day South Africa’s national consciousness. It is difficult not to ask whether many South Africans have forgotten the history of their country’s liberation and the immense sacrifices made by Nigeria and other African nations in the long struggle against apartheid.

For days, I have been deeply troubled by reports of South Africa’s worsening immigration crisis and the forceful, vigilante-style eviction of African migrants, particularly Nigerians. Beyond the headlines are broken families, shattered dreams and livelihoods painstakingly built over many years. It is a painful development that should concern every African who once believed in the ideals of continental solidarity.

Anti-immigrant sentiments in South Africa are not new. For more than two decades, campaigns against foreign nationals have been fuelled by high unemployment, widespread poverty, rising crime and frustration over inadequate public services. Many South Africans believe undocumented immigrants compete with them for jobs, housing, healthcare and social services, thereby denying citizens access to these basic necessities.

Yet, available evidence tells a more complex story. Research has consistently shown that immigrants alone cannot be blamed for South Africa’s economic and social challenges. Reducing such deep-rooted problems to the presence of foreign nationals oversimplifies a crisis that has been decades in the making.

What is often overlooked is the country’s structural economic reality. A significant skills mismatch, coupled with weaknesses in the quality of education, has left many job seekers ill-equipped for the demands of an economy increasingly driven by technology, innovation and specialised skills. This challenge is not peculiar to South Africa. Across much of sub-Saharan Africa, thousands of graduates enter the labour market every year without the technical, vocational and digital competencies employers now demand.

Beyond this, crime, insecurity, systemic corruption and poor governance continue to weigh heavily on South Africa’s economy. The country has one of the highest youth unemployment rates in the world. Persistent violent crime discourages investment, while corruption and the mismanagement of public resources have weakened service delivery, slowed infrastructure development and eroded investor confidence.

Equally significant is the enduring legacy of apartheid. More than three decades after democracy, inequalities in education, housing, infrastructure and economic opportunities remain deeply entrenched. Many Black communities still live with the consequences of decades of institutional discrimination and economic exclusion.

Against this backdrop, blaming undocumented immigrants for South Africa’s economic difficulties amounts to little more than scapegoating. It is a convenient narrative that diverts attention from the country’s more fundamental governance and developmental challenges.

The recurring xenophobic attacks against Nigerians and other African nationals make the situation even more painful. The recent killing of Emeka Iroegbu and Musa Yunana Joe on June 28, 2026, amid rising anti-migrant tensions, is a tragic reminder of how dangerous such sentiments can become.

One cannot help but ask: Is this the same South Africa for which Nigeria and many other African countries stood firmly during the anti-apartheid struggle?
I vividly remember growing up in the 1980s, listening to songs such as Free Mandela and Stop Apartheid in South Africa by iconic Nigerian musicians, including Majek Fashek, Onyeka Onwenu and Sonny Okosun. Those songs dominated the airwaves on NTA and became powerful symbols of African solidarity.

As a child, I even believed Nelson Mandela was Nigerian because Nigerians embraced his cause with such passion.
Mandela was released from prison in 1990 and became South Africa’s first Black President in 1994, bringing an end to decades of institutionalised racial segregation and apartheid. Today, just over three decades later, many Africans who once stood shoulder to shoulder with South Africans in their darkest hour are treated as unwelcome strangers.
History can be painfully ironic.

Perhaps, then, the saying that one good turn deserves another does not always reflect reality. Human beings are capable of repaying kindness with hostility. It is an uncomfortable truth, but one that life repeatedly teaches.

At a personal level, this reminds us to live with fewer expectations and strive for greater self-reliance. A heart that expects little, even after giving much, is less likely to be broken.

At the national level, however, the lesson is far more profound. Nigeria must build a country where its citizens can thrive without feeling compelled to seek survival elsewhere. Studies have shown that the overwhelming motivation behind the Japa phenomenon is the search for better opportunities and improved living conditions. If those opportunities existed at home, many Nigerians would gladly remain and contribute to national development.

