Opinion
Before they kidnap our president
Singer and songwriter, Bukola Elemide, is better known as Asa. She was paid by the Nigerian state to perform on Tuesday last week in Abuja at the launch of the Nigerian National Petroleum Company Limited.
Buhari was seated; many others who mis-run Nigeria with him were there too. They expected a Baba-has-done-well song because they were in the Villa tucked away from the groans of the grumpy, hungry poor. But black-clad Asa chose to ‘tickle’ them all with her song of rebuke: “There is fire on the mountain/ And nobody seems to be on the run/ Oh, there is fire on the mountaintop/ And no one is a-runnin’…” She sang and danced and sang and stopped. There was an applause. I am not sure it was as loud as it was supposed to be. Not all who had palms in that room clapped for the songstress. They were not sure which could be more seditious between their clapping and Asa’s song of fire. I won’t blame them. You never could tell, the president might understand the message! And why that particular song for that oily occasion? I watched the event and the song and the protest in the singer’s eyes. She appeared echoing Bob Dylan’s defiant explanation on a dark situation as that of Asa: “The song is a sort of striking out, a reaction to the last straw, a feeling of what can you do?”
Bob Dylan spoke about his song reacting to “the last straw.” The last straw would appear to be yesterday’s threat by Kaduna train attack terrorists to abduct our president and a state governor and others and sell off their captives. We’ve all watched the distressing video released by the terrorists. After thoroughly beating the unfortunate captives, they made an announcement; this: “Just as the Chibok girls that were sold off, we will equally sell these ones as slaves. If you don’t accede to our demands, we will kill the ones we need to kill and sell the remaining. By God’s grace, El-Rufai, Buhari, we will bring you here…” Scary. I wanted to say we should beg these fellows to leave our president alone because his freedom is our collective freedom, but then I remembered that the Villa is the safest house in Nigeria. And that is where the president lives.
I was in Accra, Ghana, two weeks ago. The very first night there, at some minutes past 10pm, I felt an alien presence by my hotel room door. Some people may be in deep sleep, yet they are awake. I think I belong to that group. William Shakespeare in Macbeth describes sleep as “death of each day’s life, sore labour’s bath, balm of hurt minds, great nature’s second course, chief nourisher in life’s feast…” Mahatma Ghandi, father of India, had his own version of what sleep is. He told his country: “Each night, when I go to sleep, I die. And the next morning, when I wake up, I am reborn.” That is sleep. My people say sleep is that thief that snatches whatever a child holds. But they also add that what is inside a child, sleep cannot take away. I was drifting deep into sleep; then that invasive feeling of strangeness by my door, then a knock and a hello.
Not every hello is from a friend. I knew that fact before I was born. I checked the time; it was 10.22pm. Who could that be? I used the peephole – some call it spyhole. A man in uniform, a security officer knocking at my door – at night, in a foreign country! I should open the door; after all, I entered Ghana fulfilling every demand of the law. But, you know, not everyone in security dress is a security man. We saw that fact at an APC event in Abuja last week where the roue were dressed in costumes of the puritan. My Latin-speaking friend would say “cucullus non facit monachum (The cowl does not make the monk).” Wearing a cassock does not make a man a bishop – not in Abuja, not anywhere. Whether home or abroad, never judge anyone by their external appearance. So, I froze the push to reply the ‘hello’ and open the door. Then I made to answer the knock; then the man in uniform started moving away. He left. I went back to bed. But on that floor of the hotel, I could hear doors loudly opening and closing, followed by human voices. I slept.
The next morning I was at the reception.
“What happened last night,” I asked the front office lady.
“We are sorry for what happened last night. It was the Immigration people,” she told me.
“Immigration in hotel rooms? What were they looking for.” I asked because it was strange to me.
“They do that randomly. Searching for illegal aliens. Sometimes they come at 2a.m. Catch them in bed, sort of. They want to be sure that the documentations we did on our guests correspond with what the guests hold. It is all for our country to be safe from unwanted guests.”
The receptionist noticed surprise in my eyes and asked: “Don’t your own Immigration people do that in Nigeria?”
I smiled.
While all that was going on, a private security man at the hotel gate was also saying ‘sorry’ to another guest, also a Nigerian. He explained that the Kuje jailbreak in Nigeria triggered the visit and several other visits to other hotels. The Kuje incident, you remember, unleashed 64 terror suspects on humanity. The fire on Nigeria’s mountaintop is noticed in Ghana and everyone there is running. No one wants deadly terrorists inside their bedroom. I reminded myself that my country is a very unusual country. Our security people are also unusual – things like enforcing rules against unwanted aliens hardly excite them; it is not profitable. Going after illegal aliens is apparently not part of the training my country gives its immigration men. It would be done only if it would fetch good fortune – like what they do with issuance of passports to Nigerians. Possession or renewal of a Nigerian passport by Nigerians is as difficult as entering the Kingdom of God; you hold the document only if you are strong and your breast plate is made of steel of diamond.
