Nigerian politicians are a funny lot who have perfected the inelegant art of majoring in minor things, which explains why, at a time like this when the country is at a socio-economic and political crossroads, the House of Representatives is going around chasing rats while the house – Nigeria – is on fire.

Their puerile antics reminds me of the July 13, 2000 book, “This House Has Fallen: Midnight in Nigeria,” by Karl Maier which chronicled the problems threatening Nigeria’s existence. “We… ignore Nigeria at our peril,” Maier, a London Independent correspondent stationed in Africa for more than a decade, admonished the world. Sadly, 25 years thence, those problems are not only still prevalent but have, indeed, become metastatic cancer.

And so, rather than address Nigeria’s existential threats, the National Assembly is chasing shadows, wasting scarce resources on frivolities that neither add value to Nigerians nor promote good governance.

On May 15, a bill seeking to amend the Electoral Act 2022 to make voting compulsory scaled second reading in the House of Representatives. First introduced in February by Speaker Tajudeen Abbas, the proposed legislation, which has been referred to the House Committee on Electoral Matters for further legislative action, includes a provision for a maximum penalty of six months’ imprisonment or a fine of up to N100,000 for failure to vote during elections as an antidote to low voter turnout, which Abbas claimed undermines democratic institutions.

It is harebrained to think that making voting a legal obligation will promote public accountability. To be sure, Nigeria’s electoral democracy is imperiled and Nigerians’ enthusiasm has waned significantly. Since return to democracy in 1999, voter turnout has progressively plummeted, reaching its lowest point in 2023 with only 26.72 percent voter turnout. Out of the total 93.47 million registered voters, only 24.9 million voted in the Presidential and National Assembly elections, representing one in four registered voters. That was an 8.03 percent decline compared to the voter turnout of 34.74 percent in 2019.

Even in 1999 when enthusiasm ought to be at its lowest ebb given the fact that the military had taken Nigerians for a ride for too long and many were not convinced that they had truly turned the corner even with the death of General Sani Abacha, 29.8 million Nigerians voted in the presidential election that ushered in President Olusegun Obasanjo. Yet, 24 years after, only 24 million voted, representing a drop of 5.8 million.

The highest turnout was in 2003 when 39 million people — representing 69.08 percent of registered voters — cast their ballots. Since then, the percentage turnout has been on a downward spiral: 57.54 per cent in 2007, 53.68 per cent in 2011, 43.65 per cent in 2015 and 34.75 per cent in 2019. The absolute numbers rose from 35.4 million in 2007 to 38.2 million in 2011 but have been dropping since then: 28.6 million in 2015, 27.3 million in 2019 and 24 million in 2023.

So, there is clearly an issue that should worry every well-meaning Nigerian. But any altruistic effort to address the problem must start with answering the all-important question: what went wrong? How is it that a people who waged an existential battle against the military to usher in democracy have suddenly become lethargic?

Truth be told, the people have lost confidence in the potency of the ballot. Why should anyone bother to vote when the votes don’t count? What incentive is there for anyone to risk going out to vote in an environment where electoral officials and citizens are killed or kidnapped by thugs and where politicians make the environment for elections a war theatre with voter suppression and violence being the hallmark of political astuteness?

Indubitably, addressing low voter turnout is crucial to strengthening the quality and substance of democracy but it will be tantamount to putting the cart before the horse if the causative factors driving voter apathy – insecurity, electoral violence, voter suppression, lack of trust in the election management body and poor governance – are not addressed first. Twenty-six years after the return of democracy, rather than strengthening and deepening it, politicians are busy dismantling its guardrails with reckless abandon.

So why would any Nigerian bother to vote when the votes won’t count? The voter is shortchanged at every stage. At the polling booth, he is bullied and humiliated and even when he manages to vote, the umpire announces results quite at variance with the votes cast. As if that is not bad enough, at the end, the courts, not the votes of the electorate, decide who gets elected, a process Professor Chidi Odinkalu, former chairman of the National Human Rights Commission, NHRC, calls “judicial selectorate.” And few months after, elected officials whimsically trade off their party’s mandates as was the case in Delta State and the legion of lawmakers joining the ruling All Progressives Congress, APC, with very scant regard to the political parties that propelled them into office.

Ultimately, the idea of democracy is to promote common good and the primary function of government is to ensure the safety and well-being of its citizens. Nigerians are seeing little or no democracy dividends – political, economic, social and legal. So what incentive is there to vote in 2027?

It is obvious that the National Assembly is on a wild goose chase, a voyage of mischief with this vexatious bill which flies in the face of reason and law, a point which the Nigerian Bar Association eloquently made last Tuesday when it dismissed the effort as unconstitutional and draconian and a blatant violation of civil liberties and democratic principles.

“In a democracy, voting is a civil liberty, not a legal obligation. Compelling citizens to vote through coercive measures infringes on their fundamental rights,” the NBA said in a statement by its President, Afam Osigwe. “Compelling individuals to vote, regardless of their faith in the electoral process or the choices available, violates their personal convictions and political freedoms… Democracy thrives on consent, participation, and trust, not coercion. Forcing citizens to vote under threat of imprisonment undermines the essence of free and fair elections,” the group further said.

Speaker Abbas and his co-travellers know that the quickest way to solve the problem of voter apathy is to give the people a reason to believe by addressing the evils of electoral violence, outright rigging and ‘go to court’ ridicule, not by criminalising non-participation in an electoral process plagued by mistrust, insecurity and systemic flaws, because to do so will amount to double jeopardy for the longsuffering and much abused electorate. As NBA rightly noted, “Nigeria’s democracy requires trust, transparency, accountability, and inclusive reform.”

By attempting to criminalise voter apathy, Speaker Tajudeen Abbas is being smart by half. It is not an act borne out of altruism or originating from concern for common good, independently of personal benefit. Instead, it is a cold political calculation with the ultimate goal of legitimising fraud. He knows that low voter turn out robs those in authority legitimacy. President Bola Tinubu garnered only 8,794,726 votes, a fraction of the 93.47 million registered voters, and only 37 percent of the 24.9 million that actually voted. He has no national mandate to govern, which explains the legitimacy crisis that has dogged his administration in the last two years.

This is the malady that Abbas wants to cure with this bill. To be sure, he is not interested in credible, free and fair polls in 2027. If anything, the 2027 elections will be worse than 2023. After all, voters from a section of the country have been warned beforehand not to bother coming out to vote on Election Day in some parts of the country unless they will vote for particular political tendencies. It will be a miracle if the voter turnout in 2027 exceeds 15 percent unless consequential steps are taken to restore the integrity of the electoral system. Abbas knows that he and his colleagues are doing nothing to fix the country’s broken electoral process. So, the idea of the bill is to cajole Nigerians to vote so that the weak mandate stigma will be circumvented.

