Opinion
Binani, Buhari: Hurt, guilt and forgiveness
President Muhammadu Buhari, on Friday, asked Nigerians who he might have hurt in his near-eight-year misrule, to forgive him. Similarly, a section of social media is asking for forgiveness for Aishatu Dahiru, popularly known as Binani. Dahiru is the woman who, before the April gubernatorial election re-run in Adamawa State, was considered a political exemplar and one who typified the assumed political purity of the female gender.
Very few narratives of the concept of hurt and forgiveness are as gripping as the grisly story of Father Michael Lapsley. As he walked into the sitting of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) that morning, Lapsley was a study in pain, sobering pain. What remained of his two arms were ugly stumps. In their place was a pair of equally ugly pincers. One of his two eyes had been gouged out too; his eardrum shattered. As he tottered into the hall, dead silence accompanied every one of his gaits. In April 1990, three months after Nelson Mandela’s release from his 27-year imprisonment, Lapsley received a letter in his Zimbabwean home. He never remained the same again. Encrypted in the letter was a bomb that shattered his life into smithereens.
He had been excited receiving the letters. These were his exact words as he narrated to the TRC: “It was a normal warm autumn day…April… when I became the focal point of all that is evil. I returned from a series of lectures in Canada. A pile of mail had accumulated on my desk, among others something with an ANC letterhead. The envelope stated that it contained theological magazines. While I was busy on the phone with someone, I started opening the manila envelope on the coffee table to my side. The first magazine was Afrikaans… that I put aside, I can’t read Afrikaans. The second was in English. I tore off the plastic and opened the magazine… and that was the mechanism that detonated the bomb… I felt how I was being blown into the air… throughout it all, I never lost my consciousness.”
Born Alan Michael Lapsley on June 2, 1949, in New Zealand, Lapsley, a white man, was ordained into the priesthood in Australia and arrived in Durban, South Africa, in 1973 to pursue his undergraduate studies. In the thick of apartheid’s repression, he was made chaplain in both black and white universities, and by 1976, he gave himself the task of speaking for schoolchildren shot and detained by apartheid police. In 1982, Lapsley escaped being killed in a police raid where 42 people were killed and thus ran to Zimbabwe
Antjie Krogg, the South African Broadcasting Corporation (SABC) reporter, covered the TRC proceedings. Like our own Mathew Hassan-Kukah, Krogg crafted the tear-dripping narrations into an award-winning book entitled Country of my skull. In the book, Krog narrated the moment Lapsley entered the TRC better: “It is these stainless-steel pincers that Father Lapsley raised to take the oath before his submission…‘So help me God.’ But it is also these pincers that prevent him from wiping away his tears like other victims. When their stories are cut too close, victims often bury their faces in their hands and wipe their eyes with tissues. But how do you hold the fragile veil of tissue in such pincers? How do you complete the simple act of blowing your nose? Several times the pincers move towards his face in a reflex action – as if he wants to cover his face with his hands – and every moment flashes the inhumanity of South Africa’s past into the hall… hard, shiny, and sterile.”
Desmond Tutu, chairman of the TRC, put the Lapsley pain in a far sobering perspective. “There is always a special silence when Lapsley takes the Communion. First, you think people are nervous that he may knock the cup over with his pincers – but then it becomes absolutely quiet.”
As the searing pain whistled through his being, Lapsley was ready to forgive President F.W. de Klerk who, like Muhammadu Buhari, was at the helm of affairs when the hit squad did this irreparable damage of parcel-bombing him. “Someone had to type my name on the manila envelope; somebody made the bomb. I often ask the question, ‘What did these people tell their children that they did that day?’”
On forgiving the president and the architects of his lifelong incapacitation, he said: “I haven’t forgiven anyone, because I have no one to forgive. No one was charged with this crime, and so, for me, forgiveness is still an abstract concept. But if I knew that the people who sent my bomb were now in prison, then I’d happily unlock the gates – although I’d like to know that they weren’t going to make any more bombs. I believe in restorative justice and I believe in reparation. So, my attitude to the perpetrator is this: I’ll forgive them, but since I’ll never get my hands back, and will therefore always need someone to help me, they should pay that person’s wages. Not as a condition of forgiveness, but as part of reparation and restitution.”
So, Aishatu Dahiru is being touted as deserving of Nigerian people’s forgiveness. Dahiru had subjected herself to a bout of self-flagellation when she openly flirted with the endemic political disease of electoral corruption that has driven Nigeria back for decades. Let us, for a moment, did the allegation that she gave the sum of N2 billion to the now absconded Hudu Yususa-Ari, the Adamawa Resident Electoral Commissioner. You cannot but find Mrs. Dahiru complicit in the one-week Adamawa electoral debacle.
Within a few hours, Nigeria landed in a state of electoral dystopia. You could hear scornful laughter at Nigeria from across the globe. It was the kind of laughter Idi Amin Dada of Uganda provoked in the 1970s. Either out of psychopathic disorder or sheer bravado, Dada had balls made of steel and could look a bullet in the eye and bite it. In the Byzantine world of the 1970s, the unwritten cliche was, look towards Uganda. For the bizarre, the weird, and the outright grotesque of the world’s global manifestations of that time, Uganda provided ample surreal examples.
