
OTHERS' VIEWS
There’s a concern that Nigeria could soon become a one-party state, not by law, like in China, but through subterfuge – or in legal terms, de facto – similar to Cameroon, Uganda, Equatorial Guinea, or even Rwanda, where the ruling parties are inflicting a slow, painful death on the opposition.
Those who express this concern have given many reasons. The clearest and most troubling, it seems, is the wave of defections to the ruling All Progressives Congress (APC) that has depleted the main opposition People’s Democratic Party (PDP).
Wave after wave
Apart from Federal lawmakers from Osun to Kaduna and Niger States who have defected, as of April 25, Governor Sheriff Oborevwori of Delta State and his predecessor, Ifeanyi Okowa and the entire Delta PDP structure defected to the APC, with more defections still anticipated nationwide. It’s likely that soon, five of the six South-South states, which have been the bastion of the PDP since 1999, may fall.
Concerned persons, mainly those in the PDP and civil society, have said these are not defections. Instead, they argue that they are negotiated exits by politicians to evade trial by the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) or for the personal political gain of the governors and other defectors. They have blamed the government of President Bola Ahmed Tinubu for instigating the defections out of a desperation to win the 2027 presidential election because his record in office cannot save him.
Chasing shadows
I think it’s nonsense. And though he did not use these words, former Vice President Atiku Abubakar, out of self-interest, put it more elegantly when he said he believed that defections are a fact of Nigerian politics and defectors are merely exercising their freedom of association under the law.
A serial defector himself, and sixth-time contender for the presidency, it would have been a surprise if he said anything else. The problem, according to Atiku, is not the defections but the two-year record of performance that, all things being equal, cannot return the president to office.
However, if the worst fear of Atiku and the opposition comes through, as is likely, and President Tinubu returns to office in 2027, as is probable, it would not be because of the defections; it would be because Atiku paved the way for the destruction of the PDP. He has proved to be the party’s undertaker-in-chief, something not often said, because it is convenient to blame Tinubu.
Best chance lost
For example, Sule Lamido, a leading member of the PDP, reportedly said on Tuesday that “the President should be fair” and save the opposition from being crushed. I’m unsure how much Lamido will pay Tinubu for self-sabotage. It’s surprising that one of the PDP’s founders does not know that a few of the founders ruined the PDP, and no one but its remnant can save it.
The party’s best chance since it lost power 10 years ago was in 2023 when the APC was at its most vulnerable. The government of President Muhammadu Buhari would have viewed a hostile takeover by the opposition PDP as mercy killing, if not as an act of charity. Lamido knows, more than anyone else, that Atiku stood in the way.
Rolling stone, no moss
After contesting and losing the APC primaries to Buhari in 2014, Atiku defected again to PDP in 2017 and contested the PDP primaries in 2019. At that time, the PDP was recovering from the catastrophic defeat of 2015, during which it lost nine of its 22 states and 93 seats in the National Assembly. In the winner-takes-all creed of the presidential system, the PDP faced a long harmattan of recriminations and decay while Atiku was away.
However, the party was gradually rebuilt, primarily through the efforts of Nyesom Wike, the Rivers State Governor at the time. When Atiku returned, the party was not what it was in its heyday. Still, it was not the ramshackle he had abandoned.
The calamitous record of the APC under President Buhari, the party’s division leading up to the 2023 election, and the overall mood in the country at that time indicated that Nigeria was vulnerable to a hostile takeover. The country was fed up with the APC.
Marabout’s prophecy
But Atiku, being Atiku, felt obliged to live up to the marabout’s prediction in 1998 that he would one day be Nigeria’s president. It was this pursuit of prophecy that got him into trouble with President Olusegun Obasanjo in 2003; it was the blind pursuit of it that drove him from the PDP to the Action Congress of Nigeria (ACN), and later to the APC. The obsession with this prophecy finally brought him back to the PDP. He just had to run.
But it shouldn’t have happened in 2023. While the odds favoured another party to succeed the exhausted APC, it certainly did not favour a northerner to run. Not after eight years of Buhari, a Northerner, not after Tinubu had wrested the flag of the APC, and certainly not when the convention in the PDP favoured rotation.
Atiku cast aside the odds, defied the restraints of common sense, ignored the party’s convention and a last-minute understanding after a key London meeting, and subverted the primaries to carry the flag. Things, quite naturally, fell apart.
Looking for a scapegoat
The rest is history. The PDP lost. The party that boasted that it was Africa’s largest party, destined to rule for 60 years, lost its way, leaving its members desperately searching for shelter and rehabilitation, and looking for rest wherever it may be found.
How can that be Tinubu’s problem when Atiku, the wrecking ball, still sits pretty? I understand the hysteria in the opposition, but it does not have to waste its current misery looking for scapegoats outside. Two years is still a reasonably long time to rebuild. The rise of Peter Obi nine months to the last general election and the impact the Labour Party made show that voters will reward a viable alternative platform.
The word here is viable. Not a party led by opportunists who have made a life career of running with the hare and hunting with the hounds. Say what you like about Tinubu, he has stood with his progressive brand of politics for nearly 30 years, even standing alone against all odds and at significant personal and reputational costs.
Go, Atiku, go
If the PDP is serious about a future, and Atiku cares about it, he must immediately drop his ambition to run again. This ambition is at the heart of the current turmoil in the party; it was why the PDP broke into three factions on the eve of the last election; it was why he has been unable to rebuild the ruins two years later. And it is why he is arguably the first Nigerian presidential aspirant to lose two running mates to defections.
There’s no point blaming Tinubu for the wreckage, or getting angry with Okowa for sexifying his incredible opportunism as the beginning of a movement. PDP will get a fresh start on life when Atiku, the main obstacle, steps down. Everything else is a waste of time.
[OPINION] Good Riddance Or Divine Rebirth? Is God Flushing Out The Bad Eggs From PDP?” - Isaac Asabor
AdminThe popular English proverb “Good riddance to bad rubbish” is often uttered in frustration or finality when someone or something unpleasant is finally out of the picture. It is a phrase steeped in exasperation, relief, and sometimes vindication. In the past few years, and more pointedly in the post-2015 political reality of Nigeria, the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP), once the self-proclaimed largest political party in Africa , appears to be undergoing a slow, painful, but possibly divinely orchestrated self-cleansing. Could it be that this proverbial saying is finding expression in the PDP’s current woes? Could the turmoil that has rocked the party from within be God’s way of flushing out the bad eggs that contributed to its fall from grace? It is a question worth pondering, analytically and spiritually.
In fact, to appreciate the gravity of the PDP’s current predicament, one must recall where it once stood. For sixteen years, from 1999 to 2015, the PDP held the reins of power in Nigeria. It boasted of national spread, robust war chests, and a grip on political patronage. It was a party of godfathers, rainmakers, and kingmakers. It was the “big tent” that every politician aspired to shelter under, until it was not.
In retrospect, the PDP’s descent began subtly, with internal contradictions and an over-reliance on incumbency power rather than genuine party discipline or ideology. It reached a climax when, in 2015, it suffered a historic defeat at the hands of a rebranded opposition coalition, the All Progressives Congress (APC). That loss not only ended its uninterrupted streak but also exposed the fissures and self-inflicted wounds that had been festering under the surface.
In fact, prior to its ongoing crisis of unprecedented mass defections of its members, the PDP had wobbled from one crisis to another: leadership tussles, mass defections, lack of internal democracy, and contradictory messaging. Most recently, the party’s inability to field a united front in the 2023 elections, including the G5 Governors rebellion, the Atiku-Wike standoff, and the endless tug-of-war between the old guard and emerging forces, has shown that something is fundamentally wrong.
Let us not sugar-coat it: the PDP has become a party weighed down by egos larger than its logo. Many of its leading figures are more interested in personal political survival and fiefdom-building than national development or ideological cohesion. Some have used the party as a personal estate, others as a springboard for negotiation and cross-carpeting, while some others remain embedded merely to block younger or more competent individuals from rising.
How else do we explain the kind of internal sabotage that marked the 2023 elections? Why was it so difficult for a party that governed Nigeria for 16 years to put aside internal wrangling to form a united front against a ruling party burdened with economic crises, insecurity, and public discontent?
It would not be an exaggeration to say that some PDP chieftains, by their actions or inactions, were more interested in destroying the house if they could not control it. This is where the phrase “good riddance to bad rubbish” begins to make spiritual and political sense.
Given the backdrop of the foregoing, it is germane to ask, “Could this be divine intervention?”
From a spiritual lens, which cannot be ignored in a religious society like Nigeria, one is tempted to see the PDP’s gradual unravelling as a divine pruning process. The Scriptures are replete with examples of God purging institutions, nations, and people before rebirth or redemption. Could it be that God is using the chaos in PDP to flush out the political merchants, power-mongers, and wolves in sheep’s clothing who hijacked the party?
In this context, those who have exited the party, whether voluntarily or due to suspension, may actually be the proverbial bad eggs. Those whose activities have brought nothing but division, suspicion, and backstabbing might just be receiving divine redirection, or rejection.
From the ouster of Uche Secondus to the rebellious stance of Governor Nyesom Wike, from the defection of prominent figures like Dave Umahi, and from the tornado-like defection just witnessed in Delta State few days ago, to the seemingly unending friction between northern and southern blocs within the party, every shake-up could be interpreted as part of a larger divine design to flush and purge.
It is worth noting that even Jesus had to cleanse the temple of moneychangers and political opportunists in His time. Why should the PDP not go through its own purging season?
For those still holding onto hope for the PDP, this ongoing self-cleansing may be a good thing, if properly channeled. The party now stands at a crossroads: reform or become irrelevant. It must choose between remaining a vehicle for political rent-seekers or transforming into a truly ideologically driven opposition party.
Against the backdrop of the foregoing view, it is expedient to suggest in this context that a new PDP must rebuild its core ideology, democratize internal processes, encourage youth participation and hold leaders accountable.
Explanatorily put, it is not out of place to opine that for too long that the party has operated like a non-ideological platform of convenience. Therefore, it must define what it stands for and articulate policies that genuinely connect with Nigerians.
In a similar vein, the party’s primaries, delegate systems, and leadership selection must be transparent and inclusive, and most importantly, godfatherism must give way to meritocracy.
Also in a similar vein, there is an urgent need for the party to encourage youth participation. This is as a party whose average leader is 65+ cannot effectively represent a country where the median age is 18. The party must empower new voices, fresh ideas, and youth-driven leadership.
Again, loyalty to the party must not trump accountability. Those who sabotage, defame, or trade the party for personal gain should not be protected, and the party must reconcile warring factions, even as it must also learn from past mistakes, considering the fact that loyalty must be earned, not begged for.
At this juncture, it is expedient to ask, “Who’s next in the dustbin?” To answer the foregoing question, it is germane to opine that as the PDP gropes for a new path that there are still individuals within the party whose personal ambitions outweigh party interests. There are still those who treat the PDP as a retirement home or bargaining chip. If the party is serious about rebirth, more exits, voluntary or enforced, may still come. And perhaps they should.
The reason for the foregoing view cannot be farfetched as sometimes, survival requires subtraction before addition. The wheat must be separated from the chaff. The lion’s den must be cleared of foxes.
In fact, topnotch affiliates of the PDP should not regret that their members are defecting to other parties, particularly the APC, rather, they should use the unarguable disguised opportunity to reflect on the future of the party.
The PDP must reflect deeply. The mass exodus, defections, internal implosions, and trust deficit are painful, but perhaps necessary. If the party sees this season as a divine wake-up call and not a death sentence, it may yet rise from the ashes.