The experience in South Africa—and, indeed, recent developments in the United States—demonstrates that immigration policies are shaped by changing political realities. No foreign country offers permanent guarantees.

Although the U.S. Supreme Court recently ruled against President Donald Trump’s executive order seeking to abolish birthright citizenship on constitutional grounds, the episode illustrates that even long-established policies can become subjects of political contestation. A constitutional principle that has existed since 1868 could still become a matter of national debate. That alone should remind us that every nation ultimately prioritises its own interests.
The enduring lesson is simple: no country can offer Nigerians greater long-term security than a well-governed Nigeria.

Nigeria’s greatest asset remains its people. Sustainable national prosperity can only be built through visionary leadership, accountable institutions, respect for the rule of law and responsible citizenship. When government creates an enabling environment and citizens embrace innovation, productivity and accountability, Nigeria can become a destination for investment rather than a source of economic migration.

As dozens of Nigerians return home following their repatriation from South Africa, government must move beyond sympathy and symbolic gestures. Some have returned with nothing more than the clothes they wore and a single travelling bag, leaving behind businesses, investments and years of hard work. Their return is not merely a journey home; for many, it is the painful collapse of dreams painstakingly built over decades. They deserve meaningful support to rebuild their lives and contribute productively to the nation’s economy once again.

History teaches that nations are strengthened not by chasing away strangers but by creating opportunities for their own citizens. Nigeria must therefore draw the right lessons from South Africa’s painful experience. Rather than exporting its brightest minds in search of survival, it should become a country where talent is rewarded, enterprise is encouraged and hope no longer requires a passport. Only then will Nigeria become not merely the giant of Africa by population, but by the quality of life it offers its people.

 

Olusegun Hassan, Ph.D
Public Policy Analyst and Social Commentator

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An Open Letter to Northern Leaders: Arewa Is Bleeding. Who Will Answer the Call? 

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I write this letter with a heavy heart to the sons and daughters of Arewa, particularly those entrusted with leadership and influence, concerning the painful reality confronting our region today. Once united in purpose and driven by a shared vision, Arewa now appears to be living in the shadow of its glorious past.

Our forefathers built this great region with one voice, setting aside differences of ethnicity and religion. They understood that unity was our greatest strength and that our diversity was not a weakness but a blessing. Their legacy was one of peace, mutual respect, visionary leadership, and collective progress.

Today, it is heartbreaking to witness how far we have drifted from those ideals. This letter is a sincere call for reflection, reconciliation, and a renewed commitment to rebuilding the unity, security, and prosperity that once defined our beloved Arewa.

Arewa Under Siege

Northern Nigeria has become widely known as a hotspot for multiple forms of insecurity. From the Boko Haram insurgency to widespread kidnapping, armed banditry, and violent attacks, fear has become part of everyday life. People no longer feel safe in their homes, workplaces, on their farms, or while travelling on the highways. Every journey is undertaken with uncertainty, with no guarantee of arriving safely.
Even more troubling is the perception that these security challenges have become normalised. Reports of abductions, killings, and attacks have become so frequent that they often receive far less attention than they deserve. This perceived indifference from those in positions of authority has contributed to a growing public belief that criminal groups now operate with confidence and relative impunity.

Consequently, many residents feel abandoned, while public trust in the government’s ability to protect lives and property continues to erode.

Addressing this crisis requires a coordinated and sustained response through stronger security operations, improved intelligence gathering, greater support for affected communities, and genuine accountability. Without decisive action, the cycle of violence and fear will continue to undermine the region’s stability, economic development, and the well-being of its people.

Beyond Insecurity: A Crisis of Leadership

The North’s challenges are not accidental. Poverty, insecurity, and underdevelopment are the cumulative consequences of long-standing structural failures, weak governance, and policy choices that have compounded over decades.

Responsibility is shared across different segments of society—including the political elite, the educated class, and the business community—many of whom have possessed both the influence and the opportunity to intervene more decisively than they have.