But it won’t be as easy as he thinks. If he insists on making a law that will make voting a legal obligation, he should also strive to make law(s) before the 2027 elections that will make the votes count. If not, the Tinubu government should build more prisons to accommodate the millions of otherwise eligible voters, including my humble self, who have decided to become conscientious objectors in 2027.

Peter Obi, former Labour Party presidential candidate, has denied the report that he travelled to Rome to meet President Bola Tinubu over an alleged ₦225 billion debt linked to Fidelity Bank.

In a statement released on Thursday, Obi said the report is part of a blackmail campaign aimed at damaging his reputation.

“It’s obvious that the biggest business for blackmailers now is talking about Peter Obi from every negative perspective.” He said, “Even my solemn spiritual trip to Rome has been twisted into yet another blackmail campaign by merchants paid ostensibly to propagate anything negative against Obi.”

A media report recently alleged that Obi met secretly with Tinubu in Rome to plead for intervention in a purported financial scandal involving Fidelity Bank, where he served as a board member.

However, the former Governor of Anambra State categorically denied ever requesting or holding a private meeting with the president on account of any bank.

“I have never sought an audience with, nor met, President Tinubu since he assumed office, except about 1 minute meeting at the arena of Saint Peter’s Basilica Rome during the inauguration Mass of Pope Leo XIV, where I was seated behind, and had to respectfully greet him, and other dignitaries present,” he said.

Obi also cleared the air on his relationship with Fidelity Bank, saying he does not own the bank.

He said, “The self-proclaimed “blackmailer-in-chief” and others who thrive on spreading pain and falsehoods have also claimed that I own Fidelity Bank. For the record, I do not. Throughout my career, I have served as Chairman/Director of 3 banks/Financial institutions, of which Fidelity is one of them. Fidelity has over 500,000 shareholders, none of whom hold a majority stake. What this blackmailer seeks is to harm these hard-working Nigerians and cause them needless distress.”

Vanguard News

In an era when a single manipulated image can ricochet around the globe in seconds, our collective grasp on reality teeters dangerously on the brink. The media office of former Anambra State governor and Labour Party presidential candidate, Mr. Peter Obi, this week dismissed as “clearly photoshopped” the photographs circulating on social media that purported to show him kneeling before President Bola Ahmed Tinubu at a Vatican ceremony graced by the Pope’s moral authority.

According to Mr. Obi’s Media Adviser, Mr. Valentine Obienyem, these doctored images are “not reflective of the actual proceedings at the solemn occasion attended by global dignitaries” and would have “made the front pages of major newspapers” had they been real. That no credible outlet reported such a spectacle, Obienyem noted, speaks volumes about the lengths to which political mischief–makers will go to bend public perception to their will.

This latest affront is but the tip of a swelling iceberg: Nigeria today is drowning in a tsunami of fake news, filter-bubbled rants, and recycled rumors masquerading as fact. From the bogus “death” of Nollywood icons to fraudulent videos designed to inflame ethnic tensions, we’ve grown jaded, and dangerously complacent, about verifying what we consume. Yet beneath the surface of this chaos lies a simple truth elucidated by Source Credibility Theory: if the messenger is suspect, so too is the message. And in our Twitter-obsessed, like-driven world, we have surrendered our right to question not just the content of a story, but the very credentials of its originator.

To clearly understand the foregoing situation, it is germane I recount that years ago, long before I fully grasped the media industry’s nuances, I found myself in the corporate trenches delivering “news” of a prominent Nigerian politician’s death. My boss, the very picture of seasoned detachment, leaned back, arched a single eyebrow, and crooned, “Which newspaper reported it?” When I named the outlet, he snorted and waved the rumor away. “Forget it. It is fake.”

At the time, his flippancy stung. Was I so naïve as to believe every headline? Yet as I transitioned into journalism, I realized his skepticism was not borne of cynicism but of wisdom: information is only as valuable as its source. His instinctive application of what scholars call the Source Credibility Theory in Mass Communication would have made him a star pupil in any journalism school.

At its core, Source Credibility Theory argues that a message’s persuasive power is directly proportional to how trustworthy and expert its originator appears. Trustworthiness gauges perceived honesty and integrity; expertise measures knowledge and competence. Together, these twin pillars dictate whether an audience will accept, or reject, a claim.

Mainstream Nigerian dailies such as The Guardian, Punch, and ThisDay once, or still, command high scores on both counts. They painstakingly buttress each report with multiple sources, fact-checkers, and editorial oversight. Their hard-won reputations lend weight to every headline, strengthening democracy through informed debate. But today, the rise of digital influencers, amateur gossip blogs, and hyper-partisan WhatsApp chains has turned that paradigm on its head. Reach has eclipsed reliability; virality trumps veracity.

Every smartphone is now a de facto newsroom. Every social media user a self-declared journalist. The only qualification needed to break “news” is a large follower count, and a flair for the dramatic. Fact-checking? Optional. Attribution? Overrated.

This shift has unleashed a maelstrom of fake death announcements (remember Ngozi Ezeonu? Olu Jacobs?), conspiracy videos, and clickbait meant to enrage, not enlighten. Ned Nwoko, the politician-businessman, has had to publicly debunk false reports of his demise, twice.

Back to Peter Obi, an image claiming to show him meeting the Pope might as well have had a watermark from the “Emperor’s New Clothes” for all the truth it bore. Yet such doctored visuals spread faster than any correction could catch up.

Meanwhile, audiences judge credibility not by scrutinizing sources but by how an item makes them feel. Emotional resonance, confirmation bias, and the illusory-truth effect ensure that the more we see a lie repeated, the more we believe it, even if it originated from an anonymous handle with zero track record.

The Vatican incident crystallizes this crisis. A solemn gathering, featuring the spiritual leader of 1.3 billion Catholics, is reduced to a political stunt by opportunists wielding Photoshop as their paintbrush. Mr. Obienyem’s statement underscores three sobering realities:

1. “Silence Speaks”: “If such an event had occurred, it would doubtless have made the front pages of major newspapers.” The absence of mainstream coverage is, in itself, evidence.

2. “Procedural Protocol”: Pope Francis “extended personal greetings only to Heads of State, their official representatives, and members of the diplomatic corps”, a category not inclusive of Mr. Obi.

3. “Selective Targeting”: Of all Nigerian attendees, only Mr. Obi was slapped into the political crosshairs, a sign of malice, not accident.

This is not a mere prank. It is a calculated effort to redirect attention from the Pope’s real message, justice, peace, and care for the poor, and ethical leadership, toward specious clickbait that serves no purpose but to inflame partisan passions.

We are complicit in our own deception. We no longer pause before retweeting a fiery headline; we do not pause to check if the handle belongs to a reputable journalist or a newly-created sock puppet. The default assumption is: social media = truth. This blind faith undermines both the Source Credibility Theory and the very function of a democratic press.