Let no one mourn the departure of the bad eggs. Let no tears be shed for political spoilers, saboteurs, and opportunists. If anything, their exit opens a path for younger, smarter, and more ideologically sound minds to steer the PDP back to relevance.
So yes, perhaps the proverb “good riddance to bad rubbish” is not just a saying, it is a prophecy finding expression in the PDP’s journey. And who knows, just maybe, this is how God chooses to save Nigeria’s opposition from itself.
[OPINION] Expediency Of Making Political Defection In Nigeria Costly And Unattractive - Isaac Asabor
AdminThe gale of defections in Nigeria’s political sphere has become not only repetitive but increasingly dangerous to the integrity and growth of our democracy. Politicians now switch political parties with reckless abandon, often for selfish gain, without consideration for the electorates that handed them the mandate. What was once considered an exception has now become the norm. It is high time this damaging trend is confronted and curtailed. The urgency now lies in making defection both legally costly and politically unattractive.
Unless Nigeria enacts and enforces stringent legal and judicial frameworks that make defection a serious political gamble, one that comes with the forfeiture of political office, the phenomenon will persist, to the detriment of our democratic evolution.
In fact, since the return to civilian rule in 1999, Nigeria has witnessed countless high-profile defections. Politicians hop from one party to another, particularly during election seasons or when a different party assumes power at the federal or state level. These defections are hardly based on ideology or genuine dissatisfaction with governance structures. Instead, they are driven by political expediency, pursuit of influence, protection from probes, or access to public funds.
Unfortunately, voters are made powerless spectators in this charade. They elect leaders based on party ideologies and manifestoes, only for those leaders to abandon the very platforms that brought them to power. This act of betrayal undermines representative democracy, reduces voter confidence, and destroys the principle of political accountability.
Worse still, entire legislative houses in some states have flipped allegiances overnight without a single vote being cast. The ease with which this occurs suggests a total breakdown of democratic values.
Aptly put, political defections in Nigeria political sphere has become a constitutional loophole, and a tool for manipulation. This is as Nigeria’s constitution does make some provisions against defection. Specifically, Section 68(1) (g) of the 1999 Constitution (as amended) states that a legislator shall vacate his seat if he defects from the party that sponsored him, except where there is a division in the party. It is this exception clause that has become a major loophole.
To worsen the matter, politicians and their lawyers often conjure up evidence of “factional crisis” within their former party, whether genuine or fabricated, just to escape disqualification. Sadly, the courts have in many instances upheld such arguments, further emboldening the practice.
For members of the executive, governors and presidents, the constitution is even more silent. Despite the fact that they also rise to power through political parties, their defection is seen as a personal decision that does not affect their mandate. This perception is both illogical and dangerous.
If we are serious about strengthening our democracy, this lacuna must be fixed immediately. The mandate should be tied to the political party, not just the individual. The current system allows politicians to abuse the electoral process and walk away without consequences.
Against the backdrop of the foregoing view, it is germane to opine that the judiciary must play its role in defending the sanctity of the people’s mandate. Courts have occasionally stepped up, sacking defectors or ordering reruns, but these rulings are sporadic and lack consistency. The highest court in the land, the Supreme Court, must step in and provide a uniform interpretation on the issue of defection.
One route the judiciary can take is to revisit and clarify Section 221 of the Constitution, which provides that it is political parties, not individuals that contest elections. If a party owns the mandate, then logically, any defection should trigger a loss of seat or position.
There should be a binding judicial pronouncement that compels any politician who defects to resign immediately and seek a fresh mandate under the platform of their new party. Anything less is a rape of the democratic process.
To arrest this menace once and for all, Nigeria needs new laws that compel defectors to vacate their positions immediately upon defection. They must then recontest and win elections under the new party if they wish to retain their positions. This is not a novel idea. It is a democratic ideal that reaffirms the supremacy of the electorate.
Let the voters decide whether they support the change in political affiliation. If the defector is truly popular and the switch is ideologically justified, then he or she will win again. If not, they must be shown the exit door.
This reform will drastically reduce the culture of political prostitution and restore sanity to our political space.
Furthermore, political parties that receive defectors should be held responsible for encouraging anti-democratic practices. There should be penalties, financial or administrative, for any party that promotes or rewards defections.
In fact, there are lessons to be learnt from other parts of the world on political defection. This is as other democracies have handled this challenge with firmness and clarity. For example, India introduced the Anti-Defection Law in 1985 via the Tenth Schedule of its Constitution. This law mandates the disqualification of any elected lawmaker who defects without just cause. It was specifically designed to stop the frequent party-hopping that plagued Indian politics during the 1960s and 70s.
Thanks to this law, political stability improved in India, and elected officials became more cautious about switching affiliations. Nigeria must follow suit and craft similar legislation that reflects our political realities.
Appraising the real cost of defection, it would be revealed that at its core, defection hurts governance. It shifts focus from development to political survival. It creates rifts within legislative houses, frustrates policy continuity, and encourages loyalty to power rather than to people or ideology. It also promotes political blackmail, where lawmakers use defection as a bargaining chip to escape consequences or extract concessions.
Above all, it disempowers the voters. When a person elected on the platform of Party A defects to Party B without returning to seek the people’s approval, it reduces the electorate to mere pawns in a power game.
Without a doubt, the prevailing gale of defection in Nigeria at the moment does not speak well about democracy. It is daylight robbery!
Given the anti-democratic nature of the foreboding gale of defection, it is germane to contextually raise the red flag by saying that time to rescue Nigeria’s democracy is now.
If we are serious about reforming Nigeria’s political landscape and building enduring democratic institutions, then we must make defection unattractive. We must make it a serious political offense that carries weighty consequences, including the forfeiture of position and a compulsory reelection.
The time has come for the National Assembly to move beyond endless rhetoric and take legislative action. Let them pass a comprehensive Anti-Defection Law that mirrors the realities of our political system. Let the judiciary interpret and enforce these laws boldly. Let the electorate demand accountability from those who betray their trust.
Until defection becomes a gamble with real consequences, Nigerian politicians will continue to treat political parties as disposable tools and voters as expendable. Our democracy cannot grow under such a system.
The expediency of making defection costly and unattractive cannot be overemphasized. The nation stands at a crossroads, we either choose to defend the sanctity of the ballot or continue to let our democracy be auctioned to the highest bidder.
As the world marks another International Workers’ Day, a day traditionally set aside to celebrate the sacrifices, struggles, and achievements of the working class, one cannot help but ask a painfully honest question: “Do Nigerian workers truly have anything to celebrate?” The answer, for many, is a resounding no.
Across various sectors, from the civil service to private enterprise, from factories to farms, classrooms to clinics, Nigerian workers are breaking their backs daily, yet have little or nothing to show for it. While the world uses this day to appreciate workers as the engines of the economy, in Nigeria, the occasion often serves more as a grim reminder of the broken social contract between the state and its workforce.
Without a doubt, not a few workers in Nigeria are earning salaries that cannot feed their families. Perhaps the most glaring injustice Nigerian workers face is the insultingly low remuneration. When compared with other nations, even within Africa, Nigerian workers are paid among the least. As of today, the national minimum wage stands at a paltry ₦70,000 per month, and which is not being paid by majority of employers in the private sector. You can imagine! A full-grown adult working full time in Africa’s largest economy earns the equivalent of less than a week’s grocery bill in most countries.
To put it into perspective, in South Africa, the minimum wage is undeniably higher, and also in Ghana, which has a higher minimum wage than Nigeria. Meanwhile, the Nigerian worker is expected to live, pay transport, feed a family, and maybe send children to school with ₦1,000 a day, and that is for those even lucky enough to receive the minimum wage consistently.
Ironically, even those in relatively well-paying jobs, and who are majorly medical doctors, engineers, lecturers, mid-level civil servants are not spared. Inflation has swallowed their salaries whole. By the time rent, food, transportation, and school fees are paid, there is little or nothing left. Most survive on multiple side hustles. A university lecturer, for instance, might be running tutorial centers, farming, consulting, and other side hustles, all just to keep the home running.
Without any iota of exaggeration, inflation has remained a silent killer of workers in Nigeria. Even more troubling is how inflation has silently and steadily eroded whatever value those wages once held. The cost of living has skyrocketed. A bag of rice now sells for roughly ₦85,000, up from ₦7,000 just ten years ago. A loaf of bread that cost ₦100 a few years ago now costs ₦1,500. Public transport has tripled in cost. Electricity bills have risen sharply, even when power supply remains epileptic. For those living in cities, especially Lagos and Abuja, it is a daily miracle to survive.
Medical bills? Out of reach. Most workers today can no longer afford quality healthcare. In emergencies, many resort to traditional remedies or prayer. Sadly, even death has become a luxury, coffins are expensive, and burials even more so.
Another plague Nigerian workers face is debt. Many are buried in personal loans, cooperative deductions, and loan apps just to make ends meet. Salary advances are normalized, and pension savings, if they exist at all, are either tampered with or inaccessible.
Then there is the modern-day slavery practiced by many employers, especially in the private sector. In some establishments, workers are overworked and underpaid, denied leave, compelled to work weekends, and even forced to sign “no union” agreements. Domestic workers, security guards, factory hands, and junior staff are among the worst hit, with no protection whatsoever.
Worse still is the fact that job insecurity hangs over every employee like a sword. Retrenchments happen without warning. Contracts are terminated without compensation. The average Nigerian worker lives in fear; fear of speaking up, fear of being replaced, fear of unemployment.
Even in the public sector, where job security is supposedly guaranteed, workers suffer. Many are owed months of salary arrears. Promotions are delayed. Pensioners are treated like afterthoughts. Some states still struggle to pay gratuities owed to retirees from as far back as 2010. These old men and women, who spent their productive years serving the country, now die waiting for their entitlements, some collapsing in queues at government offices.
Many federal workers, teachers, and health workers have protested poor working conditions in the past year, but these protests are often met with empty promises or outright threats. Strikes, which ought to be a last resort, have become routine in Nigeria, not because workers enjoy abandoning their duty posts, but because it has become the only language governments and employers understand.
Given the backdrop of the foregoing view, it is disheartening that May 1st, a day that should serve as a beacon of appreciation and hope, has become a mere photo-op for politicians and employers. Year after year, we hear the same platitudes: “We appreciate our workers,” “We are working on improving salaries,” “We are committed to better welfare.” Yet nothing changes.
Beyond the empty speeches and token gestures, workers are left to navigate the same harsh realities year-round. Even worse, some state governors and government parastatals have hijacked the Workers’ Day celebration as a platform to campaign for popularity or divert attention from their failures. The parade grounds are littered with branded T-shirts, hollow speeches, and choreographed applause, but no real policy shifts or structural reforms.
Let us be clear: no nation can rise above the quality of life it provides its workforce. The real strength of any economy lies not just in GDP numbers but in the lives of the people who grease its wheels. The doctors saving lives in government hospitals. The teachers nurturing future leaders in under-equipped schools. The police officers and soldiers risking their lives for security. The journalists digging out the truth. The market women, drivers, bankers, engineers, factory workers, and artisans.
These people are the true heroes of our nation. They deserve more than one day of remembrance. They deserve more than token increments. They deserve dignity, respect, and most importantly, fair compensation.
Having lamented much in this context, it is high time the Nigerian government and corporate entities started treating workers like humans, not tools. The much-hyped minimum wage being paid to somewhat privileged workers in the civil service and some corporate bodies in the private sector of the economy, is not enough. Frankly speaking, it is still far below subsistence as it does not align with the real cost of living. Wage policies must be linked to inflation indices, reviewed periodically, and enforced uniformly across states.
Also, there is a dire need for stronger labor laws and stricter enforcement. Employers, both public and private, must be held accountable for violating workers’ rights. Pension systems must be sanitized, arrears cleared, and retirees paid promptly.