Rather than being the result of a single coordinated agenda, what is evident is a persistent pattern of neglect, weak accountability, and recurring governance failures that have allowed social and economic conditions to deteriorate. These failures have contributed to rising unemployment, declining educational outcomes, inadequate healthcare, and the expansion of insecurity across much of the region.

Breaking this cycle requires more than assigning blame. It demands institutional reform, accountable leadership, strategic investment in human capital, and a renewed sense of public responsibility.

Where Are the Northern Elite?

This brings us to the most difficult question: Where are the Northern elite? Where are the governors, ministers, lawmakers, business leaders, scholars, and other influential voices? Many command enormous influence, considerable private wealth, and extensive international networks, yet too often appear unable—or unwilling—to meaningfully confront the conditions that continue to leave large parts of the region insecure, impoverished, and politically weakened.

Why does this gap persist?

Part of the answer lies in proximity to power. In political environments shaped by patronage, speaking boldly may threaten access, while silence preserves influence. Over time, self-preservation begins to resemble strategy.

Unfortunately, the cost is borne not by those in positions of privilege but by ordinary communities far removed from the rooms where decisions are made.

Reviving the North’s Industrial Legacy
Northern Nigeria was once the industrial powerhouse of the country. Cities such as Kano and Kaduna were thriving centres of manufacturing, commerce, and employment. Today, much of that industrial strength has faded.

This is, therefore, a respectful appeal to two of Nigeria’s most accomplished industrialists—Aliko Dangote and Abdul Samad Rabiu. Many people continue to ask why there is limited visible large-scale industrial reinvestment in Kano, your home state, and across Northern Nigeria.

As a Kano indigene, and to the best of my knowledge, neither Aliko Dangote nor Abdul Samad Rabiu currently operates major manufacturing facilities actively producing in Kano. Several facilities associated with their businesses are widely reported to have become inactive or to function primarily as warehouses rather than active industrial plants. For example, along Tafawa Balewa Road, two BUA facilities that previously operated flour and vegetable oil mills are reported to have ceased production. Likewise, several Dangote industrial sites stretching from Mai Malari Road to the Sharada Industrial Area are also widely reported to be inactive or operating far below capacity.

Kano and Kaduna, once renowned for their vibrant manufacturing sectors, have experienced decades of industrial decline, resulting in widespread unemployment and underutilised infrastructure. At the same time, a significant share of new private-sector industrial investment appears to have been concentrated in other parts of the country, particularly the South-West. This naturally raises important questions about balanced national development.
Philanthropy remains valuable and deeply appreciated. Scholarships, donations, and humanitarian support undoubtedly improve lives. However, charity cannot replace sustainable industrial development.

What the North urgently needs is long-term investment that revives manufacturing, creates employment, strengthens local supply chains, develops skills, and rebuilds industrial ecosystems across Kano, Kaduna, and neighbouring states. Strong factories build strong communities, while sustainable industries create lasting prosperity. The expectation, therefore, is not charity but a renewed commitment to the economic transformation of the region where many of Nigeria’s greatest industrial success stories first began.

The Responsibility of Business Leaders

The Northern business elite have watched insecurity, poverty, and displacement deepen while economic activity has increasingly concentrated elsewhere.

Insurgency, banditry, and weakened rural governance have disrupted agriculture, trade routes, and local markets. Investment naturally gravitates towards safer and more predictable environments. Yet public advocacy from many influential business leaders has often remained muted, constrained by commercial interests, political relationships, and regulatory considerations.

The region risks becoming divided into two realities: one integrated into national wealth and opportunity, and the other left to bear the consequences of persistent insecurity, economic stagnation, and neglect.

Business leadership extends beyond generating profits. It also entails helping to create an environment where enterprise can flourish, jobs can be created, and communities can prosper. Sustainable economic growth depends not only on private investment but also on the willingness of influential stakeholders to advocate policies and initiatives that promote stability, security, and inclusive development.

The North’s business community has historically played a significant role in shaping the region’s economic fortunes. That tradition of leadership remains essential today. While governments bear primary responsibility for governance and security, the private sector also possesses the capacity to influence development through strategic investments, partnerships, innovation, and constructive engagement with public institutions.

