Impact

Dear Leader,

Here is a topic that has engulfed my mind for some three months now. It is actually inspired by the current reality of a close friend, and I thought to share with you hoping that some of us might relate with it and possibly share your thoughts on the matter.

From my perspective of leadership, it is a lifestyle. I say convincingly always that leadership rises and falls on character. Character is who you are and leading is what you do! Part of the components of character is Integrity which serves as the foundation for leadership, right? And a leader is someone who leads by example. Isn’t this supposed to be the ideal?

However, sometimes our life realities or maybe situations we sometimes find ourselves in doesn’t always fit into this very simple straight jacket perspective of leadership of mine.

As we all know that leadership is often celebrated in terms of vision, strategy, and influence. Yet, beneath the surface, every leader is human—facing personal struggles, temptations, or crises that can silently test their values. The tension arises because integrity isn’t just about what leaders do when people are watching; it’s about the choices they make when no one is looking. It’s about the alignment and the consistency of a leader’s words and actions, adhering to a set of values and principles.

Leadership has always carried a dual burden: the visible responsibility of guiding others and the hidden responsibility of managing oneself. At its core, leadership is not just about strategic direction, impactful outcomes, or public influence—it is about integrity. And yet, integrity is far more complex than the neat definitions offered in textbooks or at workshops.

When we think of integrity, we often imagine consistency, the alignment of private values with public action. But the bitter truth is, real life is rarely that neat. All leaders are human beings with needs, vulnerabilities, and desires. Many leaders face private struggles that society frowns upon, some of us may have adopted private habits, choices, relationships, or lifestyles that kind of bring peace or strength. These choices—most times are unconventional, socially controversial or even unacceptable— but yet, paradoxically, these very struggles brings fulfillment, sharpen productivity, restores balance, even enhance creativity and make them feel more alive and increases their sense of being, yet challenges their values and public perception. Obviously, these acts are not betrayals but forms of personal authenticity, as it is empowering with fulfillment, giving a sense of personal completeness that helps to stay grounded, offering an outlet that restores emotional balance or giving a renewed energy that translates into sharper decision-making and focus. Thus, making such person feel their authenticity, a connection to a side of themselves that feels real, even if hidden. To these leaders, these choices are not lapses of integrity but sources of strength.

However, the paradox arises when the same choices are measured against public standards of morality and trust. This is the unspoken paradox of leadership: the line between personal authenticity and social morality. What happens when the very things that empower a leader privately—providing happiness, stress relief, or creative energy—are frowned upon by society? What happens when personal fulfillment collides with public morality?

Society on the other hand measures leaders not only by results or performance but also by the values they embody. Integrity is interpreted through cultural, religious, and professional lenses. Acts that empower leaders privately may erode trust capital publicly if exposed. Thus, leaders are caught between authenticity and accountability, fulfillment and responsibility, private satisfaction and public scrutiny.

The tension here is dangerous but undeniable. As we all know, that everything that has an advantage comes also with its own challenges and disadvantages, hence identifying the risks if such acts are exposed, it could lead to loss of reputation, internal conflict, or scandals that can tarnish the entire institutions and not only the leader involved. Yes, what feels empowering in private can, in public, unravel years of work and trust. The empowerment leaders feel in private can become their undoing if left unchecked, unmanaged, or hidden without accountability.

In my thinking, the question for me, really is, could there be reasons or justifications for this indulgence, why leaders gravitate towards choices that challenge societal expectations? While I can’t factually say that whatever the reasons or justifications are, is valid, but then I will attempt and guess that sometimes the weight of expectations for leaders to live up to “model” standards of morality, resilience, and self-control. Under constant surveillance, they seek private outlets that allow them to reclaim freedom and humanity. Or sometimes, it is in the search for wholeness which can be linked to identity, hidden values, or unmet emotional needs.

My thinking again, at what point in one’s leadership journey can one say “I don’t care what society thinks, life is personal and I would want to live my life for me as long as performance indicators are positive, my private choices remain my own business, so far they aren’t detrimental to my overall well-being and that of others”.

Truth be told dear leader, I am actually also yet to wrap my head on these thoughts….i am sharing possibly we could together ponder on these real-life circumstances as leaders.