In a similar vein, unions must wake up. Some labor leaders have become too cozy with government, selling out the people they are meant to represent. A reawakening of principled, uncompromising labor activism is needed now more than ever.
Finally, we must all, as a society, change our perception of workers. Let us restore honor to labor. Let us recognize that there is dignity in work, whether white-collar or blue-collar.
In fact, workers deserve daily recognition, not just a date on the calendar. Therefore, as Nigeria joins the rest of the world to mark Workers’ Day, we must move beyond shallow celebrations. Workers do not need fanfare. They need food on the table, salaries that make sense, housing they can afford, and the assurance that their future, and that of their children, is secure.
Let this year’s May Day be a wake-up call to all stakeholders. Because, until the Nigerian worker has genuine reasons to celebrate, not just today, but every day, then May 1st will remain a mockery rather than a tribute.
While there is need for us to let the applause stop, and let the action begin, it is expedient to ask “Do Nigerian Workers Have Anything To Celebrate today, being Workers’ Day?
Against the background of ongoing defections to the All Progressives Congress by politicians from the so-called opposition parties, we still harbour the fear of a one-party state as an imminent reality. The truth is, what we run is already tantamount to a one-party system, a short historical distance away from the military era, where the head of state, who creates political parties, also hands political parties their respective defining ideologies. The multi-party democratic system, planked as it is on the distinctiveness of ideas and ideologies between parties, and requires the independence of political agents. Contenders must have equal chances to sell their moral vision to the people, contest for power, and maintain their stance even when they have not been voted to power. Also, the institutions must be autonomous enough to regulate the activities of political actors across the board. These are all features that have been seriously lacking in Nigerian politics.
Properly speaking, Nigeria does not even have political parties. What we have are platforms on which any candidate who can commandeer money and influence runs an election. The closest to an ideology that anyone will find in Nigeria’s present political arrangement is the desperation to seize power and, if that fails, to get as close to it as possible. Once upon a time, the PDP called itself the most formidable political party and boasted it would sustain power for the next 60 or even 100 years. They hardly survived one election cycle out of presidential power. Their party members virtually emptied themselves into the winning party even before the 2015 electoral losers had fully understood what had befallen them.
In any case, it does not quite matter which side wins an election because we will ultimately be governed by the same cross-carpeting agents. Our politics mostly lacks a distinguishing philosophy. Take, for instance, the APC. Does anyone have any examples of the progressive causes they have pursued since their founding? I even doubt anyone in the APC ever wonders if they are staying true to their “progressive” appellation. One can say the same for the PDP, whether as the “Peoples Democratic Party” or as “Power to the People.” One of the most laughable comments I read about the Labour Party during the 2023 elections was that it platformed a candidate whose antecedents did not match the “labour” ideology. There was an implicit assumption that the Nigerian “Labour Party” had an ideological affinity with the “Labour Party” of, say, the UK and Australia (which are typically peopled by social democrats) and should therefore act according to character. But there is nothing like that in Nigeria. Whatever name a political party calls itself is, at best, aspirational. It has little to do with what they can be trusted to always stand for. What matters is the control of federal power and mobilising resources for electoral victory.
Our politics has always been more of an aggregation of personalities managing their self-interests rather than an espousal of a governing vision. If you ever watch parliamentary debates in Nigeria, you would have noted that it never happens that lawmakers disagree with their peers based on any philosophy of how government should be structured. They all agree and disagree on the same thing; they collectively sign off the padded national budgets, and like serfs, they jump to their feet to chorus “on your mandate, we shall stand” when Bola Tinubu appears in their hollowed chamber. Without any internal differences, does it truly matter whether we have one party or a dozen?
Besides, the nature of our politics makes no room for abstract ideas. Elections are won or lost based on what they call “structure”, a euphemism for clout cultivated at grassroots levels and which will be sold to the highest bidder during elections. Politics is a pyramid scheme where those who hold sway at different levels exchange the votes of the people over whom they maintain some influence, and their calculations are always based on immediate material gains. The average Nigerian, too, hardly subscribes to a politics of ideas; people vote for personalities representing their identity groups and who they believe will hold power in trust for them. The platform on which such candidates compete hardly matters to our people, and it would seem superfluous for any party to maintain a distinctive ideology.
Perhaps, the biggest reason we never seem to evolve beyond a singularising political order is the nature of our economic system itself. We are largely an extractive economy, a system where the primary function of leadership is to manage and allocate raw resources. It is a political arrangement that makes the president disproportionately powerful since the opportunities for everyone’s social mobility are concentrated in his hands. He distributes to them based on the perceived degree of their fidelity to him. It is not in his personal interest to institutionalise the social instruments of democracy, and he will do everything to ensure opposition parties do not flourish.
If the “opposition” does not allow themselves to be amicably enticed with money and other offers, they will find themselves forcefully crippled. It is not strange that Ifeanyi Okowa, the man who could have become the vice president in 2023, is now crawling on his face to join the APC. He could simply have joined the APC without a fuss, like his peers had done, but he had to add a cringeworthy explanation. For a man who has a N1tn case with the EFCC, who can blame him for being practical? He is not the first person to join the APC to have his sins forgiven, as Adams Oshiomole once enjoined. Godswill Akpabio, the Senate President, too, was once in Okowa’s shoes. He joined the APC, and his case with the EFCC has been put in permanent abeyance. In a country where their president can suspend a governor, how many people will not bow and worship if their survival depends on it?
About the only time since 1999 “opposition” politics thrived in Nigeria was when the regional ACN contended with the national PDP. Now that power has changed hands, we know that the APC was hardly driven by ideological commitment during those years. Their “opposition” politics was funded by ambitious Tinubu with Lagos’ money. Once he got into power, he muted their bought voices. The only state in Nigeria where the “Lagos model” of sponsoring political opposition can replicate itself is Rivers State, and Tinubu has already anticipated that possibility. Not only did he undercut the strength of the PDP in that state by taking over one of their chieftains, Nyesom Wike, but he also showed his hand of power by suspending the substantive governor for six months. The Rivers State Governor, Siminalayi Fubara, who—just months ago—stood defiantly on his two feet, now grovels before the almighty federal power. The reality of being out of power must have hit him.
Such is the disempowering nature of our democracy. It constricts our choices to either being rewarded for compliance or punished with marginality. The average career politician chooses the former for obvious reasons, but also because they are amoral like that. Let me be clear that the fear of a one-party state is a well-founded one. To the best of our ability, we must resist it from becoming fully official because it will further degrade our politics. Yet, we cannot just mourn a politics that we wished we had—rather than the one that is already operative.
As a directing staff at the National Institute for Policy and Strategic Studies (NIPSS), Kuru, I was charged, as one of my responsibilities, with bringing the participants at the senior executive courses (SEC) and other programmes up to speed on recent developments in public administration and management in the twenty-first century. One of the most significant developments, and the point of many excited discussion is public policy decision-making. Given that governments all across the world are judged on their performance of the function of policy formulation and service delivery (of course, the regulatory function is also significant), the policy architecture of any government must factor in intelligent policymaking that will transform policy intelligence revolving around governance and development decision-making processes. And if the public service must facilitate a professional and intelligent policy advice to the government in ways that orient the politics-administration dichotomy in public administration, then due attention must be given to new developments in intelligent policymaking in the twenty-first century.
However, the practical worry I usually communicated to the SEC participants is how, since its emergence, public administrators in Nigeria have failed to give decision science its right of place in administrative and management practices. The cutting-edge application of development in this fascinating field has only been exploited by industrial management. Decision science was significantly facilitated by Chester Barnard. In his groundbreaking The Functions of the Executive (1938), he outlines a theoretical framework that allows us to examine how organizations actually operate outside of any normative or prescriptive requirements. Bernard’s contributions connect between the rationality of organizational, rather than individual, decision-making processes, and the cooperative capacity required to facilitate decision-making. While organizational decision-making is more significantly logical and rational, it is often facilitated by social and strategic contexts, like clear objectives, specialization, the flow of information, etc.
The organizational rationality that Barnard was referring to does not translate into the “perfect rationality” of traditional economic models and theories. This concept assumes that in the decision-making process, the decision makers are fully equipped with the necessary information and data to make the best economic decisions. On the contrary, Herbert Simon undermined this assumption of a perfect decision-making. According to him, human fallibility makes it impossible to achieve the perfect standpoint—having the capacity and the resources to gather and process all the information and data required to make perfectly rational decisions. There is just too much uncertainty involved in how we decide, what we decide and the alternatives available in resolving our decisional dilemma. This therefore implies that in critical decision-making, cognitive limitations, policy complexity and resource constraints, Herbert Simon argues, that decision-makers only pursue satisficing rather than optimal solutions. A solution is satisficing if it is founded on rational and pragmatic principles and circumstances.
Given the many troubles and predicaments of the modern world, from climate change to political processes, and given the fact that we do not have all the answers we seriously need. This is where artificial intelligence and big data become the starting point of our attempt to understand before we can even predict or act. It is in this sense that decision science has learnt a lot from Barnard’s and Simon’s understanding of decisional rationality, and how computers and machines generally can contribute to the decision-making dynamics. We can therefore immediately see how the idea of a data-driven decisional strategy can assist governments across the world, and especially in Africa, to come to terms with critical policy intelligence required to backstop governance and development policies.
There is no gainsaying the fact that we now live in the world of big data and artificial intelligence. This is the age of the machine. The operation of social media platforms, their algorithmic underpinnings, and the emergences of enormous databases all indicates that the amount of data available in contemporary world is beyond staggering. It has been reported that Facebook, the social media platform, warehouses “300 petabytes of data about its 2 billion active users, or 150 megabytes of data per user.” Of course, the Cambridge Analytica scandal that ignited concerns about the misuse of data raised critical issues around the ethics of data usage. However, that same concern attends the extent to which governments can ethically deploy data-driven policy intelligence in the pursuit of the well-being of their citizens. And even beyond this, governments all across the world are now confronted with multiple dimensions of polycrisis that disarticulate all efforts at making sense of their governance and development circumstances and objectives. The deployment of artificial intelligence and big data—from financial transaction data to the internet of things (IoT), and so on—cumulate into the enhancement of the credibility of those governments who have the courage to exploit their usage for policy intelligence.
However, before any government can get to the zenith of credibility and legitimacy, there is the outstanding and fundamental issue of extracting meaning, purpose and direction from the enormous amount of data available. This involves designing the models that extract and interpret the data in ways that enable government to explain and predict things, situation and circumstances in the real world. Data scientists, in other words, assist the governments in formulating hypotheses, based on the identification of trends, patterns and flows that investigate current problematics, anticipate future challenges and proactively energize government policies. In a world where climate change has undermined lots of policy intelligences, where geo-spatial data analytics backstops the government’s infrastructure masterplans in terms of identifying geographic patterns, trends, dynamics and disparities so as to be able to initiate creative policy designs and formulations that prioritize investments, allocate resources more effectively, and facilitate service delivery.
We now need to confront the necessity of deploying artificial intelligence and big data at the level of public service institutions, especially in line with the imperatives of institutional reforms that have the objectives of bringing these institutions up to speed with modern technologies, procedures and administrative imperatives that can enhance the government’s capacity to efficiently deliver goods and services to the citizenry. This deployment must however go beyond the default level where pubic institutions are just compelled to adopt any reigning innovation without a significant feasibility study in terms of the fundamental utility of the innovation within an overall organizational reform blueprint. For example, as part of the institutional imperatives, public institutions have to factor in the challenges of privacy, security, data governance and data ethics.