Rebuilding confidence in Northern Nigeria requires collaboration among government, businesses, civil society, and local communities. A more secure and prosperous region ultimately benefits everyone, creating new opportunities for investment, employment, and long-term economic growth.

A Message to Political Leaders

To the political leadership of Northern Nigeria: the contradiction has become increasingly difficult to ignore. The region remains one of the country’s most significant in terms of population and political influence, yet it continues to lag behind on key development indicators such as education, healthcare, infrastructure, employment, and security.

When communities are attacked, farmers are displaced, and schools are forced to close, silence from those entrusted with leadership is seldom interpreted as restraint. More often, it is perceived as detachment. Leadership is measured not only by electoral success or political influence but also by the willingness to confront difficult realities with courage, empathy, and decisive action.

The expectations of citizens go beyond promises. They seek visible commitment, practical solutions, and sustained engagement with the challenges affecting their daily lives. Rebuilding public confidence requires leadership that is accountable, responsive, and focused on the long-term development of the region.

A Message to the Educated and Professional Class

To our academics, professionals, and intellectuals: the evidence is neither hidden nor difficult to find. Reports, research, and lived experiences consistently reveal widening gaps in human development, education, healthcare, and security.

Yet, too often, expertise remains confined within institutions and professional circles that discourage open engagement with entrenched power. Knowledge should not merely describe problems; it should help solve them. Research should inform policy, enrich public debate, and contribute meaningfully to sustainable solutions.

Every society depends on courageous thinkers who are willing to engage constructively, challenge complacency, and place the public interest above personal convenience. The North possesses no shortage of intellectual talent. What is needed is a stronger connection between knowledge and action.

A Message to Cultural Influencers

To our musicians, artists, writers, actors, and other public figures: throughout history, art has served as a powerful instrument of truth, reflection, and social transformation. Cultural voices have inspired movements, preserved history, and given hope to communities during difficult times.

Yet, when economic survival becomes closely tied to political or commercial interests, critical voices often become subdued. Society benefits when its cultural figures speak with honesty, empathy, and a sense of responsibility. Their influence extends beyond entertainment; it helps shape public values, inspire civic engagement, and amplify the concerns of ordinary people.

A Shared Responsibility

Ultimately, this is not solely a Northern Nigerian problem. It reflects a broader question confronting societies everywhere: what happens when elite interests become disconnected from the well-being of ordinary people?

When access becomes more valuable than accountability, and proximity to power outweighs responsibility to the public, silence is rarely accidental—it becomes institutionalised.

The result is a widening emotional and political distance between leadership and the people. Unless that distance is narrowed through meaningful investment, principled advocacy, and courageous leadership, the same questions will continue to resonate:

Who speaks? Who benefits? Who bears the cost?

History will judge every generation by how it responds to the challenges of its time. Northern Nigeria possesses enormous human potential, entrepreneurial talent, agricultural resources, and a rich cultural heritage.

What it requires now is leadership marked by vision, courage, integrity, and an unwavering commitment to the common good.

This letter is not intended to condemn but to encourage honest reflection and meaningful action. The future of Arewa depends not only on government but also on every leader, businessperson, scholar, professional, artist, and citizen willing to place the region’s long-term prosperity above personal or political interests.

May we find the wisdom to rebuild what has been weakened, the courage to confront uncomfortable truths, and the determination to restore Northern Nigeria to its rightful place as a region of peace, opportunity, and shared prosperity.

 

Abba Dukawa writes from Kano and can be reached at abbahydukawa@gmail.com.

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2027: Why Oyo APC Should Close Ranks Behind Sarafadeen Alli | By Adeniyi Olowofela

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Since the emergence of Senator Sarafadeen Alli as the governorship candidate of the All Progressives Congress (APC) for the 2027 election in Oyo State, I have listened to and read numerous reactions from party members and stakeholders. While some of his co-contestants have expressed disappointment, such feelings are understandable in every keenly contested democratic process.