Having said that, one thing I am very certain about and would want us to understand going forward is to redefined integrity, not as perfection but more of integration. Understanding that every leader is first of all a person, in fact, a person in continuous journey of improving, learning, discovering, developing, evolving, growing in their own way and at their own pace. It’s really not about demanding flawless leaders or presenting yourself as one—such a standard is impossible. No one is perfect, to err is human and so no one is above it.

When we view integrity as perfection, we set ourselves up for failure. No one can be flawless, and striving for perfection can lead to unrealistic expectations where we expect ourselves and others to be without fault, judging ourselves harshly for mistakes and the fear of vulnerability, where we as leaders are reluctant to share our imperfections.

Rather, it is about redefining integrity as integration: the alignment of personal authenticity with social responsibility. It’s about being true to ourselves and others, even in imperfection. With this approach, we will embrace authenticity by acknowledging and accepting our strengths and weaknesses, living our values as we strive to align our actions with our principles and building trust as we foster relationships based on honesty and transparency.

Lastly by redefining integrity as integration, we can cultivate a more realistic and compassionate approach to living our values. We can focus on progress, not perfection, and build stronger relationships through authenticity and trust.

Did I think through well? You also, should let me know what you think and of course, lets be real. I would like to read from you, till then.

By Fifelomo Dawodu

This is a response from the head and the heart to an impassioned assertion made by former Governor of Lagos State and triple portfolio Federal Minister, Mr. Babatunde Raji Fashola (S.A.N.) at the recent 65th Independence Lecture of Island Club. He said his socialisation as a teenager was very “unNigerian“. He also said he was socialised on music, dress, food, fashion, and culture that was totally unNigerian, and consumed foreign finished products, shoes, electronics, films were Chinese, Indian, American, and our food was beef burgers and hot dogs!

The learned silk probably had an off day at that event, because he usually would be on point on whatever subject he addresses, but on this occasion, as far as I know, he was inaccurate on many scores. Let me be clear: this intervention is not speaking to all of BRF’s contributions at the Lecture, but specifically a counterpoise to the incorrect narrative about his socialisation as a teenager in Lagos. While I make no claims to specialisation or expertise on the subject, but the socialisation he spoke about is a shared one.

BRF speaks of the socialisation of my generation; my lived experience; he and I were teenagers at the same time. That I know as a fact, because his age is a matter of public record.

It is also important to address the inaccuracies immediately, as it’s a matter of historical record that needs to be set straight. It could be dangerous to let it pass unchallenged because, in a very short while, it could become ‘fact’ more so that BRF said it and on the platform at which it was said. The former Governor would readily agree with that; he understands the danger of not controverting bogus claims. I listened to him once, perhaps as Housing Minister, as he lamented that the data and narrative around the housing deficit in Nigeria were unfounded and contrived, but was reckoned as the official position.

Before delving into the counter-narrative of our socialisation as teenagers in Lagos, precisely between 1976-1981 (for a more robust view, maybe we expand the period to the early ’70s to the mid-1980s), permit me to attempt to do my Sociology of Education lecturer proud by defining socialisation. Socialisation is the process of preparing and equipping the child with the education, information, and resources required to empower them for their future roles in society. To a large extent, socialisation is education, even if education may not be the entirety of socialisation. Socialisation transmits to the young and new members of society the ways, manners, greetings, communications, beliefs, taboos, mores, ethos, habits, food, behaviour, and ceremonies of the society in which they live and grow up.

Let me also track timelines and some landmark events of our teenage years. NYSC (1973), Indigenisation Decree (1977), Festac ’77, Operation Feed the Nation (1976), 2nd Republic Civilian rule (1979), War Against Indiscipline (1984), Takeover of Schools fromMissionaries (1970s) This should give an indication of the vibrancy of the Nigerian society that our socialisation as teenagers would have been fashioned to fit.