Confirmation bias only deepens the wound, as we gravitate toward stories that validate our worldviews, regardless of their factual footing. In a country as ethnically and politically polarized as Nigeria, such bias becomes a weapon of mass distraction, one that drowns out serious discourse and corrodes civic trust.

If Nigeria is to stem the tide of fake news, we must re-embed Source Credibility Theory at the heart of our information ecosystem:

In fact, from primary schools to churches, it should be expedient to teach Nigerians to interrogate sources like they would inspect medicine labels. Who is speaking? What are their credentials? Have they cited evidence?

In a similar vein, legacy media must beef up their verification teams and publicly shame purveyors of fake content. Organizations like Dubawa and Africa Check need more funding, and higher profiles.

Also in a similar vein, social networks must be compelled to filter out manipulated media and penalize repeat offenders. Algorithms optimized for engagement should be recalibrated for accuracy.

In fact, the state can play a role without trampling press freedom. Legislation against malicious misinformation should target intent and patterns of deception, not stifle legitimate critique.

Again, brands and NGOs must vet the platforms they sponsor. If money stops fueling fake-news mills, their incentives evaporate.

On our own parts, we should always bear it in mind that each of us bears a responsibility. Before forwarding “breaking news” on WhatsApp, ask: “Who originated this? Have I seen it elsewhere? Could it be manipulated?”

My former boss never read Hovland and Weiss, yet he instinctively applied the lessons of Source Credibility Theory. He knew that the merit of any claim flows from the integrity of its messenger. Today, as a journalist, I stand alarmed at how easily our collective guard has been lowered. If we continue to elevate sensationalism over substance, amplify Photoshopped stooges over seasoned reporters, and reward clicks over credibility, then Nigeria’s democratic prospects will be undone by our own blindness.

In a world awash with “pixels of deceit,” we must reclaim the bedrock principle that trust and expertise matter. We must champion truth over tactics, ethics over expedience. Otherwise, we risk becoming a nation guided by the loudest liars rather than the most reliable sources, and in such a nation, democracy, development, and dignity will be the first casualties.

My daughter, Ifeoluwa, called on Monday to ask why I was in Jos. I explained that I had been appointed as a member of a fact-finding committee on the incessant attacks on communities in Plateau State and the inauguration was scheduled for the next day. She replied, “you have a way of getting yourself involved in all these strange assignments.” Those words echoed in my mind on Tuesday when, inaugurating the panel, Governor Caleb Mutfwang mandated us “to conduct an in-depth assessment of the persistent security breaches, understand the root causes, and propose actionable recommendations for lasting peace, justice, and stability in affected communities” in Plateau State.

My daughter is right. I don’t know what can be stranger than being asked to proffer solutions to the ethno-religious killings that have claimed thousands of lives over a period of more than three decades. But I am in good company here. Our chairman, Major General Nicholas Rogers (Rtd)had commanded ‘Operation Lafiya Dole’ against Boko Haram/ISWAP terrorists in the Northeastern part of the country and ‘Operation Safe Haven’ in the same Plateau State. Having also served in the United Nations African Mission in Darfur among other assignments, he understands the nature of the crisis we are facing. Another member, AVM Ibrahim Shafi’i (Rtd), also has extensive experience in such matters given his military service and current legal practice. And then we have Jonathan Kure, a retired deputy Director General of the State Security Service (SSS) who once served in Plateau and Lawan Usman Safana, a retired Assistant Director General and former SSS State Director in Plateau State.

Other members of our panel include Yakubu Bawa, a Jos-based legal practitioner, Esther Lolo, a retired Judge of the Kaduna State High Court, Gad Shamaki, a civil society activist and Amina Elelu-Ahmed, a former Director of Legal Service at the National Orientation Agency (NOA). Our Secretary, Timothy Parlong, a legal practitioner and retired permanent secretary in the state civil service, has institutional memories, having served in some of the previous committees on the never-ending crises. Parlong happens to be the only indigene of Plateau State on our panel, which the governor said he carefully selected to demonstrate transparency on the issue.

By our mandate, we are expected to establish the number of communities that have been attacked and the approximate number of casualties from 2005 to date; establish the identities of persons who perpetrated the attacks and their possible motives and sponsors; and identify possible routes for bandits into the state and recommend measures to limit their access. We are also to recommend appropriate succour to identified victims and communities and suggest how to stop further occurrences. Though we are expected to engage with community leaders, victims, security agencies, and other relevant stakeholders across the state, we have just two months to complete our assignment!

Before the defining violence of 2001, the reprisal attacks of 2004 and the subsequent ones in recent years under the current democratic dispensation, there were similar violent eruptions under the military. In 1992, we witnessed the Mwaghavul communal crisis in Mangu local government area which recurred in 1995. In 1994, there was the famous ‘Jos Riot’ and in 1997, there were clashes in Lakushi and Sabon Layi in Langtang local government. The consistent pattern in all these crises, resulting in the loss of thousands of lives, is that victims appear to wait to plot their revenge. Hence, one cycle of killings inevitably leads to another.

Indeed, the gravity of our assignment hit me last Friday when I was with Sunday Dare, Special Adviser to the President on Media and Information. Although he did not discourage me, I could deduce from his comments that attempting to seek enduring peace in Plateau State is an uphill task, to put it mildly. A journalist of repute who served as Minister of Youth and Sports under President Muhammadu Buhari, Dare was born and raised in Jos which his family knew as home. But 16 years ago, in December 2009, Dare lost a number of those family members in a gruesome manner. “My only elder brother was hacked down with knives and machete and left to burn” along with their house, Dare recounted in January 2010, following that bout of violence. A year earlier, “precisely November 2008, my immediate junior sister’s husband was burnt down in his house while trying to escape after helping his family to safety. The 10-bedroom family duplex of my in-laws was razed to the ground,” Dare wrote in his recollection. “Two of my childhood friends were knifed to death in the open streets. The three days of reporting for the Voice of America that I spent in Jos after the November 2008 riots were scary. I saw a war zone with survivors walking around like zombies.”

Like most tragic occurrences across the country, there have been numerous panels of inquiry regarding the killings in Plateau State. Governor Mutfwang said as much on Tuesday both at the official inauguration and our private session that followed. He told us we were carefully chosen to reflect the diversity of Jos which is “mini-Nigeria” – a city in which many foreigners have also settled for decades and call their home. “There have been many inquiries in the past. I can assure you that by the time you do that sitting (a public hearing), every critical stakeholder to your assignment will be present,” the governor assured us. “We want to get to the root of these problems and resolve them.”