Interestingly, many people have attempted to draw Senator Teslim Folarin into the controversy surrounding the party’s choice. However, he has remained silent. In my view, that silence is deliberate. I believe Senator Folarin understands the direction taken by the party’s national leadership regarding the choice of candidate.

Anyone who believes Senator Folarin was unaware of Senator Sarafadeen Alli’s governorship ambition does not fully appreciate his political experience. Senator Folarin is a strategic politician. In the 2023 governorship election, he pursued victory with determination and commitment. Personally, I had hoped he would emerge victorious, and I remain convinced that he gave his all in that contest.

Former Minister of Power, Chief Bayo Adelabu, also contested the 2023 governorship election on the platform of the Accord Party. Although I disagreed with that political decision, democracy guarantees every citizen the freedom of association and political choice.

Following the election, he was appointed into the Federal Executive Council, a development many interpreted differently based on their political perspectives.

Today, Chief Adelabu commands a substantial political following built over several election cycles. His support base remains significant, and if APC is to present a formidable front in 2027, Senator Sarafadeen Alli will undoubtedly benefit from the goodwill and backing of Adelabu and his loyalists.

Similarly, former Minister of Communications, Barrister Adebayo Shittu, has consistently demonstrated interest in Oyo State’s governorship over the years, even though he did not purchase the APC nomination form this time. His political experience and network remain valuable assets that should not be ignored.

My sympathy also goes to those aspirants who invested as much as ₦50 million each to purchase the APC governorship nomination form. That is no small sacrifice. Nonetheless, politics demands sacrifice in the collective interest. The pendulum could easily have swung in favour of any of them. Had that happened, the rest of us would equally have appealed to others to rally behind the eventual flag bearer.

I recall an incident during the 2022/2023 party activities when an official from Abuja, sent to supervise APC affairs in Oyo State, passionately appealed to stakeholders to embrace consensus. His message remains instructive. He warned that continued division within the party would only prolong its stay outside power and ultimately hurt everyone.

That warning remains relevant today.
For seven years, the APC has remained outside government in Oyo State. Can the party afford another four years in opposition? I do not think so.

This is why the task before us goes beyond the personal ambition of Senator Sarafadeen Alli. It is a collective struggle for every APC member, especially the foot soldiers who have remained loyal through difficult times. The Federal Government alone cannot provide opportunities for everyone. Regaining power in Oyo State is essential if the party hopes to broaden opportunities for its members at both the state and federal levels.

The challenge before us, therefore, is to build a larger political platform that accommodates everyone.
Senator Sarafadeen Alli is no political novice. Over the years, he has built relationships across virtually every ward in Oyo State. His political structure and grassroots appeal are undeniable. If party members unite behind him, APC stands a strong chance of returning to Government House.

Realistically, the 2027 governorship contest in Oyo State is shaping up to feature three major political forces. First is Senator Sarafadeen Alli of the APC, representing arguably the state’s most established political platform. Second is Hon. Bimbo Adekanbi, who many believe enjoys the backing of Governor Seyi Makinde and is expected to fly the flag of the APM. Third is Alhaji Hazmat Oriyomi of the Accord Party, whose growing popularity among many grassroots supporters cannot be dismissed.

The eventual winner is likely to emerge from one of these three political blocs. That reality alone should remind APC members that victory is far from guaranteed.

The surest path to success is unity.

This election should not be seen as Senator Sarafadeen Alli’s personal battle. It is the collective responsibility of every APC member who desires the party’s return to power in Oyo State.

The time has come to bury personal grievances, close ranks and work together. Only through unity can APC reclaim Oyo State in 2027.

 

Prof. Adeniyi Olowofela, former Chairman of the defunct Alliance for Democracy (AD) in Oyo State, former Chairman of Ido Local Government, former Commissioner for Education, Science and Technology in Oyo State, and former Federal Commissioner representing Oyo State at the Federal Character Commission (FCC), writes from Abuja.

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