What differentiates a good administration from a bad one is the intelligent policymaking capacity that is founded on policy intelligence. Within Nigeria’s governance framework and policy architecture, a reformed policymaking founded on big data and artificial intelligence demands that the public service adopts a change management programme that must first give attention to the (re)professionalization of the workforce, especially the senior executive service. The SES must be beefed up as a multidisciplinary elite team that is charged with the articulation of a strategic policy intelligence. This allows the SES to not only play a critical role in policymaking function, but also facilitate the strategic deployment of big data. Recruitment into this top-level administrative corps will be on the basis of intelligence, professionalism and performance rating.
The establishment of the SES will entail modifying the generalist composition of the workforce through a competency mapping that create a hub of specialists and experts specifically reskilled for the demands of new technologies, artificial intelligence, big data and data science. The second dimension of the change management is to link this generic professionalization to the reform of the department of planning, research and statistics in the MDAs. The DPRS could then serve as the effective policy hub that mediates the articulation of the demands of decision science and big data around the dynamics of data culture, data availability and action research capacity to interpret such data as input to policy and feedback.
Each DPRS will have to recruit, train and incentivize new officers who will be put in charge of regulating the new innovation. It is not just enough to innovate; it must be a guarded reform that is founded on a blueprint of how artificial intelligence, machine learning, data science and new technologies factor into the governance and development objectives of the Nigerian government. This will necessitate, for example, collaborating with research-based think tanks and institutes in ways that further enhance the quality of policy decision and the data dynamics needed to formulate policy intelligence.
The biggest requirement for harnessing the requirements of decision science is the political will of governments to go all out in traversing the challenges of institutional reforms, and especially of exploring and exploiting the intricacies of big data analytics in terms of its capacity to improve decision-making and the efficiency of service delivery to Nigerians. There is just no other alternative to the transformation of the policy architecture of the Nigerian government than the political willingness to become proactive in the institutional reform of the public service. Given the economic and governance challenges that the administration is confronting, the reality of the time is really auspicious with regard to the reform opportunities that global best practices have presented the Nigerian government with. There is no alternative to reform, and decision science is the opportunity to make it work for democratic governance.
No matter how anyone tries to rationalise the obtuse economic reforms of the Tinubu administration, the most searing no confidence vote in their sustainability has been passed by the president himself when the presidency announced that it was no longer sustainable for the Aso Rock Villa to continue paying the yearly N47 billion ‘Band A’ electricity tariff.
Aso Rock’s move which jolted many is coming on the heels of increasingly unreliable public power supply, even as the cost soars for both households and government institutions.
In 2024, the Abuja Electricity Distribution Company which said the Presidential Villa owed a bill of N923.87 million issued a 10-day notice to Nigeria’s seat of government and 86 MDAs to pay the combined debt of N47.1 billion or risk disconnection, hence the presidency’s bid to opt out of the national grid.
This seismic, albeit shameless shift, an abdication of responsibility that only a Tinubu-led government can conjure without batting an eye was announced when the Director-General of the Energy Commission of Nigeria, Mustapha Abdullahi, defended the Federal Government’s decision to install a N10 billion solar power grid at the presidential villa to serve the president’s residence, administrative buildings, and other essential facilities within the Aso Rock complex.
Abdullahi said President Tinubu approved the solar power grid as part of efforts to reduce the cost of governance and promote cleaner, more sustainable energy use.
“It is unsustainable for the Aso Rock Villa to continue paying about N47 billion yearly in power bills. This is why Mr. President approved the deployment of a solar power grid within the Villa… This initiative will not only ensure uninterrupted and clean energy supply to the seat of power but will also stimulate job creation and foster innovation among Nigerian engineers and energy experts,” he said.
He may well say that to the marines. As The Punch newspaper noted in its April 28, 2025 editorial, the decision more than anything else, is the clearest admission so far by the Tinubu government that Nigeria’s power sector is in ruins. Worse still, it advertises the fact that the leaders are more interested in insulating themselves from the consequences of the ruins than fixing it.
Yet, some of the administration’s vuvuzelas, adept at gaslighting fellow citizens, amplified the senseless rhetoric. Shortly after Abdullahi’s disclosure, Bayo Onanuga, Tinubu’s media adviser, said the move was in tandem with global best practices in sustainable energy use for government facilities.
Citing the U.S., Onanuga wrote: “The White House in Washington D.C. uses solar power,” in what amounted to comparing apples and oranges even as he failed to address public concerns about the cost of the project at a time Nigeria is facing, perhaps, its worst economic woes.
But such a needless parallel stretches the limits of falsehood because it goes without saying that while the adoption of renewable energy by the U.S. at the White House is driven by environmental consciousness, the Nigerian equivalence is informed by the collapse of the country’s energy system and, therefore, Aso Rock’s decision to port to solar rather than addressing the country’s existential power crisis holistically smacks of abdication of responsibility.
The only truth in what the government said is the unsustainability of the unconscionable electricity tariff hike. It is as unsustainable for Aso Rock as it is for ordinary Nigerians. Besides, if Tinubu, the country’s number one citizen, has decided to abandon the electricity grid to generate his own electricity for Aso Rock, what then is the fate of Nigerians?
Of course, what Aso Rock disingenuously refused to admit is that the country’s seat of power is tactically extricating itself from the outrageous electricity tariff it whimsically imposed on Nigerians by classifying consumers into different bands with ‘Band A’ representing the highest level.
Since the classification, electricity costs have continued to soar, especially for ‘Band A’ consumers. In April 2024, tariffs for Band A consumers surged from N68/kWh to N225/kWh, representing an increase of over 230 per cent. Although this was later adjusted to N206.8/kWh and then slightly to N209.5/kWh in July, it remains the highest energy cost brackets in the country. With that institutions such as State Houses, which fall within ‘Band A’ have seen their electricity bills increase dramatically.
Before the classification, N100,000 fetches 1,488.8Kwh of electricity. With the classification, the same N100,000 can only purchase 443.8Kwh for ‘Band A’ customers. The implication is that even for a family in a two-bedroom apartment with the most basic household appliances, that can hardly last for two weeks. So, on the average, families paying the ‘Band A’ tariff spend at least N200,000 on electricity every month. For most people, that is unsustainable.
The Nigerian Electricity Regulatory Commission, NERC, said the rational for the new tariff regime was to ensure the efficient and sustainable operation of the power sector, particularly for DisCos serving areas with higher levels of electricity supply. Efficient and sustainable operation will mean recovering adequate revenue to cover investments, operational costs, and providing a reasonable return on investments, as well as improving the quality of service. The higher tariff, NERC further claimed, was also intended to encourage investment in the power sector and address issues like dip in generation.
None of these has happened. There is no improvement in the quality of service and the promise that customers can expect more reliable and consistent electricity supply has been observed in the breach. The higher tariffs, which the Minister of Power, Adebayo Adelabu, claimed would make investments in the power sector more attractive to private investors, has not achieved that.
Instead, it has achieved quite the opposite with those who have the capacity abandoning the national grid and opting for alternative power supply. Instead of the Eldorado the government promised, the high tariffs have significantly increased the cost of manufacturing in Nigeria, so much so that the Manufacturers Association of Nigeria, MAN, is lamenting that manufacturers spent N1.11 trillion on alternative energy in 2024, a 42 per cent increase from the previous year.
The report, titled “MAN Economic Review for the Second Half of 2024,” showed that energy-related costs rose by 42.3 per cent from the N781.68 billion recorded in 2023. The report added that soaring energy costs, inflationary pressures, and exchange rate volatility contributed to surging production costs, scaling back of investments by manufacturers and low consumer demand. All these hindrances, consequences of Tinubu’s fabled reforms, impeded industrial growth and productivity.
Recently, StatiSense, an AI data company, said Tinubu’s economic reforms that include hikes in electricity tariffs have wiped away 48.3 per cent of Nigeria’s economy in just two years. According to the report, Nigeria’s GDP in 2023, before the present administration came to power, was $363.82 billion, but in 2025, it has declined to $188.27 billion. Even the World Bank, which is always at the forefront of defending Tinubu’s crippling reforms, was honest this time to predict that more Nigerians will become poor by 2027.
Last month, the Deputy Governor of Lagos State, Obafemi Hamzat, lamented that electricity bill in his official house jumped from N2.7 million in March to N29 million in April, over 974 per cent hike, calling it, like Aso Rock did, unsustainable.
If Lagos State and Federal Government, the two richest entities in Nigeria, are not only calling the ‘Band A’ electricity bills unsustainable, but opting out of the national grid, then consider the plight of ordinary Nigerians.
Truth be told, the ‘Band A’ electricity tariff is, perhaps, the worst injustice the Tinubu government has inflicted on Nigerians. It is a fraud. In the first place, no one is getting the promised 20-hour electricity supply. Even MAN claims that the most its members got in 2024 was a daily 13.3-hour supply, an improvement from the 10.6 hours in 2023, though, but a far cry from the promised 20 hours. It is unsustainable as Tinubu himself knows and has acknowledged, hence the N10 billion solar project. For the sake of those who cannot afford such humongous solar project, the ‘Band A’ electricity fraud must stop.
On May 22, 1973, the military government of Yakubu Gowon instituted the National Youth Service Corps (NYSC) by Decree No. 22. This took place in the context of the unrest and fragmentation that led up to and was exacerbated by the civil war after which reconciliation and reconstruction were supposedly taking place. The NYSC was created as a vehicle to aid in that reconciliation process, targeting young people, with the ideal outcome being the creation of ties amongst Nigerians such that national unity would be promoted. To do this, the NYSC posts the graduates of tertiary institutions to a state other than that of their state of origin where they are expected to remain for the one-year duration of the programme. During this time, corps members or “corpers” are posted to places of primary assignment (PPAs) and they participate in various avenues of community development under the Community Development Scheme (CDS) of the programme. All of this constitutes their one-year, mandatory service to the nation.
While incredibly idealistic in its outlook, like any Nigerian ventures, the NYSC is not without its issues. In fact, the case can be made that the scheme is riddled with more problems than its total utility to the nation. For many people, the NYSC is just the next thing to tick off the list, a chore to be carried out. After more than five decades of the scheme, there is very little to show in terms of national unity and/or social development in the nation. Today, the NYSC perhaps stands as an example of some sunk cost fallacy, a scheme that probably has no place in its current state in the modern-day nation of Nigeria and there are a few reasons why.
One of the things the NYSC hopes to do is to inculcate patriotism into those who join its ranks. However, everyone with functioning observational skills can see that the nation gives particularly young people reasons to not be so patriotic or at least ambivalent with respect to the topic of loving one’s country. So, what does the NYSC do to remedy this? A North Korea-esque campaign of hammering patriotism into the minds of those who become corps members. At the orientation camps which can perhaps be referred to as benign versions of “re-education camps”, the NYSC ceaselessly spews what can only be described as pro-patriotic propaganda, an attempt at the indoctrination of corps members which requires them to disregard the observation of their eyes and ears and to eschew good judgement and to profess love for the nation above all else.
This is so pervasive in the scheme that it affects the things corps members are allowed to publicly say, with camp officials repeatedly emphasising that corpers must only speak of Nigeria in a good light, never to criticise the nation, never to criticise public officers. In many ways, this messaging and its dictates mirrors the plight of a helpless wife in an abusive marriage who is not allowed to freely speak of her husband’s abuse of her. Contravening the NYSC’s “rules” in the matter of what can and cannot be said, carry steep penalties for the individuals involved. Some of the justifications given as to why corps members must only speak good includes the notion that “even developed countries have slums and they only show us the good parts”, as though most of Nigeria isn’t an eyesore to any person who has had the opportunity to see and/or experience better. The policy of muzzling and/or directing the speech of corps members is rich coming from a scheme that regularly sends young people into literal wildernesses that are barely touched by government benevolence and expecting those individuals to have overwhelmingly positive things to say about the country and its government.