In and out of Ghana, the security men (and even cab drivers) I encountered at the decorous airport in Accra were well-dressed and courteous and businesslike. I arrived into the suffocation called Lagos airport and took more than a passing interest in how my country’s airport people handled their work. A very smart female superior officer was in charge of immigration procedures. Her men were in their cubicle attending to passengers’ passports the way they should. But the officer who attended to me was more on the phone than on duty. Perhaps, it was because it was a Friday. I should be forgiven for saying that. Here, Fridays are not for serious work. And I saw men in our airport doing security work in mufti. Should a uniformed force go to work without uniform – even if it was a Friday? James Hain Friswell (1825-1878) says dress has an effect upon character: “An ill-dressed man will never be so much at ease as one who is well-dressed…A mean and shabby appearance gives a man mean and shabby ways…”
Ghana appears to have better security sense than Africa’s most populous country. Wisdom is not assigned by number or by size. We are a country of 200 million people badly managed and wrecked by collusion with the unthinkable. My own country does not mind being overrun by the fires of unwanted guests – from Niger, from Sudan, from Mali, from Chad, from Libya, from etc. They come and get grafted onto our stem. They are everywhere as I write, top to bottom. One day, aliens will rule over us – that is if it has not happened already. The cost for bad behaviour is very high. In December 1980, Nigeria experienced what history describes as the first major religious crisis in post-colonial Kano – the Maitatsine riots. It was led by one Mohammed Marwa, an illegal alien from Cameroun, whose entry was enabled by Nigeria’s unguarded openings and whose excesses were accommodated by the country’s complicit law – all because he was a preacher. That the riots officially killed 4,179 people is not the major tragedy from that war. The real tragedy is that Maitatsine riots deflowered Nigeria and prepared the ground for Boko Haram which has wrecked the North and its people and has murdered the peace of our country.
A train was going to Kaduna from Abuja 119 days ago, it was attacked by terrorists. Of the unknown number of passengers in that train, the terrorists killed some, they abducted many. There are 43 of the abducted still in captivity. A video of their horrific flogging by their abductors trended yesterday. Bulama Bukarti, a fellow at the Tony Blair Institute who watched the video and understood the language tweeted on Sunday that one of the terrorists said in the clip that “he was among those who escaped from Kuje Prison.” I saw frightened women, young and old; I saw terrorised children and infants in the video. And that scene is a Nigerian spot. Who is in charge here?
Nigeria is a huge mountain on fire and the whole world, except Nigeria, has noted that fact. That is what Ghana’s close attention to visitors from Nigeria means. Nothing saddens elders more than being told that an illness has no medicine, no corrective ritual. The creator of Nigeria gave it congenital deformity in manners and conduct that stultify its growth and the bloom of its flowers. Nothing will resolve the problem – not a 2023 continuation of APC/Buhari’s reign through Tinubu/èmi l’ókàn presidency; not a second coming of PDP/Atiku presidency; not Peter Obi and his ‘obidient’ warriors. Nothing. And you know what modern medicine prescribes as remedies for being born with defects: surgery, maybe, but compulsorily, long-term support. That is a little short of saying this country is an invalid that may go to its grave with its unresolved and unresolvable malformations. You may also want to ask: Those being paid to make things not to go bad, where are they? They are sleeping on duty while the nation burns in every part – from economy to politics to security to everything. The late Alaafin of Oyo, Oba Lamidi Adeyemi, in one of his many deep interventions, called our attention to what the palace drummer told the king every morning: “Get up, no one sends his child to the toilet to poo on his behalf.” A king-size job should be a king’s job. It is not so with Nigeria and its drivers. No one takes responsibility for nursing the invalid nation. Every delegate delegates here, leaving the job fatally undone – and without consequences. There was an attack on a prison very close to where the president calls official residence. A common slap on the wrist no one has received. A mass murderer, Adamu Aleru, was sensationally made a chief in Zamfara State days ago. The turbanning ceremony was not sprung as a surprise on Nigeria and its security agencies; it did not take place at night. The bandit gave enough notice of his public ceremony to all and it held with a bang. Big bandits bearing big names were reportedly in attendance. Nothing happened to the terrorist and his guests and nothing will happen to them. That is the dictionary definition of privilege. Aleru has even granted a press interview with the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC) which is coming out today, 25 July, 2022, in a documentary entitled ‘The Bandit Warlords of Zamfara.’ In that documentary, you will hear this terrorist as he boasts, in cold blood, that while his men kidnap people, he kills people: “My men do that (kidnapping); I just go and kill them (people).” The world has come to an end in Nigeria.