From the Bola Ajibola Judicial Commission of Inquiry (2009) to the Niki Tobi Judicial Commission of Inquiry (2002), there have indeed been many reports. But I understand why Mutfwang set 2005 as baseline for our assignment. A similar committee chaired by Mr Thomas Kagnaan had revisited the violence between 2001 and 2004 with its report submitted in October 2004. According to that report, 53,787 persons, comprising almost 19,000 men, more than 17,000 women and 17,000 children were killed during 32 months of tit-for-tat violence. The committee arrived at the figure after visiting affected communities where survivors listed the relations they had lost in the fighting between rival armed militia groups. No fewer than 280,000 people were forced to flee their homes, according to the report, with at least 25,000 houses razed to the ground and some 1,300 cattle slaughtered. That was 21 years ago, and several (and more violent) battles have been fought since then.

I have written dozens of columns on the violence that has reduced the people of Plateau State to little more than undertakers. My most recent, ‘When Will the Killings End?’ was published last September. In July 2023, barely six weeks after assuming office, President Bola Tinubu confronted this problem after a spate of killings. In a statement, ‘Plateau Killings: We Must Break this Cycle of Violence’, he expressed sadness and grief. “It is most unfortunate that in this orgy of violence, an innocent eight-month-old baby in Farin Lamba community of Vwang District, Jos South Local Government, died in a conflict she knew nothing about”, the president said. “A major consequence of perennial conflict is always the tragic loss of innocent lives.”

I agree with the president, but his administration should offer more than mere preachments that have become the defining response from the federal government over the years. It is also commendable that Mutfwang is determined to end the orgy of violence and bloodletting that has defined the state for decades. But other stakeholders, especially religious and traditional rulers, have larger roles to play. Fortunately, this assignment has given me the opportunity to engage some of them in the weeks ahead. And my message is this: With each side attempting to eliminate the other through what has become a bilateral genocide, to borrow a phrase coined in Rwanda, they must be prepared to end all appeals to hate and guilt by association.

As we drove to town from the airport on Tuesday, I beheld the luscious vegetation. And I wondered why we tend to waste all the resources bestowed upon our country by mother nature. That feeling came back yesterday morning when I decided on an outdoor walk in very cool weather one only gets to experience outside the shores of Nigeria. “Everybody knows that if you eat vegetables, there’s every likelihood that they came from the Plateau,” Mutfwang said on Tuesday while explaining why peace in his state is good for our country. “This is a state that can contribute significantly to Nigeria’s food security and in many respects, when it comes to farming potatoes, for example, you don’t have anywhere outside the Plateau.”

I am not under any illusion that our panel is guaranteed success considering that there had been so many such attempts in the past. The best approach, as Shafi’i counselled on Tuesday, is for each of us to keep an open mind. And that will be our guiding philosophy in this assignment. Perhaps I should conclude with my take two years ago after another round of what I described as a cycle of multilateral killings.

At the end of the day, all the contending parties in the violence must come to the sober realization that they have only been losing lives, wealth and their peace of mind. Their children are de-socialized due to religious and cultural teachings about the sanctity of life being cheerfully violated. A land that was once renowned as a haven of peace and agricultural productivity now exports only tales of man’s inhumanity to man. I hope that by the end of our assignment we can contribute to changing that narrative for an enduring peace in Plateau State.

Amaechi at 60

I first met Chibuike Rotimi Amaechi at the inauguration of the National Stakeholder Working Group (NWSG) of the Nigerian Extractive Industries Transparency Initiative (NEITI) by President Olusegun Obasanjo on 16th February 2004. Then Speaker of the Rivers State House of Assembly, Amaechi was the representative of Southern Speakers with then Gombe State Speaker representing his Northern colleagues. I had been nominated to represent the Nigerian media in the group chaired by Mrs Oby Ezekwesili. Amaechi has, of course, since progressed in his political career. He served eight years as Governor of Rivers State and eight years as Minister of Transportation under President Muhammadu Buhari. Meanwhile, I have kept reminding him in the last 21 years that a friend with political power and influence is a friend lost. But on a serious note, even his most implacable foes would concede one thing to Amaechi: What you see is what you get. As he therefore clocks 60 next Tuesday, I wish him long life and good health.

At a time when the whole country is rejoicing and proud of the fact that President Tinubu embarked on a two day trip to Rome to attend the inaugural Mass of the newly- installed Pope Leo X1V, Babachir Lawal, the former Secretary to the FG, has decribed his attendance as a "non-event" and alleged that it came about "as a consequence of the work of lobbyists".

I have always had immense respect for this man and considered him a friend but I am constrained to ask whether he has lost his senses?

He has refused to recognise the fact that, as I pointed out on X on the day our President went to Rome, that no Nigerian President has ever honored the Pope in this way and neither has any ever been given the honor by the Vatican to personally attend such an occassion.

The fact that President Tinubu went, even though he is a practising Muslim and not a Christian, speaks volumes for him and our nation and is an eloquent testimony to the fact that religious tolerance and harmony is alive and well in Nigeria and that even though we have a Muslim President and Muslim Vice President, the Christian community is being treated with the utmost respect.

I expected no less. Archbishop Kaigama of the Catholic Church commended President Tinubu for going to Rome as did millions of other Christians.

Does Babachir know better than them all? Who does he think he is?

Even though people like him had given the world the impression that Christians would suffer under this Government he has been proved wrong and the opposite is the case.

Under the Tinubu/Shettima Presidency the Christians of Nigeria have not only been treated equally and fairly but they have also been given pride of place which is far more that I can say happened under the Government that Babachir served.

Having a Christian Vice President is not the issue but rather having a President and a Vice President, regardless of their faith, that are ready to treat Christians and Muslims in a respecful and equitable manner.

When President Buhari was in power with his so-called Christian Vice President Professor Yemi Osinbajo, Christians were slaughtered like flies all over the North and every single operational head of each of our security outfits and arms of the military were Northern Muslims.

A Christian VP could not stop this shameful indignity and gratuitous insult against his fellow Christians from happening but under Tinubu and Shettima the aberration was remedied and the leadership of our Armed Forces and security outfits have been balanced in an equitable and all-inclusive manner.

In the light of this Babachir is the last person that should be complaining about insults to Christians and the first to repent of his obvious sins and seek prayers and deliverance from his bitterness, hate, resentment and anger.

He does not speak for the Christian community and he should keep his mouth shut and stop always trying to see and define matters of governance through a religious prism.

Finally his disrespectful and utterly absurd description of Vice President Kashim Shettima as a "flat spare tyre" the other day has not gone unnoticed.

I am not the VP's spokesman and I am aware that he is quite capable of fighting his own battles but surely Babachir, with his age and experience, would accept the fact that in attempting to subject the Vice President to ridicule he has only proved the fact that he is as asinine and uncouth as many had suspected.

If we are looking for "flat spare tyres" and I daresay "chicken-hearted ice cream sellers", Babachir should look towards the Vice President that he happily served and worked under and not Kashim Shettima who is doing an excellent job and supporting the President in a profound and eloquent manner.

