Opinion
My Life In One Year | By Florence Ajimobi
Published
5 years agoon
Growing up as a child, my favourite game was “house” (a game where children act like members of their family). I would force my siblings to play and I, of course, demanded to be the mother or wife. That is how much I love the idea of having and holding a family. I dreamt of keeping my marriage my whole life.
When my heartthrob, Biola and I decided in 1980 that we were ready to get married after a very short friendship of 6 months, I was very excited. Believe me, we had the best relationship anyone could have asked God for in the 40 years that we were together.
Unfortunately, loss, heartbreak and death are no respecter of persons. We watch dreams die, see people leave, lose their careers and even lose their loved ones but we never really know how it feels until we experience it ourselves. God is deeply acquainted with loss, He knows the pain of being let down and rejected. He knows what abandonment feels like. Jesus was left all alone by the people He loved most in the hardest and most painful hour of His life. It doesn’t matter who is lost or what is lost, loss is loss and it hurts deeply. I know this because I have felt it.
On the 20th of May, 2020, Biola and I tested positive with COVID-19 and we started our isolation at our Ikoyi home together, taking our medications and doing all we were advised to do by the doctor.
On the 26th of May, we both went to bed together but early in the morning of the 27th, I had to rush him to the First Cardiology Consultant Hospital, in Ikoyi. You cannot even imagine my confusion because this husband of mine had never fallen this ill in our 40 years of marriage. Anyways, he got admitted and it became the beginning of my journey without him around me.
Oh! I prayed like I had never done in my entire life. I must at this point commend my children and their friends who prayed tirelessly during this period. It was a period filled with fear and hope for me. I believed God was going to answer my prayers and bring my husband back home, but alas, on Thursday, 25th June, 2020, loss came knocking on my door and my world stopped when I was told my other half had left me to be with our Maker.
Gosh! I was dazed, scared, confused and wondered how we got to this stage. That afternoon, I asked God why He didn’t take me as well? I was in a state of shock. I was in my daughter’s house (where I stayed throughout the period my husband was at the hospital) when I received the information. I ran out of the house and headed straight to the hospital with a glimmer of hope for a miracle. When I saw my beloved husband on the bed, my heart was shattered. It dawned on me that my world had actually come to an end as my own best friend and the one who gave me strength was dead. I just could not take it in. How? Why? These were questions I asked every minute but none could answer me, no one could help me, it seemed like I was going crazy.
I went back home from the hospital and the place was filled with friends and family who had come to sympathize but none of them knew what was going on inside me. I was too confused to understand what was happening around me. On Friday, plans began on how to take him to Ibadan, Oyo State to be buried. I left for Ibadan on Saturday filled with shame because I felt that God had abandoned me despite my “supposed” relationship with Him.
My trauma began as I stepped into OUR HOME in Ibadan for the first time after the incident. I went into our bedroom, laid on his side of the bed and I cried out my heart, calling unto Biola and praying that all I was going through was just a dream. That night, sleep eluded me as I tossed and turned on the bed throughout the night. I opened all his side of our wardrobes and kept talking to myself – honestly, I felt I was going insane or believed I was to think he was dead.
On Sunday 28th, the children arrived with his body and he was laid to rest.
The grave was dug and my Biola was put in it. My heart stopped beating at that point and I wished everyone would just go away and let me die. It was a very traumatic day for me. I could not sleep that night, all I was picturing was how he was lowered into the grave and the reality that I would never see him again.
Next day, my children and I returned to Lagos and instead of going back to my daughter’s house, I went to our own home. You cannot imagine how I felt going back to that house without him. I went first into our room, laid on his side of the bed and I tried to recall the whole incident again. I was still asking “how did we get to the stage of you being dead?” This is one question I still haven’t received an answer for, and perhaps one that I will forever keep asking myself. Guests and sympathizers kept visiting and though he had been buried, I still wondered if really I was the one they were sympathizing with.
I lost the urge to live. I kept praying that God should just take me away to be with my soul-mate. Even the mandatory Islamic mourning period of 130 days (where I had to remain at home) made no difference to me. Where would I even go to without my husband?
There was no thrill in life again.
During this period, I had stopped praying to God. I told God I did not want His help anymore since He took the one person I cherished the most away. When pastors or my friends came to pray with me, I looked at them as time wasters. Sometimes, I was filled with hatred for them – why would they be talking about God who didn’t hear me when I prayed and cried unto Him to spare the life of Biola?
The loss of a loved one hurts, and learning to live with it is a long, difficult but necessary process. What I have learnt and can tell you for free is this; in our loss and grief, we can feel so alone and isolated, but God never leaves us when we hurt. He actually promised to be close to us and bandage us up in tough times.