The most recent, widely known example of the NYSC’s speech smothering tactics was the case of Raye, a Lagos state corps member who protested the cost-of-living crisis in Nigeria online and was met with the immediate fury of NYSC authorities. The NYSC constantly admonishes corps members to “not use social media”, or to only “use social media in a way that speaks positively about Nigeria”. No fair criticisms by corps members are tolerated – a corper isn’t even allowed to simply openly acknowledge a bad situation such as the terribly cramped and often inhumane conditions in the orientation camps that one would really only see in refugee camps.
During the first phase of the service year, the orientation program, corpers are mandated to participate in the Skills Acquisition and Entrepreneurship Development program where of different, often informal skills are taught, all within a 2-week window at best. These skills include tailoring, beadmaking, catering, graphics design and so many more. Needless to say, for a person who has never been trained in any one of those skills, 2 weeks is an inadequately short period of time to gain any sort of proficiency that can allow for commercial success. Furthermore, introducing a program like SAED at the NYSC level, illustrates further the depths to which the Nigerian establishment has failed to invest in the future of its youth. How is this the case?
Well, in secondary schools in Nigeria, it is mandated that all students take a trade subject, the rationale being that it would begin the process of cultivating an entrepreneurial mindset in young people and give them something to fall back on should they be unable to proceed to tertiary institutions or to get formal employment. All fair and good in its intentions. However, upon proceeding to tertiary education, entrepreneurship is taught as a course in much of the curriculum in universities. In some cases, students would encounter entrepreneurship as a course more than once during their university education. The rationale again, is to give students the skills to start businesses after their education should they be unable to obtain formal employment. After having done a trade subject in secondary school, taken entrepreneurship courses at least once in tertiary institutions, young Nigerians proceed to the NYSC and there, SAED is waiting to be forced down their throats.
Over the course of the orientation program, NYSC officials make it a point to remind corps members that their degrees and/or diplomas are essentially worthless and that they must take up a skill or two to rescue themselves from economic ruin. Statements like “Bachelors na water”, or “Having a certificate does not guarantee a job” are incredibly common, belittling the years spent struggling through Nigeria’s often dysfunctional education system, telling people that most of that struggle was likely for naught. While there is no issue with acknowledging the dire state of Nigeria’s labour market per se, the continuous parroting of this pro-entrepreneurial propaganda by the NYSC and other levels of Nigeria’s ruling establishment is a tacit admission of the country’s failure to secure the future of its youth and a surreptitious reminder to young people that they are on their own.
Central to the NYSC scheme is the primary assignment, the organisation wherein the corps member will be employed for most of the service year. The NYSC says that they try their best to match places of primary assignment to the disciplines of individual corps members but the reality couldn’t be further from the truth. There are a variety of reasons why including the fact that there just aren’t enough opportunities available to absorb the numbers of people coming out of tertiary institutions every year on the basis of discipline alone. Furthermore, a lot of important facets of Nigerian society are, odd as it may sound, lacking in manpower, chief amongst which is education, especially in the suburbs and in rural areas. These factors make it so that the vast majority of corps members are posted by the NYSC to carry out their primary assignments as teachers in schools across the country.
It also should be noted the ethics of such postings are questionable. The vast majority of graduates did not train to be teachers and the NYSC offers no such training to corps members – how could it? Thus, employing thousands of people to be teachers despite no formal training in that regard is a quite suspect, perhaps dangerous practice. Furthermore, it seems to imply that the position of the NYSC as to the teaching profession is that it is one that requires almost no training and hence is a low skill occupation – just about anyone can do it. This couldn’t be further from the truth, of course, the teaching profession is one that demands a lot of attention and professionalism but the NYSC, the education sector and school owners are perfectly fine with having untrained individuals carry out the job of dispensing education.
The issue with the NYSC and the labour of the people under its employ doesn’t just end at questionable postings, it also can be looked at as a state sanctioned exploitative scheme. Thousands of young people, sent to states where they aren’t resident for one year, while being paid a monthly allowance that’s barely $50 today and only mandating employers of corps members to provide accommodation or an allowance in lieu as well as transportation without requiring them to pay actual salaries for the roles the corps members occupy within those organisations. Even the requirements of employers to provide accommodation or an allowance in lieu is often not adhered to and when it is, the allowances are barely able to cover the purpose for which they are given. But the NYSC is mandatory for all graduates of universities and polytechnics and so, there’s not a lot of ways to wriggle out of it even with the knowledge of these absurd conditions. In other words, the NYSC and its partner organizations are able to extract labour without fair compensation on a nationwide scale which essentially constitutes exploitation.
The goal to encourage intercultural ties and integration amongst Nigeria’s youth is the foremost focus of the NYSC. It has been over 5 decades of the scheme and one cannot necessarily point to its successes on a societal level. It can even be said that many of the suspicions and animosity many Nigerian ethnic groups have towards each other have only deepened in all this time. One can say that Nigeria is not any more integrated and/or united today than it was at the founding of the scheme and that the only thing preventing a large-scale conflict on the level of the Civil War is the inability of aggrieved or agitating groups to organise effectively. Perhaps the percentage of Nigerians who participate in the NYSC is far too little for the effect of integration from the scheme to have any real perceptible effect on the general situation of Nigerian cohesion.
The nation needs to have serious conversations on the scheme and its place in the current day. Perhaps, the NYSC can be reformed, as it should be rather than an outright scrapping. But it is important to evaluate its rather imperceptible successes, if any at all and scrutinize its glaring issues. This is Nigeria, however. Not much is certain to change regardless.
In his book, ‘From Opposition to Governing Party: Nigeria’s APC Merger Story’, Dr Ogbonnaya Onu (now of blessed memory) discussed the delicate negotiations that eventually culminated in the registration of the APC. Each of the merging parties and groups came with their own proposals, especially regarding the party’s acronym. “Each emerging partner wanted the new name to be as close as possible to its old name. In accepting the new name, each merging partner became satisfied only when it contributed at least one word. In accepting the name, All Progressives Congress (APC), the Action Congress of Nigeria (ACN) was satisfied that it contributed ‘Congress’. The All Nigeria Peoples Party (ANPP) was happy that it contributed ‘All’. Even though ‘All’ had only three letters, it was the leading word in the new name. The Congress for Progressive Change (CPC) felt satisfied that it contributed ‘Progressives’. Also, the All Progressives Grand Alliance (APGA) was satisfied that it contributed ‘All Progressives,’” wrote Onu. “The acronym, APC, became acceptable because all merging partners saw a bit of themselves in it. Most of them contributed two of the letters. None contributed more…”
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The foregoing, excerpted from my 2017 book, ‘Against The Run of Play: How an Incumbent President was Defeated in Nigeria’, tells a compelling story about political parties in Nigeria. If the discussions that succeeded in unseating an incumbent president in 2015 were not about issues but rather the party’s acronym, should anybody be surprised about the current situation in the country? The more unfortunate thing is that almost every day, our politicians reinforce the fact that party platforms mean nothing to them. With that, we have ended up with a multiplicity of political parties that are mere aggregations of strange bedfellows, simply for the purpose of securing power.
On Monday, while defecting from the main opposition Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) under which platform he won the 2023 general election to the ruling APC, Governor Sheriff Oborevwori anchored his decision on the ‘love’ President Bola Tinubu “has shown to us in Delta State”. Aside from the presidential ‘love’ that required reciprocity ahead of 2027, the governor also alluded to the presence of fellow governors at the ceremony to justify his decision. “This is a movement, this is not a defection; we (governors) have agreed we will move together and when we move together, what is at the national we will be able to grab it.”
Nigerian politicians are very good when it comes to ‘grabbing’ all sorts of things! Incidentally, in grabbing the APC platform which he now leads in the state by virtue of the party’s convention, Oborevwori has pushed aside former Deputy Senate President, Ovie Omo-Agege who was the APC flagbearer in the last election. Nobody would be surprised if Omo-Agege also defects to the PDP where he began his political journey and ‘grab’ the party’s ticket in 2027. There is a precedent to that. Godwin Obaseki won the September 2016 gubernatorial election in Edo State on the platform of the APC. He defeated Osagie Ize-Iyamu, then the PDP candidate. Four years later, in 2020, after he was edged out of the APC, Obaseki pushed Ize-Iyamu aside to grab the PDP ticket. Within a matter of days, Ize-Iyamu also grabbed the APC gubernatorial ticket!
Meanwhile, with its power of patronage, APC is only copying what the PDP did in the past. Some of us can remember that in 1999, the PDP won the presidency, 241 of the 360 seats in the House of Representatives, 71 of the 109 senatorial seats, and its members were elected governors in 21 of the 36 states. Four years later, with politicians from other parties trooping in for their slices of the federal pie, PDP won the governorship elections in 28 of the 36 states and 76 senatorial seats. Now the tide has turned. From 11 governors two years ago, PDP has been shrinking. After Delta State, Akwa Ibom may soon follow with Governor Umo Eno speaking in parables about deboarding from ‘a faulty aircraft’ to enter ‘a different plane’ in the coming days. There are reports of others also plotting the same move.
Ordinarily, procedures as to how people should obtain power and how they can be replaced is what distinguishes democracy from other forms of government. Political parties are central to this, with their principal role of aggregating ideas on how to solve the problems of society. But in Nigeria, political parties essentially represent the personal interests of powerful individuals with the primary motivation to ‘grab’ power. Invariably, what should serve as platforms for constructive engagement on how to meet the aspirations of the people have become mere vehicles for trading positions between and among politicians and their cronies/family members.
Even in smaller African countries, political parties are more than mere platforms for winning elections. But in a milieu in which public service has been reduced to ‘eating’, as I wrote last December after Ghana’s presidential election which revealed the strength of their political parties, a Nigerian politician could be a PDP member in the morning, decamp to the LP or SDP in the afternoon and by evening, be attending the APC meeting as the board of trustees’ chairman. “Rarely in Ghana do you see people moving from one party to another with every general election,” the Independent National Electoral (INEC) Chairman, Mahmood Yakubu said while wading in on this same issue last year. “There are people who have supported political parties for many years. So, whether the party is in power or opposition, they stick to the political party.”
For all the noise about recent defections, this has been the pattern of our politics in recent years. As former Delta State Governor and PDP presidential running mate in the 2023 general election, Ifeanyi Okowa reminded former Senate President Bukola Saraki on Tuesday, no Nigerian politician can cast a stone when it comes to jumping from one party to another. Okowa is right. There is hardly any politician in the country today who has been in the same political party since 1999. When it comes to political parties, they have all adopted a nomadic disposition, jumping from one to another based on cold calculations about which would be the easier route to power. That perhaps explains why the primaries to secure the tickets of these parties are no more than bazaars for the highest bidders. But for our democracy to survive and thrive, things must change.
To wean the country of this transactional ethos in politics, we need to have a conversation about the minimal expectation of governance, and the values that should drive public office. And that cannot be done without reforming the political parties.
Osinachi, Homicide and Matters Arising
The three-year trial in the death of popular gospel singer, Osinachi Nwachukwu, was concluded on Monday with the conviction of her husband, Peter Nwachukwu. While sentencing him to death by hanging, Justice Njideka Nwosu-Iheme of the FCT High Court relied on oral testimonies of 17 witnesses during the trial (among whom were two children of the couple) as well as documentary evidence.