Unlike the VP he served Kashim did not turn a blind eye, remain silent and hide under the bed when both Christians and Muslims were being slaughtered by terrorists without consequence under the previous regime.

Babachir can criticise the Government as much as he wants and no one is losing any sleep over it but he should stop doing so in the name of Christianity.

This is the greatest insult of all and he would be wise to desist lest he provokes a more robust response.

(FFK)

In the heat of the afternoon bustle in Ogba, Ikeja, a single voice pierced through the simmering air of frustration, rice steam, and boiling politics. Amid the clatter of plates and the sizzle of stew, a well-known restauranteur interrupted a political argument unfolding at his buka and thundered, “If na your papa dey there nko? You go dey sleep for house?”

The question, raw and honest, stopped everyone cold was not just a rhetorical jab. It was a reality check. And more than that, it was a social mirror, one held up to a nation that loves to criticize from the sidelines but would, if given the same opportunity, do exactly what it condemns.

The subject of the now-viral question? Sheyi Tinubu, son of Nigeria’s sitting president, Bola Ahmed Tinubu, a young man who has, over the past year, become a lightning rod for outrage, envy, and everything in between.

At this juncture, it is expedient to ask, “Who is Sheyi Tinubu and why Is everyone talking?” The foregoing question cannot be farfetched as Sheyi Tinubu is not a stranger to power. As the son of a political colossus who has now ascended to the highest office in Nigeria, Sheyi has always lived in a world of privilege. But since his father became president, Sheyi’s public profile has grown in ways many Nigerians find unsettling.

From attending official functions, with some Nigerians even accusing him of meddling in governance, his visibility has stirred resentment. People are asking, “Who elected Sheyi?”, “Why is he being given so much access?”, and “Why is he everywhere?”

And while these questions are not without merit, especially in a democracy that demands accountability, they are not always born from civic duty. Sometimes, they are born from envy, tribal bias, or deep-seated frustration at a country where opportunities seem sealed off for the masses.

That is what makes the restauranteur’s voice so profound. His question drips with realism, not idealism: If it were your own father, would not you do the same thing? Let us not pretend we would not.

Let us remove the mask. Most Nigerians, if they were to wake up tomorrow as the child of the president, would likely do what Sheyi Tinubu is doing or even worse. We know it. We have seen it.

We have seen people in government place their children in plum positions. We have seen nepotism take root in churches, companies, and family businesses. You get a job in the civil service and your first thought is how to fix your cousin. Your uncle becomes a local government chairman and suddenly your younger brother is the “Personal Assistant on Environment.” So why is Sheyi’s case different?

Because he is visible. Because the nation is angry. Because hunger is everywhere. Because salaries cannot buy a bag of rice. Because the masses are disillusioned. And when you are broke, hungry, and jobless, privilege feels like an insult.

But again, “If na your papa dey there nko?” The real problem is not Sheyi. It is the System. Let us get one thing straight: Sheyi Tinubu is not Nigeria’s problem. At least not the main one.

The problem is that our institutions are so weak that family members of politicians often step into unofficial roles of power without consequence. The problem is that proximity to the president in Nigeria grants unchecked access, influence, and control, no matter your official designation.

This should not be about Sheyi. It should be about the absence of boundaries between personal and state affairs.

In working democracies, presidents’ children are rarely seen at official events, and certainly not running government affairs behind the scenes. But Nigeria is not a fully matured democracy. It is a hybrid, somewhere between oligarchy and organized chaos, where institutions bent for personalities and power is passed down like family inheritance.

Aptly put, the hypocrisy in our anger is obvious enough. It is high time we admitted that a lot of our outrage is selective. We did not raise as much dust in the past political dispensations when children of politicians in various offices enjoyed perks of office. Many of us stayed silent when children of governors drove exotic cars in university campuses and flaunted wealth they clearly did not earn.

But we only find our voice when it is someone we do not support politically. That is not justice. That is partisanship. And it is hollow.

Besides, let us also be honest about our class warfare. Much of the anger towards Sheyi is not rooted in policy or fact, but emotion. Why him and not me? It is the pain of exclusion wrapped in fake moral outrage.

Against the backdrop of the foregoing view, it is germane we request for systems that work, not scapegoats. This is as dragging Sheyi Tinubu online daily might give some Nigerians a momentary sense of justice, but it would not change anything. The only way to stop the influence of unappointed individuals is to strengthen our institutions.

There should be clear rules about who can attend cabinet meetings. There should be transparency about appointments and decisions. If Sheyi is playing a role in government, let us demand to know what it is officially, and scrutinize it like we would any other political appointee. If he is not, then public appearances should not be confused with political interference.

In fact, when the structure is fixed, the individuals would not matter. Therefore, let us talk about the bigger picture At its core, this debate goes beyond Sheyi Tinubu. It touches the wound Nigerians do not want to talk about: the pain of exclusion.

The truth is, everyone wants to be “connected.” Everyone wants access. The same people dragging Sheyi online are praying for a phone call from a senator, a federal board appointment, or a political godfather.

That is the real tragedy of Nigeria, not Sheyi. The tragedy is a country where who you know matters more than what you know. Until that changes, there will always be another Sheyi, and another round of outrage.

At this conclusive juncture, it is not out of place to opine that the restaranteur was right. He may not have gone to Harvard. He may not write op-eds. But his one-liner carried more weight than most think-pieces ever could.

“If na your papa dey there nko?” It is not an endorsement of abuse of power. It is a challenge to all of us to stop pretending we are better than those we criticize. Let us demand better. Let us fix the system. Let us build a country where even the president’s child must follow due process.

Until then, before you cast the next stone, ask yourself: “If na my papa dey there nko?”

Despite being a fundamental principle of democracy, the doctrine of separation of powers appears to be under threat in Nigeria, as recent remarks by Senate President Godswill Akpabio suggest a troubling fusion of legislative and executive roles. This article explores how the National Assembly’s posture under Akpabio undermines Montesquieu’s vision, blurring the lines meant to prevent tyranny and preserve liberty.

When Charles-Louis de Secondat, Baron de La Brède et de Montesquieu, formulated the doctrine of the Separation of Powers in his seminal 1748 work, The Spirit of the Laws, it was intended as a safeguard against tyranny. By advocating for the division of government into three distinct branches, legislative, executive, and judicial, he proposed that liberty could only be preserved if each branch functioned independently and served as a check on the others.

Fast-forward to contemporary Nigeria under President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, and what we see playing out under the watch of Senate President Godswill Akpabio is the complete opposite of that ideal. The principles Montesquieu passionately laid out to prevent authoritarianism have not only been diluted, they have been brazenly turned on their head.