Days ran into weeks and before I knew what was happening, it was 25th of July – a whole month without Biola, the love of my life. I think what was most painful for me is the fact that Biola and I never discussed death. All we ever talked about was how we were going to spend our retirement together. Never did the topic of death come up once. So, you can imagine my shock and disappointment when he suddenly left me.
Every day, I was dying slowly.
I was filled with so much sadness and pain that I went to bed every night praying not wake up in the morning. When I woke up next morning I asked myself, ‘you are up again?’ Then finally, the mandatory Islamic mourning period came to an end. My fear after the mourning period became how to start going out to face people, still carrying my load of shame and failure. By this time also the traffic of people in the house had reduced and my greatest trauma began when I started sleeping alone. Weeks became months and the woman who her husband complained that she sleeps too much couldn’t even sleep for 2 straight hours. What an irony.
My Biola was unique. Talking about him makes me happy and thinking about him gives my heart joy. To be honest, it is the only thing that has made me smile lately, besides my wonderful children, of course. After a while, I felt some sort of relief or so I thought until we had to celebrate the first ILEYA (an elaborate Islamic celebration) without him. ILEYA was normally a big celebration for us as a couple and family. I was hoping I’d wake up from the dream of him being dead and he would ask me for his new outfit for the celebration. It was not a dream. He was really gone and we had to celebrate without him. It did not feel the same. It would never feel the same without him. I cried bitterly on that day and went to his tomb asking him amidst tears why he left me?
Those who knew my husband know that he loved me very much and he was never afraid to express it even in public. Sometimes when I tried to shy away from his public display of affection, he would tell me “you are my wife and not a girlfriend.” I miss his cuddle and kisses. I miss our gists and fights. Biola was a hopeless romantic. He gave me everything. I miss him so much that I never thought I could survive without him. Yes! My survival till now is still a mystery to me, but, hey, one year has passed and I am still here. One year has passed but the pain in my heart still feels like it all happened yesterday.
You know, there’s really no timeline for how long grief and pain last. One really does not know how or when he or she will find closure. I will be honest with you, I still feel like I am in a rollercoaster. One minute I’m feeling strong and confident, next minute, I am overwhelmed with grief but I am grateful for the good and bad days.
December 16th of every year was a special day and it will forever remain so. It was a day I got to celebrate Biola and show him how much I appreciate and love him for all he does for me and the children. It was a day I went all out to buy him a gift. The one thing he loved was watches, so every birthday he got one. Whilst he was alive, he told me during one of our chats that he would like to celebrate his birthday yearly with a round table which he started on his 69th birthday. Last year, since he was no longer around to host the birthday round-table event, I decided to host it in his honour. So, I swung into action with so much excitement in preparation and everything went so smoothly.
A day to the event, I went to do some last minute checks at the venue. I did not know when I started to cry again. It was emotional for me because we had planned to celebrate his 71st birthday in that same venue. On the D-day, I woke up, went to his tomb and I started to cry. It was his day and he wasn’t even there to celebrate with us. I was devastated. I looked forward to this day and there I was, crying uncontrollably at his tomb. What was the point of throwing a celebration without him? I could not believe that I would not get to celebrate him the usual way. What else can you give to a man that has given you everything in life; love, comfort, selflessness, support, strength, courage? I can go on and on. Biola allowed me to be me. He made me the woman I am today and brought out the best in me, he gave me wings to fly. What then was the point, I thought to myself as I cried. One of our aides found me there and pleaded with me to leave the tomb to go get ready for the event.
The event turned out greatly. In fact, better than I expected. I was proud of myself. I knew Biola would be proud of me too. I cannot thank God enough for the strength He gave me this period. God stayed with me, even when I was angry with Him for taking Biola away and not answering my prayers to bring him back, God stayed with me. He worked on me and walked me through the valley of the shadow of death and in the end, led me right back into green pastures.
After the birthday celebration came Christmas. Another nudge in the reality that things will never be the same without him. My husband was a Muslim, while I am a Christian. He would say “my wife is a Christian, so Christmas must always be special.” Our different religions was never a problem for us as a couple and a family. We celebrated every religious holiday and programs together. For Christmas, my husband would go all out for me. Every Christmas, we travelled to Lagos to celebrate with our children. We did it for over 18 years. Biola did not see the travelling as stressful or trivial. He was a selfless father and husband. He handled everything from decorating the Christmas tree to ordering of cake and food. He would say “it’s your celebration, so no stress for you, Flory.” He would then shower me with gifts.
Christmas in 2020 was nothing like it had always been for us. The entire family planned a trip to Dubai for the holiday, hoping it would make me happy but it didn’t. It was a very sad Christmas for me. Every 31st of December, he would drop me at church for the New Year’s Eve service, go back home to say his prayers and pick me once I’m ready. On the 1st of January, he would send wishes, prayers, and admonitions for the New Year. He did this consistently for 40 years. This year, I didn’t get anything from him…no wishes, no prayers, no words of affection, no words of advice…nothing.