In the homicide charge against Nwachukwu, he was accused of forcefully ejecting the late Osinachi from their home, contrary to the Violence Against Persons, VAP (Prohibition) Act, 2015. He was also accused of pushing the late Osinachi out of a moving vehicle, restraining her movement and locking her up in the house while denying her access to her money for medication and household necessities. He reportedly forced her into begging and borrowing to survive. Nwachukwu was also accused of subjecting his deceased wife to emotional, verbal and psychological abuse, even as he prevented her mother and siblings from visiting their home. Nwachukwu was further charged for cruelly beating his children (two of whom testified against him in court), recording their cry and playing it on his phone. While all this was going on, Nwachukwu was said to have threatened the children from reporting acts of violence against their mother to Dr Paul Enenche, the Senior Pastor of Dunamis International Gospel Centre (where he and late wife worshipped) or any other person.
This is a tragedy that might have been averted. From what transpired after Osinachi’s death on 8th April 2022, many were aware of the violence to which she was subjected by her husband. But apparently because of the patriarchal nature of our society, she had to endure the abuse until she paid the supreme price. With many people putting the blame on churches where forgiveness and reconciliation are often recommended in cases of domestic abuse, Enenche publicly exonerated himself. The General Overseer of the Omega Fire Ministries International, Apostle Johnson Suleman, also waded in by prescribing a novel solution to such challenge. “All those women that their husbands are beating, don’t they have brothers? If they don’t have biological brothers, they have Christian brothers,” Apostle Suleman told his congregation at the time. “If you are in this church and you are beating your wife, stop it. If she reports you to me, we will beat you. I will go to the police station and take permission before I gather brothers in this church to beat you.”
Following Nwachukwu’s conviction and sentence, some commentators have expressed concerns about the issue of death penalty in Nigeria. But they miss the critical issue – the growing number of lives that have been lost to domestic violence. It is something we must take more seriously. Four years ago, following the reconciliation between a battered wife and her journalist husband at the instance of then Benue State Governor, Sam Ortom, I made my position clear on this issue. The woman had posted her battered and bruised face on social media (X and WhatsApp) before Ortom and members of the Benue State Executive Council intervened to ‘reconcile’ the couple after which a public statement was released. While I had no problem with the reconciliation, I nonetheless raised several pertinent issues in that column, https://www.thisdaylive.com/index.php/2020/12/17/re-ortom-and-the-wife-beater/ which interested readers can access.
The fear of being ostracized and the general lack of sympathy for divorced women have contributed immensely to the growth of domestic violence in Nigerian homes, I wrote in the column which underscored many of the things our mothers endured. Unfortunately, the prevalent culture of stigmatization and cajoling the wife to return to the batterer, without addressing the deep-seated issues that continue to disrupt family life so violently, has only resulted in tragedies like that of the late Osinachi.
We cannot continue to perpetuate the notion that women should assume a preponderance of responsibility for making their marriage work. This absolves husbands of their concomitant duty of love, support and care. In the Osinachi case, the tragedy is compounded by the traumatic experience of the children who saw their mother being violently abused by their father and the role they have now played in bringing him to justice.
For no fault of theirs, the lives of those children have been turned upside down. If care is not taken, they could end up being further victimised by a society where the line between right and wrong has been completely blurred. I hope they have the needed support at this most difficult period in their lives.
If this headline looks strange to you, I borrowed it from my friend and colleague, PUNCH columnist, Lekan Shote. See Lekan’s “This article has no title” of 19 March, 2025! There are occasions one struggles to headline a piece but the right choice of words keeps eluding one. So why not borrow a leaf from Lekan by simply saying, “This article has no title”! Or I can add my own angle, like I have done here, by asking the reader to affix whatever title he deems appropriate!
Published here today is Idowu Ephraim Faleye’s article titled “When your seat becomes the target of your competitors, your performance doesn’t inspire - it infuriates!”. Reading it, I laughed and laughed but it also gave me food for thought. How true! I have experienced it again and again. And only those who don’t mind throwing the baby away with the bathwater will not agree with the points made by Faleye. Excerpts:
“When the seat you occupy is the target of your competitors, there is nothing you can do to please those who are contending for the seat. It doesn’t matter how hard you try or how sincere your intentions are; they will always find a reason to complain. Your good deeds will be questioned, your motives will be misinterpreted, and your achievements will be viewed through the lens of suspicion. This is the bitter reality of political rivalry where ambition clouds appreciation and success becomes a threat.
"Imagine someone eyeing your job at work. No matter how much you excel, they’re not going to clap for you. Instead, your promotion becomes a source of bitterness. That’s exactly how political opponents behave when they want the seat you are occupying. They don’t see your achievements as progress but as obstacles to their (own) ambition. The more you do, the more uncomfortable they become. The more you deliver, the harder they work to discredit you because every milestone you hit weakens their case against you.
"This isn’t unique to Nigeria. Across the world, when leaders occupy powerful positions, their seats attract envy and ambition. The unfortunate truth is that many people don’t want to build; they (only) want to inherit. They don’t want to contribute to solutions; they want to reap the benefits of being in charge. So instead of supporting the incumbent to succeed, they work tirelessly to ensure he fails. That way, they can say, 'We told you he couldn’t do it.'
"What makes this worse is that some members of the public, driven by hardship or misinformation, join the bandwagon. They forget that governing a nation or state is not a magic show. It requires patience, planning, and consistency. When a leader is making tough decisions that may not look glamorous at the moment, it is easy to misunderstand him if you’re not seeing the full picture. And unfortunately, opposition figures capitalize on this. They spread narratives that fit their ambition, not the truth.
"It is not wrong to aspire for leadership, but ambition must be guided by ethics. Politics should be about service, not sabotage. If your only strategy to win is to ensure the current leader fails, then your motive is not leadership—it is conquest. We cannot build a great nation on the back of envy and destruction. We must rise above partisan hatred and see governance as a collective responsibility.
"As we reflect on our roles as citizens, commentators, and stakeholders, let us remember that politics is not war. It is not a game of who can destroy whom. It is a platform for service. When we understand this, we will start to hold our leaders accountable with dignity, not with hatred. We will begin to see that supporting good policies, no matter who introduces them, is not weakness but wisdom.
"Let us rise as a people who can separate ambition from truth. Let us not be pawns in the hands of those who seek power at all costs. And to the leaders under fire today, remember: even when your seat is the target, do not be distracted. Lead with courage. Lead with conscience. Because in the end, it is not the noise of your opponents that will define you, but the testimony of your impact. And that, history never forgets.”
Do you disagree with anything he has said here? I can tell you the only reason some would agree or even took the pains to read this to the very end is because, to make even the jaundiced to read it, I removed the two examples Faleye cited in his beautiful piece: President Bola Ahmed Tinubu and Gov. Biodun Abayomi Oyebanji of Ekiti state, whose performance he considers to be so far, so good! Not that I disagree with his judgment, though! Some in position of leadership make no effort to lead at all. Those seen to be making efforts deserve encouragement, which, I think, is what Faleye strove to do here. Not resting on their oars, Tinubu and Oyebanji should continue to strive to do more because it is not yet "uhuru".
FEEDBACK on “Why was everything about Jesus made so controversial”?
Thanks for this brilliant piece. I really enjoyed it. All the areas touched are certainly very interesting, and I agree with your observations. I spent four years in Israel as a diplomat, 1994-1998. I saw the three Abrahamic religions - Judaism, Christianity, and Islam - at close quarters; and the potential of these Abrahamic faiths as a force for good or evil. The story of the historical and mythical Jesus gives room for a lot of controversy. Even the various locations of his birth, crucifixion, and burial are all shrouded in controversy. In the final analysis, it is always a function of just accepting what you are told by the tour guide, stay at that perceived holy ground, and saying your prayers with the belief that God or Jesus has answered.
You will be shocked when you go into a Jewish Yeshiva and see young people studying the Hebrew Bible and the Torah. They tell you they have never heard of Jesus Christ and Christianity because the Hebrew Bible does not have the Synoptic Gospel (Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John), which details the account of the life and times of Jesus Christ. So, the book of Isaiah talking about an Emmanuel that is to come is not Jesus Christ. The Saviour that will redeem the captive Israel is yet to come!
When I asked them why they refused to be Christian and accept Christ as the son of God, they asked me to tell them something about Buddhism, Confucianism and Shintoism (the Japanese religion). I said I knew nothing about them. They then said, "Why do you want us to know anything about Christ and Christianity?" They remind you that Christianity got a political push and the Roman Empire took over their land. Later, the Ottoman Empire did the same and then the British took over.
Through all of these periods, Jews have been killed and persecuted by powers for millennia (remember the Crusaders) on account of the accusation that it was the Jews that killed and crucified Jesus. They said that all they want now is that they should be left alone to practice their faith and live their life! And I agree with them to some extent, so long as they remain as the State of Israel composed of Jews, Moslems, Christians etc; not the Jewish State of Israel which is driving the current genocide in Gaza by the State of Israel and the Netanyahu government.
Overall, faith is a personal thing. Each of us had our Epiphany at one time in our history as we grew up old enough to select our path and make our spiritual choices. It is sad what organized religion has become in our country, and that is why I truly agree with Karl Marx that religion is the opium of our people, at least we can say that for our country. We have unfortunately lost the road to salvation with the way our leaders in the Christian and Moslem communities - and even traditional religious leaders - are carrying on! - Ayo Olukanni.
“All that you have is your soul”. This thought hit home when I watched that short film: The pale blue dot! - Ezekiel Odeyemi.
NB: Thank you, Sir, for sharing the film by Carl Sagan (1990). I enjoin everyone to search for the film and give their soul good, quality food.
Thank you for the boldness to raise vital questions about Christianity, unlike the preaching that "faith believes and questions not how". A Revd Vicar once told me my faith was not strong enough because questions I raised portrayed me more as a philosopher than a Christian! Please pray for me, a poor sinner! - Gboyega Amobonye.
Going through this particular piece and reflecting back on others, I can't but imagine how much academics is missing in people like you! Just fancy the depth of your argument, your objectivity, the allusions, the conclusion, in fact, all! I am aware that varsities in the US and perhaps other climes have provision for what is called Professor of Practice whereby people who have made an impressive mark in the professions are co-opted into the academics to impart their skills, knowledge, and experience in students, which perfectly blends the theoretical with the practical. With that in mind, the (relevant departments in our universities) would be so blessed to have your type on board teaching creative writing and other related courses to their students. It is one innovation that I would wish the likes of Prof. Ṣiyan Oyewẹsọ can push through and get the managers of our educational system to adopt. - Abiodun Adefioye.
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[OPINION] Why The Masses Will Suffer Most When FG Suddenly Ban Importation Of Solar Panels - Isaac Asabor
AdminIn a country where access to electricity is more a privilege than a right, solar energy has become the last hope of the common man. From small barbershops and tailoring sheds to community health centers and low-income homes, solar panels now dot the rooftops of the forgotten corners of Nigeria, silently powering lives the national grid has long abandoned.
So, when the federal government, through the Minister of Innovation, Science and Technology, Chief Uche Nnaji, recently announced plans to ban the importation of solar panels, citing the need to promote local production, it sent shockwaves through the renewable energy sector. And rightly so.
The Renewable Energy Association of Nigeria (REAN) has since rejected the move, warning that the decision, if implemented in haste, would be catastrophic. Their warning is not rooted in opposition to local industry development. On the contrary, REAN supports local manufacturing. But they understand a fundamental truth that seems to have eluded the corridors of power: you do not cripple a lifeline before building an alternative.
At the heart of this policy debate lies a harsh, glaring reality, millions of Nigerians are living off-grid. These are people who have given up on the promises of the national power sector. With over 85 million Nigerians lacking access to grid electricity according to the World Bank, solar energy has grown into a people-powered solution. It is not just an energy alternative; it is a survival mechanism.