Senator Akpabio’s recent assertion that “lawmakers were not elected to confront the executive but to partner with it” is not only misguided but dangerous to the very foundation of democratic governance. His statement reflects a chilling truth about Nigeria’s current political reality: the walls between the arms of government have crumbled, and what remains is a unitary structure masquerading as a democracy.

Akpabio made the remarks in a documentary marking President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s two years in office, emphasizing legislative-executive collaboration and ongoing national reforms, according to a statement on Tuesday by Presidential Media Adviser Bayo Onanuga.

“When elected into the National Assembly, whether in the Senate or the House of Representatives, your constituents will not give you boxing gloves. It’s not a boxing tournament,” Akpabio said. “You are there to work in a bipartisan manner for the interest of Nigeria.”

To understand the gravity of Akpabio’s declaration, we must first acknowledge the constitutional role of the National Assembly. Under Nigeria’s 1999 Constitution (as amended), the legislature is empowered to check the executive, not massage its ego. It is the voice of the people, and its loyalty should rest with the electorate, not with the presidency.

Yet, Akpabio’s words and actions have continuously undermined this principle. His claim that “if you spend all your energy fighting the executive, who will work for Nigeria?” is emblematic of someone who fundamentally misunderstands, or deliberately subverts, the watchdog role of the legislature. This is not about political infighting; it is about institutional oversight and accountability, which are hallmarks of any functional democracy.

In a bid to justify his camaraderie with the executive, Akpabio flaunts the fact that the current administration features a president, vice president, and first lady, all former senators. According to him, this shared pedigree has fostered “unprecedented cooperation.” But cooperation, in the context he describes, is merely subservience in disguise. It is a scenario where the legislature becomes an extension of the presidency, a rubber stamp, rather than a check and balance.

The Nigerian democracy today, particularly under the Tinubu administration, is suffering from a dangerous synchronization of powers. Nowhere is this clearer than in the following observations:

From the approval of massive loans without rigorous scrutiny to the quick passage of bills forwarded from the presidency, the National Assembly has acted more like a civil service department than an independent arm of government. Laws like the Student Loan Act and Minimum Wage Bill may be lauded by Akpabio, but they are often passed without robust public consultation or debate. The question is not whether laws are passed, but whether they are passed through a process that reflects legislative independence.

The judiciary, the supposed last hope of the common man, has become increasingly politicized. Judicial appointments are heavily influenced by the executive, and judgments on politically sensitive matters often tilt in favor of the ruling party. The separation of powers cannot exist where judges are afraid to rule against the government for fear of retribution or lack of promotion.

The core function of the National Assembly, to hold the executive accountable through oversight, has become more theatrical than substantive. Committees summon ministers and heads of agencies more for show than for genuine interrogation. Reports are swept under the carpet, and corruption probes often end without consequence.

Akpabio boasts that the Senate has rejected some of the president’s nominees, as if that alone proves independence. But rejecting a handful of appointees while approving dozens of questionable decisions does not restore credibility. It is a tactic to project a façade of impartiality while maintaining the status quo.

Montesquieu wrote: “When the legislative and executive powers are united in the same person, or in the same body of magistrates, there can be no liberty.” This is exactly what Akpabio is institutionalizing. The Nigerian Senate, under his leadership, has become a co-pilot in a plane that the executive solely navigates.

Rather than serve as a balancing force, the legislature has surrendered its identity, its dignity, and its purpose. The claim that legislators are elected to “work in a bipartisan manner” sounds noble on the surface, but in Nigeria’s context, it often means turning a blind eye to injustice, incompetence, and impunity, all in the name of unity.

The effect of this breakdown in the separation of powers is dire. Nigeria is teetering on the edge of elected authoritarianism, where elections still happen but the institutions that should guarantee fairness, accountability, and transparency have been neutralized. The legislature no longer asks tough questions. The judiciary is slow or reluctant to challenge the executive. And the executive rules almost unimpeded.

The average Nigerian citizen, reeling from economic hardship, insecurity, and poor governance, is left with nowhere to turn. When all three arms of government sing the same tune, dissent becomes a crime, and the interests of the people become secondary to the interests of the ruling elite.

What Nigeria desperately needs is not lawmakers who see themselves as partners in governance, but as protectors of the people’s trust. They must reassert their constitutional role, not for the sake of confrontation but for the preservation of democratic integrity.

Senator Akpabio’s model of legislative-executive “synergy” may win him applause in the corridors of Aso Rock, but such relationship would not in history be seen as a legacy that should be replicated. By turning Montesquieu’s principle of separation of powers on its head, he is helping to erode the very fabric of democratic governance in Nigeria.

In this precarious moment in Nigeria’s history, the question is not whether the arms of government should work together, but how they should work together without compromising their constitutional independence.

For if the legislature continues to abandon its oversight role and the judiciary its impartiality, then Nigeria will not just be a flawed democracy. It will become a democracy in name only, a sad irony for a country that once fought so hard to escape the yoke of military dictatorship.

In Nigeria’s current political theatre, a headline recently broke with thunderous resonance: “2027 Coalition: Atiku Camp Offers Obi VP Role in One-Term Deal.” According to reports, former Vice President Atiku Abubakar has allegedly offered Mr. Peter Obi a Vice Presidential slot in a coalition arrangement that would see Atiku contest for president and serve only one term before supposedly handing over power to Obi.

On the surface, this sounds like political maturity, a show of compromise to oust the All Progressives Congress (APC) and bring in what they call a “Government of National Salvation.” But beneath the carefully crafted headlines lies a deeper question about self-worth, political identity, and how Nigeria’s long-suffering electorate perceives true leadership.

Peter Obi, this is not just about political arithmetic. This is about legacy. This is about knowing your worth and not settling for less. And to be blunt: accepting a vice-presidential slot in 2027 would be akin to a first-class graduate begging for “any job” after waiting five years post-graduation.

For the sake of clarity, let us at this juncture unpack the analogy. There was once a graduate, brilliant, qualified, loaded with potential, who walked from office to office, CV in hand, only to be asked repeatedly, “What kind of job are you looking for?” And each time, out of frustration, he would say, “Any job.” That answer, although sincere, always came across as desperate and undefined. Nobody hires “anyone” for “Any job.” The real world does not work that way. Just like in politics, perception is everything.

Peter Obi is no political novice. He is not “anyone.” In 2023, he became the poster boy for Nigeria’s youthful aspirations, a beacon for issue-based politics, and the only candidate who forced the status quo to reckon with new political realities. He inspired a generation of first-time voters and civilly engaged Nigerians who rejected both APC and PDP not out of rebellion, but out of reason.

To now consider playing second fiddle again in 2027, after running a formidable presidential campaign that shook two political giants to their core, would be nothing short of political regression.

To in this context explain why this is the wrong move, it is germane to first talk about credibility. In 2019, Peter Obi ran with Atiku under the PDP and lost. That loss was not only because of the APC machinery, but also because the duo failed to inspire genuine transformation. When Obi broke away in 2022 to pursue the presidency under the Labour Party, it was a masterstroke. It was not just a change of party, it was a change of politics. That bold move drew in young people, professionals, and first-time voters in droves.

