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The Ikoyi high-rise rubble

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The Ikoyi skyscraper tragedy has more than its 21 fatal floors. It is like wood falling on wood; and more wood falling on wood; a tangled narrative woven by fate and circumstances. The building came down in style: a very huge structure collapsing on itself in a matter of seconds. It wasn’t an implosion and it was not an explosion. It just got tired of standing and fell on its bottom. What force failed the feet of the building and what was the impact of the fall on its immediate neighbours, including its two sister high-rise buildings?

If this happened in black man’s ancient times, the skyline crash would be blamed on thunder and its celts of precision fire. But this is the year of our Lord 2021, the divining priests are different. That is why, I, a stark illiterate in architecture and engineering matters, will be asking unschooled questions. I start from the first pictures of what remains of the Ikoyi building. Look at them. I see a huge pile of sliced concrete – I wanted to say sliced bread, almost neatly packed, but no; this is death. Is that how they fall – and sit- like a tired mountain of serrated rocks?

Lagos and its leaders are habitual newsmakers; they are a stubborn riddle. The headline last year was about the Lekki Toll Gate; this time, it is about an Ikoyi skyscraper that crashed. Those in the news last year are in this news again. I read Dele Momodu and his Pendulum two days ago. He described the tragedy as a jigsaw. In the good old jigsaw puzzle, the game starts when a picture is cut up into odd shapes. You get back that your picture -and win- only if you can correctly piece together the pieces. We have a complex case on our hands. The Ikoyi free fall has more than 21 levels of tragedy. At the very base are the raw wounds of personal losses; in the middle is the question of what went wrong; occupying the upper floors are bolts of the intriguing politics of who benefits from this misfortune. You’ve seen statements and exhumation of long buried videos; you’ve heard allegations and denials and threats; you’ve read of a fierce Berlin scramble for the assets of the unburied dead; we’ve also seen complementary visits by the government of Lagos and by the owners of Lagos. The fall is as huge as its elephantine benefits; every knife of imaginable curves is out, carving pounds of political capital.

There is a panel of inquiry charged with answering all questions connected with this tragedy. What will it find? The ones before this one, what were the fruits of their labour? The government said the developer got approval for 15 floors but jerked the building up to 21. That was an addition of six floors! And were those additional floors built in a day? Where was the law when the money-man rewrote the approval in his own image? Now, when buildings collapse, who do we blame? The owner? The builder? The construction workers? The regulators? Or all? I I think the last option is the correct answer. Did the Ikoyi building give any warning signs that were ignored? We do not know and may never know. It is a jigsaw, a puzzle. Every star you’ve seen in the skies of that place was involved in the making of that horror. But the living among them are exhaling relief sighs because so much has died with the dead in that mound.

Dele Momodu said the developer wanted his own residence in that particular tower. What he was building was a condominium, not a death-house. The man was not known to be tired of living and so could not have built for himself a fatal trap by cutting corners. He was also neither an investor in suicidal terrorism nor a self-killing Samson fulfilling a morbid divine purpose. Now, did the man put his trust too much in the expertise of his specialists, ignoring fatal fissures and crevices? If he didn’t trust the foundation of his dream, the super and sub-structures, would he be caught taking his lords, spiritual and temporal, on a triumphal tour of the floors? What really happened? We saw a showy video of some white wizards of construction. Were the white men in the building when it fell? If they weren’t, where were they? We saw another video of praise and worship, of prayers and electrifying songs of victory over the enemy. Who was that enemy?

How long are buildings, especially tall ones, destined to stand? Zaria Gorvett of the BBC answered a similar question in August 2016.

Gorvett said “Egypt’s pyramids were the skyscrapers of their day – and they are still standing 5,000 years later.” So, what brought down that 21-floor building in our Lagos before its full moon? That is the question to ask and for which we must get the correct answer(s) if there won’t be another crash. Everyone knows that vultures forever hover over Lagos lands. For this one and its precious ruins, hawks and vultures appear fighting already. Read the news. Going forward, we will see the horrors clearly by the time ‘widow’ inheritors take over. Greek biographer and historian, Plutarch, recorded the feat of a man called Crassus. The man was famed as Rome’s wealthiest man of the first century BCE. Rome of that era was always on fire but it had no fire service. Crassus saw business here and proceeded to build a vast empire of riches from the mass misery of victims of fire disasters. Was he involved in the fire breakouts?

History is silent on this but check out how he acquired his vast fortune: “Crassus or his agents would, on the spot, purchase buildings that were still ablaze and the buildings abutting the flaming structure at a fraction of the buildings’ worth. Once the deal had been concluded, Crassus’s personal fire brigade would step in and seek to halt the damage…” (See ‘The Great Fire of Rome: Life and Death in the Ancient City’ By Joseph J. Walsh, at page 32). The Crassuses of Nigeria must be salivating over that Gerrad Road property already. Sadly, we may not hear a whimper after they are done ringing their bells.