In urban slums and rural villages, solar panels power water pumps, charge phones, light up homes, run refrigerators for drug storage, and keep small businesses afloat. To abruptly ban solar panel imports is to literally switch off that light.
Let us be clear: promoting local manufacturing is a noble and commendable goal. But doing so by slamming the doors on imports overnight is an economic and social miscalculation.
The government’s logic, anchored on Executive Order No. 5 and a belief that local entities like NASENI (National Agency for Science and Engineering Infrastructure) can meet the country’s solar demand, is optimistic at best and misleading at worst. Even if NASENI has commenced production, the reality is that local capacity is grossly insufficient to meet the surging demand. Most of the private sector players are still at infancy or pilot stages. To throw the entire burden of supply on them would be suicidal, for the industry and for consumers.
Besides, local production is not built in a vacuum. It needs time, investment, skilled labor, technology transfer, infrastructure, and financing, all of which are still lacking or underdeveloped in the current Nigerian context. Cutting off imports before strengthening these pillars is akin to pulling the ladder while asking people to climb.
Given the foregoing, it is germane to ask, “Who Bears the Brunt?” The answer to the foregoing question cannot be farfetched as it is not the policymakers in Abuja or the well-connected contractors that will feel the heat. It is the poor. The market woman who needs her solar lantern to sell tomatoes after sunset, the schoolchildren who use solar-powered lamps to study, the hospital in a remote area relying on solar power to store vaccines, the barber whose entire business model rests on uninterrupted energy, these are the ones who will pay the price.
In fact, banning solar imports without affordable alternatives in place will cause a price surge. Local producers, without economies of scale, will initially charge higher prices. Imported panels, even with shipping and duties, are currently cheaper and more accessible for many Nigerians. If only locally produced panels are allowed, supply shortages and inflated prices are inevitable.
And let us not forget that this planned abrupt ban could deter investors. The renewable energy sector has been one of the few bright spots in Nigeria’s gloomy economic landscape. It has attracted innovation, foreign partnerships, and youth employment. A hasty, poorly coordinated import ban signals policy instability, a red flag for investors.
There is a smarter, more sustainable way to achieve the same end goal without burning the bridge Nigerians are currently walking on. The government must gradually phase out solar panel imports, not slam the door shut. This can be done through import quotas that shrink annually, giving local producers time to scale, tax incentives, grants, and subsidies for local solar panel manufacturer and, encouraging joint ventures between foreign solar firms and local producers to facilitate technology transfer and training.
Other ways of phasing out solar panel imports include, Investments in research, development, and infrastructure to support scalable and competitive manufacturing as well as a transparent timeline and stakeholder consultation, to allow for industry preparation and adjustment.
This dual-track approach, supporting local growth while keeping the market open, will help Nigeria transition into self-sufficiency without sacrificing the immediate needs of the people.
It is tempting for leaders to chase the optics of nationalism: “Made in Nigeria”, “Buy Naija to grow the Naira”, and the like. But policies must be anchored on the realities of the moment, not aspirations alone. There is a difference between wishful policymaking and strategic planning. Nigeria is in an energy emergency, and solar has become the people’s fallback. This is not the time to impose restrictions without safeguards.
In truth, the conversation should not be about banning imports but about reducing dependence gradually while strengthening local capacity. That cannot happen overnight. To pretend otherwise is to gamble with the energy security of millions.
The poor cannot afford policy experiments. They are not in boardrooms; they are on the margins, hustling to survive each day. Solar energy has been their silent partner in that struggle. To threaten it with a sudden ban is to betray the very people the government claims to serve.
Yes, we must grow our local industries. But we must do so without crushing the poor under the weight of bad timing. A well-planned transition is possible. But only if the government listens, reflects, and acts with empathy.
Because if we get it wrong, the lights would not just go out, they may not come back on.
When Justice Nwosu-Iheme of the FCT High Court in Abuja sentenced Peter Nwachukwu, husband of late gospel music star, Osinachi Nwachukwu, to death by hanging, the courtroom was not just delivering a verdict. It was sending an unmistakable message across the length and breadth of Nigeria: domestic violence has consequences, and the law is ready to bite.
The ruling, based on 23-count charges ranging from culpable homicide to spousal battery, has reverberated through Nigerian society, touching on everything from marital dynamics to the need for real enforcement of laws protecting women. For too long, many Nigerian wives have suffered in silence behind the high walls of “marital privacy.” Today, those walls have been shattered.
At this juncture, it is germane to recall that when Osinachi Nwachukwu’s death made headlines in April 2022, the public was initially fed half-truths. It was rumored that she died of throat cancer, a narrative peddled perhaps to shield the husband’s guilt. However, when insiders, friends, and eventually her own children began to talk, the monstrous reality emerged: Osinachi was a long-time victim of domestic violence.
The talented songstress, who blessed millions with her soul-stirring voice, particularly through her hit song “Ekwueme”, lived a tormented life at home. According to testimonies in court, Peter Nwachukwu subjected his wife to repeated physical abuse, threats, emotional manipulation, and terror.
It was not just hearsay. Seventeen witnesses, including two of their children, gave harrowing accounts of how Peter beat, strangled, and tormented his wife behind closed doors. They described a man who wielded fear as a weapon, using violence as his twisted way of control. Exhibits, medical reports, and credible witness statements combined to form an ironclad case against him.
Justice Nwosu-Iheme’s judgment was not rushed. It came after careful consideration of evidence and painstaking legal proceedings. And when the gavel finally fell, sentencing Peter to death by hanging for culpable homicide, the court was not merely punishing one man, it was warning every potential wife-beater across Nigeria: Your days of impunity are over.
In a country where many domestic violence cases are either swept under the rug or handled through family meetings and religious interventions, the sentencing marks a turning point. Nigerian society often glorifies the suffering of women in marriage, urging them to “endure” for the sake of children, church image, or family honor. Osinachi endured. And she paid the ultimate price.
Peter Nwachukwu’s death sentence reminds the public that the law, not family sentiments, governs life and death. It says clearly that no one has the right to brutalize their spouse, not under cultural excuses, not under religious pretexts, and certainly not under the guise of male authority.
The court’s decision should serve as a huge wake-up call. It underscores the urgent need to deconstruct the toxic narrative that a woman must suffer to be considered a “good wife.” Endurance in marriage should never be synonymous with accepting abuse.
Osinachi’s case is not an isolated incident. In fact, statistics reveal a frightening pattern. According to a 2021 report by the National Demographic and Health Survey (NDHS), approximately 31% of Nigerian women aged 15–49 have experienced physical violence at least once since the age of 15. Most cases are perpetrated by intimate partners.
Unfortunately, cultural norms often discourage women from speaking out. Many victims are gaslighted into believing that reporting abuse is a betrayal of their family or faith. Churches preach forgiveness without addressing accountability. Families advise patience, and communities look the other way.
It is not surprising that when Osinachi’s death first surfaced, some fans quickly blamed her for “not speaking up early enough.” But the reality is more complex. Victims of domestic violence often live in fear, fear for their lives, fear of stigmatization, and fear of being blamed.
Justice Nwosu-Iheme’s bold judgment is a breath of fresh air in a system often accused of dragging its feet on gender-based violence. It shows that the judiciary can indeed be a defender of human rights when it has the courage to prioritize justice over societal pressure.
The 23-count charge on which Peter Nwachukwu was arraigned shows the severity with which prosecutors treated the case. From spousal battery to criminal intimidation, every aspect of his cruel behavior was dissected and laid bare. In sentencing him, the court did not merely focus on the ultimate result, Osinachi’s death, but also on the pattern of abuse that led up to it.
This is how cases of domestic violence should be treated: comprehensively and firmly. A slap today can lead to a funeral tomorrow. The law must recognize the pattern early and intervene decisively.
While Peter Nwachukwu’s death sentence represents a victory for justice, it is a bittersweet one. Nothing will bring Osinachi back. Her children will grow up without both parents. Her golden voice has been silenced forever.
It is tragic that it took the death of such a promising woman to awaken society to the horrors hidden behind closed doors. But if there is a silver lining, it is that Osinachi’s death and Peter’s conviction might save countless others.
If even a few men now think twice before raising their hands against their wives, if even a few women feel emboldened to speak out early, then Osinachi’s tragic story will not have been in vain.
This case must go beyond Peter Nwachukwu and Osinachi. Nigerian society as a whole must introspect. Churches, mosques, traditional leaders, and families must take stronger stances against domestic violence. Marriage counselors must learn to detect signs of abuse and act accordingly, rather than blindly preaching endurance.
Schools should educate both boys and girls about healthy relationships. Government agencies must increase public sensitization and ensure that women’s shelters, hotlines, and legal aid are readily available.
Importantly, the government should also enforce the Violence Against Persons (Prohibition) Act (VAPP Act) nationwide. Too many states have yet to domesticate or properly implement it.
Peter Nwachukwu’s death sentence is a hard but necessary lesson: no more martyrs in the name of marriage.
No woman should have to die to prove her loyalty. No family should have to bury their daughter because society failed to protect her.
Justice Nwosu-Iheme has drawn a line in the sand. From here onward, every slap, every punch, every act of marital cruelty must be seen for what it truly is, a crime.
Osinachi Nwachukwu sang praises to God with a golden voice. In death, her life has become a powerful hymn of justice. It is now left for the rest of society to sing along, not with tears, but with action.
[OPINION] At IMF Nigeria is winning praise, but the money isn’t flowing—this is why - Ugodre Obi-chukwu
AdminIn a chartered room on the 14th floor of the NASDAQ Building in Times Square, New York, sat a high-powered mix of global finance heavyweights, investors from JP Morgan, Standard Chartered, and other top institutions.
Beside them were influential members of the Nigerian diaspora, senior executives from the Central Bank of Nigeria, led by Governor Olayemi Cardoso, the CEO of the Nigerian Exchange (NGX), Temi Popoola and the CEO of the Central Securities Clearing System (CSCS), Haruna Jalo Waziri.
They weren’t there by chance. The mission was clear: Nigeria is open for business, and it wants the world to know.
This was one of several side events at the IMF and World Bank Spring Meetings, part of a broader campaign to woo foreign investment and change the narrative around Nigeria’s economic prospects.
But while the message from the Nigerian delegation was one of progress and reform, the response from investors revealed a more complicated reality, one filled with hope, hesitation, and hard questions.
On paper, this was Nigeria’s moment to shine. And in many ways, it did.
The tone was set by the Governor of the Central Bank of Nigeria, who spoke with clarity and conviction. He defended the bank’s recent policy choices, aggressive interest rate hikes, exchange rate liberalization, and the cleaning up of the FX backlog.
He reminded the audience just how bad things were before he took over and how far we had come since. There was no pretension; this was a man laying bare the facts and standing firmly behind his playbook.
To my surprise, foreign investors listened not with skepticism but with respect. Many were, in their own words, “impressed.” They applauded the policies. They admired the pace of implementation. Some even confessed they hadn’t expected this level of discipline. But as the conversations deepened, so did the concerns.
One word kept surfacing: uncertainty
Investors were not just worried about Nigeria. They were anxious about the world. Trump’s return to the political stage and his tariff talk were casting long shadows on emerging markets like ours. Many feared what a new wave of U.S. protectionism would do to oil prices and, by extension, to Nigeria’s fragile fiscal plan. Oil remains our lifeline, and everyone in the room knew it.
And yet, there was more. Investors kept circling back to a sobering question: How are ordinary Nigerians coping with all of this?
They were concerned not just with inflation or the exchange rate but with the very real pain being felt on the streets of Lagos, Kano, and Port Harcourt. The palliatives were not enough, they said. The social safety nets were too shallow. They wondered aloud how long Nigerians could endure this level of economic adjustment without political backlash or social unrest.