Now imagine trying to tell those same people in 2027, “I’m back as number two to the same man I left behind.” It would be seen as a betrayal of hope. The “Obidient Movement” was not built around Atiku. It was built around Peter Obi. If he accepts to return as a Vice Presidential candidate, he risks not only losing the movement but diluting its very essence.

Second, there is no guarantee Atiku will keep his one-term promise. Nigerian politics is not built on trust. If there is anything history has taught us, it is that political agreements, especially unwritten ones, are hardly worth the paper they are not written on. Even if it is documented, there is no legal obligation for Atiku to hand over after one term. Power, once tasted, rarely gets relinquished easily.

Furthermore, let us not forget: Atiku is a serial contestant. He has been on the ballot more times than most Nigerians care to count. Each time, he says it is his “last try.” Why should anyone believe 2027 would be any different?

Given the backdrop of the foregoing views, it is not out of place to opine that desperation should not be mistaken for Strategy.  Let us return to our graduate job seeker analogy. What does it mean when a qualified person says, “I will take any job”? It means he or she is not thinking clearly. Such graduate is tired, and vulnerable. And more often than not, exploited.

Peter Obi must not become the desperate graduate of Nigerian politics. He must not act like a man who just wants to enter Aso Rock by any means, even through the servant’s quarter. Because, like the graduate who undersells himself, he would be telling Nigerians and the world: “I don’t know my worth.”

Without mincing words, this is not the Peter Obi Nigerians followed in 2023. The Peter Obi they followed was bold, precise, intentional, and principled. He did not wait to be offered a position, he declared his interest, challenged the establishment, and proved that a new Nigeria was possible. That Peter Obi cannot and must not be reduced to a “Spare Tyre”

It is time to go all in, or step aside. This is as 2027 must be all or nothing. It must be a presidential bid or none at all. If there is no room for him to run as president under the Labour Party due to internal crisis, then let him rally the Obidient Movement, civic groups, and credible political stakeholders to create or adopt a platform that truly represents the people’s interests. Nigerians are tired of recycled promises and tired political marriages that do not translate into better governance.

Obi must not allow Atiku to rebrand himself using his clean slate and integrity. He must not allow the political establishment to piggyback on his credibility simply to gain votes and then dump him once power is secured.

If Atiku is truly serious about making way for Obi, then let him step aside now and support Obi as the coalition’s presidential candidate. Anything less than that is deception.

To the millions of Nigerians who stood in the sun and rain to vote for Peter Obi, in the last presidential election in 2023, do not let this pass quietly. Politics is not a one-man game. Movements only succeed when they are loud, persistent, and clear. Make your voices heard. Let Obi know that anything short of a presidential ambition in 2027 is unacceptable. Let him know that he was not chosen to be a second option. He was chosen to be a first choice.

Peter Obi has a chance to go down in history as the man who redefined Nigerian politics, or as the man who played safe and faded into political footnote. He must decide whether to rise like Nelson Mandela or shrink into a supporting role that history would not remember.

This is not the time to act like the jobless graduate begging for any job. Peter Obi is overqualified for the vice presidency. He is presidential material. Let it be presidency or nothing. Nigerians are watching. The world is watching. And history will judge.

It was, perhaps, no surprise that when President Bola Tinubu spoke to newsmen after the coronation of Pope Leo XIV in Rome on Sunday, the theme that he chose was the diversity of the Nigerian nation. The significance of the invitation and the symbolism of Tinubu’s presence at the Vatican were widely perceived against the background of the perennial question of diversity in this multi-religious and multi-ethnic country. Here was the President, a Muslim, leading the Nigerian delegation to the epochal Christian ceremony that attracted many leaders across the world. Tinubu said of his presence: “(It is) consistent in the true sense of unity in diversity… We must continue to work on it. It’s a work in progress…”

Now, identity politics is a global phenomenon. It is a challenge to nation-building in many countries. In the specific case of Nigeria, the manifestation of identity politics is more pronounced in the religious, ethnic and regional dimensions. In particular, the question of ethnic identity will be examined in this column. Virtually every issue in the polity and society is now ethnicised, thereby compounding the process of finding solutions.

To start with, a lot of conceptual problems becloud rational discussions. Terms are used without clarity about their meanings. So, during debates there is hardly any mutual understanding of the words being employed to advance arguments from opposite sides.

One of those often-misused words is “tribe.”

It is in this light of the foregoing that a revised copy of a piece entitled “So, where are the tribes?” published here on April 14, 2021, is being reproduced as follows:

Simply put, there is no tribe anywhere in Nigeria today. There are instead communities, ethnic groups and nationalities making up the country. These categories are different from tribe.

Despite this obvious sociological fact, in official documents and public discussions ethnic groups comprising tens of millions of people are incorrectly referred to as “tribes.” Hence, from the professor to the senator and from the pundit to the roadside mechanic, comes the conclusion that the problem of Nigeria is “tribalism.” 

When you make a statement at the police station, you have to indicate your “tribe” on the paper. A line in the Nigeria’s resurrected national anthem even says: “Though tribes and tongues may differ; In brotherhood we stand…”

It’s often considered supremely charitable when you say a political personality is “detribalised.” But, this is grossly erroneous.  To be “detribalised” is to be removed from a tribe. Here is the definition of “detribalise”, according to the Oxford Dictionary: “remove (someone) from a traditional tribal social structure.” The dictionary further gives the examples of usage of the word “detribalise” as follows: “these policies attempted to detribalise native people by extricating them from their land base; (detribalised as adjective):  the 250,000 include many detribalised urban people. “

It is, therefore, a monumental insult to say, for instance, that an Igbo man belonging to an ethnic group of over 40 million people is “detribalised” when what you simply mean to say is that he is no ethnic chauvinist. When you describe a man as “detribalised” what you are saying unwittingly is that the gentleman has just been taken out of a primitive enclave and relocated, perhaps, in an urban civilised setting. And it doesn’t strike some pundits as strange that while the British discuss the issue of “Scottish nationalism” Nigerians talk of “Yoruba tribalism” even though the Yoruba population in Nigeria is larger than that of the Scottish in United Kingdom. You will never read in British newspapers stories about Welsh or English tribalism. No, they don’t discuss “tribalism” because they know the implication of inferiority in the meaning. Rather, they talk of “nationalism” Britain.   

It should obviously sound offensive that over 250 ethnic groups in Nigeria are derogatorily referred to as tribes. Some persons talk of their “tribe” when the appropriate word should be nation, nationality or ethnic group.

It is amazing that some pundits seem not to be rankled by these conceptual contradictions.