For instance, at the height of his assumed racial victory over erstwhile colonial lords, Dada sent love letters to the Queen Elizabeth II of England, asking for her hands in marriage. The mockery of the black man provoked by this infantile and derisive love missive was massive. The elephant-sized soldier, considered to be one of the most despotic rulers in human history, actually also wanted to be the King of Scotland. In his infamous memory, a film, entitled The Last King of Scotland was shot to permanently memorialize his infamy. A 2006 film that was directed by Kevin Macdonald, The Last King was an adaptation of a Peter Morgan and Jeremy Brock screenplay, product of a Giles Foden’s novel on Dada. It is a depiction of the Ugandan emperor from the prism of a fictional Scottish doctor. Dada also gave himself the title of “Conqueror of the British Empire.”
To further reinforce his buffoonery in power, Dada once sent a love-like telegram to the highly respected Julius Nyerere of Tanzania. He loved the Nwalimu – the Swahili cognomen given to Nyerere for his teachable spirit – he said. To demonstrate his love for him, if the Nwalimu was a woman, Dada said he would have gladly considered marrying him, not minding his grizzled head!
In concert with Yususa-Ari and some other infamous but unseen architects of darkness, Binani’s role in that attempted electoral heist can be likened to the popular Yoruba aphorism that the one who climbed the rafters to steal a drum of palm oil is not as complicit as one who received the loot. She was the planned receiver of the heist. When the erstwhile Amazon now went ahead to deliver an acceptance speech shortly after she was illegally declared the governor-elect by the REC, she promptly defined the mis-biology inherent in attributing electoral corruption only to the male gender. With the way things are now, it will amount to presidential folly and miscarriage of justice if Yususa-Ari and a few others are tried for electoral robbery and Binani is left out. Nigeria’s concept of forgiveness, I am sure, is not as elastic as to have enough room for a desperado for power as Binani.
So, President Buhari covets our forgiveness? At the occasion which marked his final outing as president on an Eid-el-Fitr day last Friday, Buhari asked Nigerians to forgive him at whatever point he might have hurt them. “All those that I have hurt, I ask that they pardon me. God gave me an incredible opportunity to serve the country. We are all humans, if I have hurt some people along the line of my service to the country, I ask that they pardon me. I think it is a good coincidence for me to say goodbye to you and thank you for tolerating me for almost eight years.”
At what point do we begin to interrogate the concept of forgiveness for Buhari? For which of his sins does he deserve forgiveness; his gross inactions or egregious misactions? While leaders, like all human beings, are capable of erring, last week’s open exchange of flaks between Buhari and the Benue governor, Samuel Ortom, should delineate the boundary of hurt, guilt, and forgiveness. Few states did not see themselves in the mirror a killing field that Nigeria became under Buhari in the last eight years. In separate attacks in the last month, over 100 people were killed by armed men in Benue state. Two newspapers, the Daily Trust and ThisDay newspapers wrote separate editorials that were scurrilous attacks on the president on the recent upsurge of killings in Benue.
In reply, Garba Shehu, Buhari’s media aide, claimed it was wrong to blame Buhari for the killings. Thousands have been killed and maimed in the last eight years of Buhari’s rule. Similar bloody scenarios of massacres and kidnappings occurred severally in Plateau, Southern Kaduna, Niger, Sokoto, and Katsina States, the latter being the home of the president. In all of them, multiple of thousands of people lost their lives. All we got from Buhari and his obsequious party were condolence messages.
I imagine how many Father Lapsleys Buhari birthed in his eight years of misrule, through his effeminate policies and masculine mids-policies. From Igangan in Oyo State to the Southeast and virtually all the zones of Nigeria, his lack of leadership was the death of many an enterprise and even lives. Just do statistical appraisals of Nigerians who died, got economically crippled, and maimed for life on account of his Naira change policy, for example, and the calamity of the Buhari years will surface.
Ortom’s reply to him is a reflection of the hurt that Buhari’s rule wreaked on Nigeria. He had said: “Buhari has empowered and emboldened the Fulani pastoralists in their expansionist agenda including killings. It is equally a known fact that President Buhari has failed woefully in securing Nigeria, and Benue State in particular.” Ortom then went ahead to lay the blame on the government for “complicity in the killings orchestrated against Benue people by the Fulani herdsmen as represented by Miyetti Allah Kautal, Fulani Nationality Movement, FUNAM and other Fulani socio-cultural groups.”
So, where do we begin to forgive Buhari? How appropriately can we delineate the province of the massive hurts he brought on the land in eight years? In propounding the theory of forgiveness, ideological purist, Jose Zalaquett, said that the first step to take is an acknowledgment of guilt. The same was acknowledged by Krog: “Perpetrators need to acknowledge the wrong they did. Why? It creates a communal starting point.”
It is not in the place of Buhari to ask for forgiveness while not acknowledging his guilt. According to German philosopher and social theorist, Jurgen Habermas, what the president tried to do by that blanket demand for forgiveness was to slither into what is called collective guilt. “Collective guilt does not exist. Whoever is guilty will have to answer individually,” he said. In any case, how do you assume guilt collectively when the perpetrators of the forgiveness which you seek are still roaming the streets and are yet to be apprehended? Again, Alexander Solzhenitsyn, a Russian writer, prominent Soviet dissident, and outspoken critic of communism who raised global awareness of the existence of repression in the old Soviet Union, especially his Gulag system, has a rebuke for Buhari’s escapism: “By not dealing with past human rights violations, we are… ripping the foundations of justice from beneath new generations.”
Let me quickly parody that heretical quip in Wole Soyinka’s The Man Died. Can someone tell Buhari to stop weeping by our rooftop, please? We do not need his last-minute platitude.
Celebrated columnist, Dr. Festus Adedayo writes from Ibadan, Oyo state
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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