It wasn’t just investors raising these concerns. The IMF echoed them too. In their briefings, Nigeria’s policy reforms were described as bold and necessary. But they also forecasted weaker GDP growth than what the Nigerian government had projected. Inflation was still too high and was projected to go even higher. Poverty was still climbing. Growth, they warned, could be jobless and exclusive unless social support systems were urgently strengthened. They also warned of inefficient spending amidst growing fiscal deficits.
At another session hosted by the Federal Ministry of Finance and the CBN, we saw an even larger gathering of international investors. The government presented more data, laid out its fiscal strategies, and opened the floor for questions. One investor stood up and asked a tough one: Have you factored in falling oil prices in your 2025 budget projections?
The Minister of Finance gave a diplomatic response. He acknowledged the concerns and said scenarios were being considered. He mentioned a task team working on alternative revenue sources and hinted at plans to ramp up crude oil output through a newly energized NNPC. But the room could sense the struggle—oil still dominates our revenue, and the urgency to diversify remains more a goal than a reality.
Other issues came up, like Nigeria’s absence from the JP Morgan bond index. For many foreign portfolio managers, this exclusion is a deal-breaker. It limits their ability to invest in Nigerian assets, no matter how attractive the returns look. The DG of the Debt Management Office confirmed that Nigeria had met all the criteria, but the inclusion process was still ongoing. No timeline was given.
Then there was the matter of data. Investors trust what they can measure. While they praised the CBN for its data transparency, they expressed frustration with the Ministry of Finance. The availability, consistency, and quality of fiscal data are still major stumbling blocks. The Nigerian delegation assured them that reforms were underway. But again—no timelines, no specifics.
And yet, despite all of this, I felt a shift.
Unlike previous years, where Nigerian officials were met with cold doubt or outright disapproval, this time was different. Investors and institutions alike acknowledged that progress had been made. They just weren’t sure how durable it was or how insulated it was from political shocks, both domestic and global.
We’ve done the hard part, policy reforms that many countries avoid. Now, we are entering the hardest part: waiting. Waiting for oil prices to rise. Waiting for the tariffs and trade wars to settle. Waiting for the rating agencies to catch up. Fitch recently upgraded Nigeria’s credit rating, but others like Moody’s and S&P are yet to budge.
In truth, many of the risks that still hang over Nigeria are beyond our control. That’s the painful irony. We’ve started the engine, but the road is still bumpy and the weather is getting worse. The Trump tariff fears are real. Global growth is slowing. And we are still the poverty capital of the world, according to the World Bank.
A foreign investor summed it up for us after one session: “You’ve fixed many of the issues that made us walk away. Now we just need to see stability. If that happens, billions of dollars will come rolling in.”
Let’s hope we’re not just running a good race but one we can finish.
Three years ago, I wrote a piece which I titled Capitol of the Dank, Dark, Dirty and Dangerous. It was my personal assessment of notable, multisectoral degeneration in Abuja, Nigeria’s capital city, which is supposed to be Africa’s showpiece to the world. Muhammadu Buhari was President within the period and Mohammed Bello, Minister of the Federal Capital Territory Administration, (FCTA). Permanent power outages in the territory foisted a regime of disturbing darkness. Streets, roads, boulevards, closes were strewn with filth and garbage, gifting parts of the territory unusual stench and smell. Muggers reigned unchecked around and about the city, emerging from unknown hideouts to harass drivers at traffic lights fleecing them of valuables, particularly at nightfall. They targeted telephones and similar devices and would simply disappear into the wombs of darkening night. Should your vehicle malfunction in sections of the capital area especially in lonely stretches, criminals lurking in unsuspecting crevices sprang out to attack innocent victims and fleece them of their belongings.
The quantum vandalism visited on multibillion naira by scroungers better known in these parts as baba’n bola, “kings of dump sites,” equally evoked concern. Prized metal covers of service ducts on our street were wilfully stolen by these vagrants, a practice which still subsists. The gaping holes continue to leave commuters at the mercy of road crashes. Metal poles bearing illumination lights were not spared. They ended up as scraps in panteka markets where they are traded at our collective expense. Not forgetting the wholesale recalibration of the otherwise eye-catching aesthetics of Abuja, into a functional ranch by Fulani herders. Herds of cattle were on daily excursions across the city till today. They enjoyed primary “right of way,” over and above commuters, who were also doomed to contend with the lacquer of cattle dung, routinely splashed on city ways. Such was the basal levels to which our beautiful Abuja was dragged in that dispensation.
Today, the most casual of Abuja residents or fleeting guests would not but notice ongoing works in the city’s landscape. Road construction sites buzz with activity in select locations, even as concrete bridges are being launched across major roads. These will facilitate better commuter experiences for road users in the immediate future. Structures are sprouting in certain zones in the city and have been activated as public conveniences. The initiative aims to address a critical, probable omission in the Abuja masterplan. The absence of dedicated spaces as car parks across Abuja which has fuelled illegal loading bays across the city is another omission which will have to be creatively addressed. Kerbs and stone-pitching are being introduced in certain areas of the city’s road networks, even as hedges are being built around designated spaces for potential greening, in certain areas.
FCT Minister, Nyesom Wike without doubt, brought with him to his present brief, the dynamism which characterised his years as Governor of the oil-blessed Rivers State. His profile evidently accentuated public expectations when he was named chaperone of the FCT by President Bola Tinubu in August 2023. It needs no restating that Wike covets the limelight. Many would be familiar with his regular live telecast “state of the nation’s interviews” which he periodically hosts. Reminds of Fela Anikulapo-Kuti’s yabis sessions at his famous performance arena, the Shrine, in the good old Lagos. Wike sits on a grand sofa, either in the comfort of his living room, or in the breezy greenery of the lawns in his house, surrounded by a number of journalists. He hurls invectives at his adversaries, real or imagined, some of which actually border on libel and slander, in the name of discussing Nigerian politics.
As Governor of Rivers State, Wike routinely drew up timetables for the formal inauguration of projects executed by his administration. Such programmes often stretched into several days and weeks. He invited statesmen and political bigwigs sometimes across party lines to commission projects. Every such event was telecast real time on the terrestrial platforms of multiple television stations for global viewership. He replicated the practice when he got the President, on the first anniversary of his inauguration in May 2024, to perform the ceremonial tape-cutting of some projects across the capital city.
Yet another Democracy Day is just weeks away. Wike has been moving around the FCT with his very grandiose convoy of sleek automobiles, which could be misconstrued as being in direct contest with that of the President, in recent weeks. The taste of our leaders for extravagant consumption and obscene exhibitionism, is incompatible with our aggregate, pitiably low developmental indices on many counts. The FCT Minister is readying some projects executed by his ministry for commissioning by President Tinubu, come May 29, 2025. Predictably, as part of the preparations, select roads and avenues will wear fresh markings. Flags and buntings will be hoisted around Abuja. Laudable as these are, one is duty-bound to call the attention of the FCT helmsman to subsisting and worrying developments in Abuja as we speak. We shouldn’t be gloss-dressing the exterior of a structure, which indeed is internally decrepit and degenerate. From what one sees as one commutes around and across the city, the level of cleanliness and sanitary condition of Abuja has dropped remarkably.
Garbage receptacles in various neighborhoods overflow, Abuja streets strewn with cellophane sachets, plastic bags and all manner of debris. Instances are noticeable even within the city centre. While this is bad enough during weekdays when few garbage trucks are sighted in parts of Abuja, it is indeed worse at the weekends. There has been a suggestion that since Minister Wike is traditionally engrossed with politicking in Rivers State at the weekends, and more recently in neighbouring Bayelsa State, the absence of governance those few days of minimum governance should be overlooked. Open and covered drains are clogged by sand, silt and sundry waste. Sewers have ruptured in several districts and zones, streaming to streets, assailing the nostrils and impairing the health of residents. Despite recent recourse to solar lighting, illumination of the city remains very poor. Dark, uncertain stretches can even be noticed on the major gateway into Abuja, the airport road.
riminal activities including car theft, kidnapping and killings, hitherto rarities in the FCT, have become recurrent. It must have embarrassed the Office of the National Adviser, Nuhu Ribadu to no end, that a truck in the inventory of his office was stolen on the streets of Abuja earlier this month, minutes after its occupant stepped out to observe the juma’at service, Friday April 12, 2025! The clear absence of defined, structured parking areas for the ever growing city, the unavailability of structured “pick and drop” zones for public transportation contributes tremendously to avoidable traffic snarls in the capital. This reality needs to be confronted with every ingenuity to impact the functional showpiece we envision of Abuja.
Structures in public schools in Abuja are mostly substandard, unfit for teaching and learning. It would seem in many instances, that the builders of the primordial structures, shortchanged the system on account of the unpardonably shoddy jobs they executed. The buildings have since unravelled and become largely inimical to habitation and studying. With the onset of the rains, structures in many such institutions could be fundamentally affected and students displaced in instances. And there seems to be no resource provision for school heads to take initiative for palliative repairs remediation. The red-tapism en route such good intentions, can only be imagined.
For all the verve and boisterousness with which Wike settled into his job, it was expected that the menace, the eyesore constituted by herds of cattle straddling arrogantly through the capital, popularised during the Muhammadu Buhari presidency, would by now have been decisively addressed. Camels and horses are also on free range in parts of Abuja. Riding in the same car with a top officer friend who works in the security services, he posed the question to me: “I’ve honestly tried to understand this subsisting trend. Is it that the quality of vegetation consumed by cattle in the city is better than what is obtainable on the outskirts? I just don’t understand,” he said rhetorically.
Just a fortnight ago, the Mayor of Kumasi, a Ghanaian city, Richard Ofori-Agyemang Boadi, warned cattle rearers to confine their animals, or risk losing them. His call has received applause even from cattle businessmen. Kumasi, by the way is not the capital city of Ghana. On account of our failures and frailties, our country indeed has become laughing stock amongst brother countries. The Ghanaian press profiles our country as a “big for nothing giant of Africa,” whose nationals continue to flee their country in bids to find fulfilment elsewhere. Our failure in the simple task of maintaining the seat of government in our country questions our seriousness as a country. Where then lies our capacity to interrogate the bigger issues of insecurity, inflation and economic hardship and the free fall of our currency? Abuja which used to be Africa’s prime conference destination during the Olusegun Obasanjo/Atiku Abubakar government, has long lost its place. Sandton, Johannesburg in South Africa; Cairo in Egypt; Nairobi in Kenya, and even Kigali in Rwanda have since torpedoed our extant self-aggrandisement.
The papering and surfacing of parts of the FCT nonetheless, Wike still has a lot to chew on his plate. When will the FCTA install CCTV cameras across the territory, beginning from the city? Babajide Sanwo-Olu’s Lagos State, has led the way. The deployment of such simple technology is imperative for policing and securing of the seat of federal administration. When will Wike’s FCTA procure and install waste processing technology and equipment, to be deployed in designated parts of the territory? Modern waste management systems encourage the sustainable conversion of waste to wealth. When will areas contiguous to the concentric circle of the capital city, receive desired attention? When will the rocky Mpape district, and sub-urban communities like Lokogoma, Apo-Tyafi, Okanje, Kabusa, Pyakassa, Kuje, Gaube, Byazin, Bwari, Nyanya, and similar communities, catch a whiff of infrastructural modernity? These are strands of the FCT which bear mammoth population burdens and deserve life-improving facilities and amenities. These and several other districts and departments of the FCT behemoth, deserve and eagerly await Wike’s attention.
Olusunle, PhD, Fellow of the Association of Nigerian Authors, (FANA), is an Adjunct Professor of Creative Writing at the University of Abuja.