History pays a generous attention to disasters and whatever may have caused them. It assumes that man would read and sweat to prevent a silly repeat of what was bad and destructive. But is it in the nature of man to learn? Like a massive stroke, something snapped in that Ikoyi building and levelled the rich and the poor. Was there any sign of an impending crash? We think disasters are thieves in the night; that they very rarely whistle their coming. We think tragedies usually come crashing in to laugh at the folly of wise men. There was the mythical Tower of Babel, an audacious attempt to “take the celestial kingdom, piling mountains up to the stars.” What crashed it? Was it the fault of man or the force of God that fractured and crashed the lofty house?

Beyond myths, there have been many disastrous crashes that claimed lives and sealed fates because of the greed of man. One such bad story happened in Rome in 27 CE. Historian William Slater said “as destructive as a major war, it began and ended in a moment.” The tragedy of Fidenae theatre – that is the incident. Its casualties were so many that imperial Rome never forgot the calamity. Slater said the builder, one Atilius, an ex-slave, wanted an amphitheater of outstanding stature, but he “neither rested its foundations on solid ground nor fastened the superstructure securely.” Motives matter in what we build and how we build it. In this case, Atilius, as recorded in history “had undertaken the project not because of great wealth or municipal ambition but for sordid profits.” He completed the construction and threw it open “to host gladiatorial spectacles.” Then, Slater wrote, thousands flocked the stadium “—men and women of all ages.” Sorrow, tears and blood visited the stadium almost immediately. Slater, the historian, puts the tragedy elegantly in this narration: “The packed structure collapsed, subsiding both inwards and outwards and precipitating or overwhelming a huge crowd of spectators and bystanders. Those killed at the outset of the catastrophe at least escaped torture, as far as their violent deaths permitted. More pitiable were those, mangled but not yet dead, who knew their wives and children lay there too. In daytime they could see them, and at night they heard their screams and moans. The news attracted crowds, lamenting kinsmen, brothers, and fathers.

Even those whose friends and relations had gone away on other business were alarmed, for while the casualties remained unidentified, uncertainty gave free range for anxieties. When the ruins began to be cleared, people reached to embrace and kiss the corpses—and even quarrelled over them, when features were unrecognizable but similarities of physique or age had caused wrong identifications. Fifty thousand people were mutilated or crushed to death in the disaster.” Ancient Rome blamed Atilius, the owner/builder of the amphitheater; history blames him too. But should he solely carry the burden of guilt?

Some works should represent the ethical immanence of God. The construction industry is one. Regulators and building specialists, workmen and artisans have people’s lives right there in the cusps of their palms. They will go to hell whose greed cracks roads and crashes buildings and kills people. Steve Jobs has an interesting viewpoint here. He warned that “your work is going to fill a large part of your life,” and “the only way to be truly satisfied is to do great work.” What then is great work? It is work that endures.

A jigsaw tragedy is what we have in Ikoyi, Lagos. Ghostly questions stomp that eerie place demanding answers. Will they ever get justice? Men and machine have been busy on that plate of fate since last Monday. They are still there, roaring round the rubble like lions in search of lost cubs. How do we piece together life and its meaning from this pile of death and tears?

The man who built the failed skyscraper was its ‘inmate’ when it crashed. It was his labour room; he went in there very expectant of joy in bouncing bundles. But he was brought out dead, his pot and its precious water got lost in the debris of death. And it wasn’t as if the man was a daily face there. Yet, the crash waited and chose his very presence to end everything, including the dreamer. I have heard questions on how and where the man got his billions. We’ve heard and read other stories and the stories of others. We’ve heard repeated shouts of horror, the sighs of receding hope and thunder claps of escape. A job seeker failed to get what he sought there; he left that spot sad and crest-fallen. He soon had cause to thank his God for making him fail. ‘Blessings of Failure’ won’t be a bad title for his memoirs.

One youth corps member flew off the killing field of North East Nigeria; she landed on the velvet laps of Lagos and sadly died at the safe harbour of Ikoyi. There is a word called fate, inscrutable is its sole adjective. The white man calls it destiny; the Yoruba say it is Ayanmo. There is no armour against its darts. It is the handcuff which chains man to where his portion lays. May God heal the wounded and repose the souls of the dead.

 

Celebrated columnist, Lasisi Olagunju, writes  from Ibadan, Oyo state 

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Opinion

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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Opinion

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

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

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

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

Arewa Under Siege

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

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

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

Beyond Insecurity: A Crisis of Leadership

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

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

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

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

Where Are the Northern Elite?

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

Why does this gap persist?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Responsibility of Business Leaders

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Message to Political Leaders

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

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

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

A Message to the Educated and Professional Class

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

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

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

A Message to Cultural Influencers

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

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

A Shared Responsibility

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

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

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

Who speaks? Who benefits? Who bears the cost?

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The surest path to success is unity.

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

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

 

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

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