Imprecision is a social and intellectual malaise in Nigeria. This is because the scientific approach is hardly adopted in solving everyday problems. Scientific method is not yet entrenched in the national culture. It takes discipline to do so. The imprecise use of terms is part of the deficit in the current debate of the Nigerian condition. Hardly is there any agreement on the meanings of many of the buzzwords used in discussing the nation’s problems. For instance, despite the legitimate impatience of some well-informed advocates of “restructuring” with those still ask for the meaning of the term, a lot of clarification is still necessary in some quarters. This may sound indulgent or pedantic; but it is important.

In the specific case of the inappropriate use of the   category “tribe,” the concern here transcends academic anthropology. The error is in a sense a measure of Nigeria’s social and political development. Historically, the colonialists in their perverted sociology used the word “tribe” to describe a people they regarded as primitive. It was part of the ideological hegemony of the racists to portray the colonised people as inferior with no social or political history. It didn’t matter that kingdoms and empires existed for centuries in places the colonialists later described as tribal enclaves. Imagine still describing Edo as a tribe centuries after the Benin Kingdom established relations with Portugal.  Today, the Portuguese will not refer to any part of their country as a tribe. Talking about sociological evolution, it was a racist insult to describe as tribesmen the producers of the masterpieces of art stolen by the white man during the colonial conquests.  

The irony is that decades after independence well educated Nigerians continue to describe their ethnic groups and nationalities in the same pejorative term those sociologists in the service of colonialism describe black people in the 19th Century.

To be sure, members of a tribe belonged to one of the lowest rungs in the ladder of human civilisation; they were still at the pre-state stage in political evolution. The tribal space is the universe of some members of the tribe.   As a member of a tribe you might not even be aware of the existence other tribes in the same region. 

It is noteworthy that in the West, in contemporary discussions of inter-group relations the category “tribe’ is reserved only for those regarded as backward with all the socio-economic and political connotations. So the Aborigines in Australia are described as “tribal’” people. In the American context, ethnic and racial groups are not called tribes. The category of tribe applies only to some native Americans still consigned to the dungeon of underdevelopment by virtue of racist policies. Tribesmen as a group and as individuals are markedly separated from other people in terms of development and modernisation. The areas occupied by the extremely disadvantaged groups are still described as “tribal.” 

However, none of the Nigerian ethnic groups, nationalities and, some would even say, nations, could be described as caves of primitive tribesmen.  No part of Nigeria today could be said to be occupied by people completely detached from civilisation.

Regional disparities are, of course, undeniable.  No ethnic group is immune to the  socio-economic underdevelopment which defines the Nigerian society. Yet no group is excluded in the process  of elite formation regardless of the size.

It was quite instructive watching a retired service chief  on television the other day telling his remarkable life story which illustrates  the point at issue. He  belongs to “a minority group within  a minority area.” Yet he rose to be a defence chief some years ago. Similarly, a former senator told his own story. If you use language as the yardstick of ethnic classification, his mother tongue is spoken by only a few hundreds of people. The distinguished senator became a reputable principal  officer of the  senate. There are several examples of citizens belonging to small ethnic groups who have gained national prominence on their own  individual merit. Certainly, these ladies and gentlemen cannot be described as tribesmen and women. In contrast, it was great news in the United States early four years ago when a native American was appointed into a high political office. 

It is pertinent  to draw attention to the   error of calling ethnic groups tribes  because of its consequences for the current  identity politics. There is a way in which tribal identification tends to eclipse the factor of national integration in discussions.  The description of ethnic groups as tribes is, perhaps, an unconscious denial  of the currents of integration. Those who employ the category tribe in identifying themselves and others in puristic terms ignore these obvious currents.

For instance, the sensibilities of the products of inter-ethnic marriages are routinely ignored when some separatists beat the drums of war by peddling ethnic prejudice against members of other groups. The biological   products of  the  cosmopolitan  trends in the Nigerian society can definitely not be tribesmen by the very  definition of their birth. A person may decide to identify with the ethnic group of his mother or father; but that doesn’t make him a tribesman or woman.

The matter even becomes more absurd  when the dynamics of integration is considered.  Those who still talk of tribes and tribalism have static view of things. Take a sample. A citizen is born outside the homestead of his grandparents. He is of the third generation of his family members who have made the place outside their  place of origin  home. He has only visited the place of origin only on a few occasions. In every material sense the man is integrated into his place of abode where he works, pays his taxes and builds his family.  But in this upsurge of identity politics in the land, the man described above would likely be told by some ethnic champions  that  he doesn’t belong to the “tribe” that owns the place in which he lives. To talk of tribe in this context  is an insult to the man as well as those accusing him of being a stranger to the so-called tribe.

It is astonishing that this racist categorisation is embraced in everyday conversations by Nigerians themselves in the playing identity politics.

Doubtless, identity politics will be enriched by bringing conceptual clarity to the issues in dispute. A requirement for this is a good understanding of the meaning of words and phrases used in the debate because of their  implications.  Far from being pedantic on this topic, it is worth stressing that precision in terms of  the use of concepts is important for the urgent  task of diversity management. Those employing  categories to describe groups should be clear about what they mean precisely.

In sum, the Nigerian diversity is not defined by differences among tribesmen.

Among the diverse groups are ethnic groups and nationalities. Some even proclaim their own groups as nations. National integration is, therefore, not about forging an amalgam of tribes. Indeed, integration could be achieved with the instruments of well-articulated policies to promote equity in inter- ethnic and inter-regional relations and social justice for all citizens wherever they choose to reside in the country.

This should be an urgent task for all the tiers of government so that the promotion of national unity could be a legacy of this generation of leaders.

Former Kaduna State Governor Nasir El-Rufai has accused the All Progressives Congress (APC) of infiltrating opposition parties to sow seeds of discord.

He lamented that the APC might make an attempt to destabilise the Social Democratic Party (SDP), which he recently joined.

Speaking in a recent interview, El-Rufai stated that SDP has become a beacon of hope for citizens disillusioned with Nigeria’s two dominant political parties.

He said, “So there has been an influx [of members], but as part of that influx, we also expect that the sitting government and ruling party will try to inject viruses into the party to create crisis — as it has done, or they have done, in the Labour Party, NNPP, and PDP.

“Since I joined the Social Democratic Party on 10 March, I have been gratified by the reception of Nigerians and love expressed for the party.

“It seems clear to me that most Nigerians have lost hope in both the APC and PDP and are looking for a credible alternative.”

He attributed this growing confidence to the SDP’s legacy and the calibre of individuals recently joining its ranks.

El-Rufai added that the party has taken preventive steps to avoid internal crises by ensuring only credible individuals are placed in leadership roles.

“We’ve worked hard to prevent crisis in the party by being thorough and carrying out due diligence with regards to those that will be entrusted with the leadership of the SDP,” he said.

[NaijaNews]