Plato saw music as “a moral law” which “gives soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, a charm to sadness, gaiety and life to everything. It is the essence of order; it lends to all that is good, just, and beautiful.” The president listened to Asa and her song of tears on Tuesday. The train terrorists spoke their threats on Sunday. If Asa’s words were too arcane for the king’s septuagenarian ear, his courtiers should do us a favour. Let them bring out the lines in giant print for the palace to gaze at and chew on. All of us, elitist complicit enablers of bad, in government, outside government, should pay attention to Asa’s ‘Fire on the Mountain’ – particularly the last stanza:
“One day the river will overflow
And there’ll be nowhere for us to go
And we will run, run Wishing we had put out the fire.”
Celebrated columnist, Dr. Lasisi Olagunju writes from Ibadan
The All Progressives Congress (APC) in Oyo State stands on the edge of a consequential decision—one that may define not only its fortunes in Ibadan North Federal Constituency but also its broader political relevance in the state.
As the countdown to the party primaries intensifies, the question before APC leaders is no longer routine. It is strategic. It is urgent. And it is decisive: will the party align with the clear preference of the people or risk repeating costly political miscalculations?
At the centre of this debate is Hon. Khalil Mustapha Adegboyega, widely known as Repete—a name that has, over time, evolved from a political identity into a grassroots phenomenon.
A Candidate Rooted in the People
In contemporary Nigerian politics, where voter awareness is rising and expectations are shifting, candidates are increasingly judged not by promises but by presence. On this scale, Adegboyega stands tall.
His political journey is marked by consistent engagement with constituents—far beyond the optics of election seasons. From youth empowerment initiatives that provide practical skills and startup support, to sustained interventions in healthcare access for the elderly and indigent, his footprint across Ibadan North reflects a model of leadership anchored on service.
Unlike the transactional approach that often defines political relationships, Adegboyega’s connection with the people appears organic—built on trust, accessibility, and continuity. These are not mere campaign attributes; they are political assets.
The Danger of Political Disconnect
History offers the APC a clear lesson: parties that ignore grassroots sentiment often pay a heavy electoral price. The imposition of candidates perceived as distant or untested has, in several instances, resulted in voter apathy, internal dissent, and eventual defeat at the polls.
Ibadan North presents no exception.
With opposition parties closely monitoring the APC’s internal dynamics, any misstep in candidate selection could provide a ready opening. A divided house, coupled with a candidate lacking widespread acceptance, is a formula the opposition is well-positioned to exploit.
The implication is straightforward: this is not merely about party loyalty; it is about electoral viability.
Echoes from the Grassroots
Across the length and breadth of Ibadan North—markets, motor parks, religious centres, and community gatherings—a consistent pattern emerges in political conversations. The name “Repete” resonates with familiarity and acceptance.
Such organic support is not easily manufactured. It is cultivated over time through visible impact and sustained presence. For a party seeking electoral certainty in a competitive environment, this level of grassroots validation is not just desirable—it is critical.
A Test of Leadership and Judgment
For the APC leadership in Oyo State, the moment calls for clarity of purpose. Decisions driven by narrow interests, personal alignments, or short-term calculations may carry long-term consequences.
The task, therefore, is to balance internal considerations with external realities. Elections are ultimately decided by voters, not by party caucuses. A candidate who commands public confidence offers the strongest pathway to victory.
The Stakes Are Clear
Ibadan North is too strategic a constituency for experimentation. The cost of error is not limited to a single seat; it extends to party cohesion, credibility, and future positioning within the state’s political landscape.
In this context, the argument for Adegboyega is less about sentiment and more about strategy. His visibility, acceptability, and record of engagement place him in a strong position to consolidate support and mobilise voters effectively.
Conclusion: A Choice with Consequences
As the APC moves closer to its primaries, the decision before it is both simple and significant: align with a candidate who reflects the mood of the electorate or risk conceding advantage to a watchful opposition.
In politics, moments such as this often separate foresight from hindsight.
For APC in Ibadan North, this may well be one of those defining moments.
Aderibigbe Akanbi, a political analyst, writes from Ibadan.
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
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