I love my children. They are the very essence of my life. Though the vacuum Biola left in my heart cannot be filled by them, they remain the greatest blessings God has given me.
I still have problems with my sleep pattern. One day I woke up and reminded myself that all my tears have not brought him back, so I have to live with the reality of my pain and misery. I began to identify the places and events that trigger my emotions and learnt how to manage them. This actually helped lessen the intensity of my feelings as I have come to the conclusion that my heart can never heal, it is a life-time process.
It’s being hard coping with people who actually mean well, but do not know how to act around me. Some of them avoid mentioning my husband’s name or even talking about him. I find it funny though because he is all I want to talk about all day. If only they knew that unlike them, I don’t want to pretend he never existed. I want to talk about him. I want to relive his memories with family and friends.
Some of them even say “you have to move on.” I won’t lie that it has been easy to ‘move on’, as a lot of people have advised or would expect. He IS the love of my life, moving on won’t be a walk in the park for me, but I am willing to take things one day at a time. When I visit our home in Ibadan, it has become a routine for me to sit by his tomb and take my early morning coffee. The fact that I know he is there with me makes me happy and I plan to relish these moments.
So, now, I wake up every morning, write a piece about him, watch videos of him and then talk a lot about him (to those who care to listen and can’t complain that I bore them). Doing these things have become therapy for me.
April 5th is another special day in my home. It is my birthday! My dear Biola would go all out to make me feel special every year. This year, I could not spend the day in our home so I travelled out to be alone and soak myself in my pain and sorrow. Two of my daughters flew in to surprise me where I was and cheer me up. It was a nice gesture that I appreciate but believe me it all meant nothing to me, I was just lost in my pain. The fact remains that a part of me is gone.
Socializing became a problem. I just couldn’t go out or visit friends that have been there for me over these trying months. Rather than say NO to going out all the time, I tried visiting my daughters which I had not also done in months. I attended about 3 events and made them know that I would want to leave early. I am not used to going to events without my husband.
Sometimes, the feeling of grief is so painful that I feel overwhelmed. I find it so hard to see meaning or purpose in my life, and want to find a way to make it stop. I feel I can’t cope with the intensity of my grief and pain anymore.
In May, I decided to go away to be alone and gather myself together as I felt I was not coping and could not continue wanting everyone around me to be sad because I am sad. I was very angry each time my children were celebrating either their birthday, their spouses’ or that of their children, I just didn’t get it. So off I went and honestly by the time I returned, I was a better person. Healing did not take place but a better way of learning to live alone and live with my pain was identified.
Usually when I return from trips, especially abroad, as soon as the plane touches ground, Biola would call me to say “thank God you have landed.” Next few minute, he would call again to ask “are you on the express?” By the time I get home, he would have instructed the people at home to prepare my favourite dish and have the table all set. I would then get another call asking “hope the food is fine”.
When I step into our room, he would have made the room look special and inscribe a message on the bed, “welcome home Flory, I missed you.” I got back to Nigeria from my May trip this year, there was no expectation. No one to pamper me like Biola did. I told myself “you are all alone, so get it”.
When we had arguments, which is typical of any couple, Biola was always the larger person whilst I remained the ‘baby’ and he was quick to tell me “Flory, we have no one else but ourselves, let’s talk it over.” He would tell me “angels don’t live on earth and I’m not one and would definitely make mistakes.” But he was my Angel and will always be my Angel.
Sometimes, I believe I am reading a story and just going through a bad chapter but I thank God for making me stand today. Each sunrise is a victory for me. The journey has been the most painful and traumatic that I could never have imagined that I’d still be here. My husband and I thought we could never live without each other. I am still so pained and sad, I cannot understand how I got to where I am even after one year. But I am still here.
For the sake of my children and family I have to be strong. As long as life and memories last, Abiola my best friend, ever smiling lover, husband, soulmate, gist partner and teacher will forever live in my heart.
Biola, till death do us part isn’t long enough. To say I miss you is an understatement as my heart is still so sore from losing you. I love you much more in death and forever will.
Despite everything, I surrender to God and acknowledge that He is SOVEREIGN.
Florence Ajimobi, is the wife of the Late Former Governor Abiola Ajimobi. This piece was published on her personal blog.
Opinion
Beyond Deportations: What South Africa’s Immigration Crisis Reveals About Nationhood and Economic Frustration
Published
7 days agoon
July 9, 2026By
Mega IconThe 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
Opinion
An Open Letter to Northern Leaders: Arewa Is Bleeding. Who Will Answer the Call?
Published
1 week agoon
July 7, 2026By
Mega IconI 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.
Opinion
2027: Why Oyo APC Should Close Ranks Behind Sarafadeen Alli | By Adeniyi Olowofela
Published
2 weeks agoon
July 4, 2026By
Mega IconSince 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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