The Fashola family, like mine, are Lagos ‘establishment’ and by the time we were teenagers, western-style education had become a culture. However, regardless of the urbane and cosmopolitan disposition of our families, I doubt that beef burgers and hot dogs would have been a regular offering on the family menu. I do recall with nostalgia, Eddie Burger, Kas Chicken somewhere in Itire Road/Ojuelegba, Murphy’s Burger in Adeniran Ogunsanya Shopping Centre. But hardly were those the fare on which we were socialised. White rice and fresh fish stew, eba and ewedu, amala and okro with meat stew, ewa riro, ewa Agunyin, moimoi and garri, ogi and akara, yam and eggs and corned beef stew, dundun and dodo still titillate my palate; those were the foods of our socialisation.

One should recognise and distinguish colonised affectations; the need to manifest elements of the social and cultural capital of western education from our socialisation. One must also admit that many of those who were formally educated had become conflicted and confused. We no longer speak our local dialects, and our children do not know about their place of origin.

However the Afro hairstyle that BRF cited as American , is actually African, as the word Afro patently suggests. African Americans wore their hair in that style as an expression of identity, to show affinity for their roots. Academics and young men in Nigeria wore their hair in that style in solidarity. (I remember though that it was usually an act of rebellion by the teenage boys and young men and a battle with parents about cutting the Afro.) Danshiki tops were worn over the bell-bottom trousers as part of the fad in those days.

As for entertainment, indeed we had foreign influences and the colonised craving for foreign music, film, and fashion. However, we surely cannot discard or discount the influence of indigenous entertainers. Fela Anikulapo, Sunny Okosun, Osibisa, Sunny Ade, Ebenezer Obey, Ayinla Omowura, Yusuf Olatunji, Abibu Oluwa, Kayode Fashola, even Ofege, a band of teenage boys, students of St. Gregory’s College Obalende represent the popular music of the time.” Baba Sala”, Hubert Ogunde moved from stage plays to movies, and the Ade Love, Village Headmaster, Bar Beach Show, The Masquerades, Cock Crow at Dawn; provided local edutainment to our parents and us.

This leads to another area where BRF’s assertion missed the point: confusing the socialised with the socialisation. The teenager does not socialise itself. There are primary and secondary sources of socialisation. The parents and family are primary agents of socialisation, and schools, peer groups, and other social institutions like religious houses and unions are the secondary agents of socialisation. Which of these agents of socialisation did BRF find unNigerian ?But for the very few parents who were overtly westernised ( and were described somewhat derisively as “ alakowe” “oloyinbo” or “alacada”) our parents were not unNigerian.

Some of the secondary agents of socialisation were also very Nigerian. When we were teenagers, Secondary Schools had been taken over from the Missionaries by the Lagos State Government. Methodist Girl’s High School, (MGHS), Queens College (QC), Igbobi College, Methodist Boy’s High School ( MBHS) CMS Grammer School at the time were very much Nigerian Schools. Again the Secondary Schools that BRF attended are matters of public record and one cannot see how he can sustain the claim of UnNigerian socialisation even from that angle.

Another interesting fact of our socialisation at that time was that whether you went to a private primary school, all children of Secondary School age had to attend a State Secondary School; and those who would proceed to higher education locally , had just the option of Federal Universities. ( Nigerian Universities at that time ranked in the top echelon on the global ranking). The social cohesion in that arrangement cannot be quantified.

As regards religion; I do concede that many of the primary agents of socialisation had become unAfrican, by distancing themselves from traditional spirituality and acts of worship. They however found a way to infuse a measure of Nigerian flavour into the practice of their acquired faith; clapping, drumming and dancing and even the confraternities such as ‘Egbe Ogboni Onigbagbo’ found its way to church. The Muslims also imbibed some traditional manners into the practice of Islam.

Another aspect of inaccuracy in BRF’s charge of UnNigerian socialisation is that he made the same error that he was looking to resolve with his intervention at Island Club. He had asked, “What is the Nigerian dream? what would the success of the dream look like ? and what do we as a nation (Nigeria) and as a people (Nigerians) want as the gold standard of leadership?” But he went ahead to make a charge of UnNigerian socialisation of a generation of Nigerian teenagers from the tiny and misty lens of his Suru-Lere on the mainland of Lagos, where he grew up. Having served as a Federal Minister immediately after serving as Governor of Lagos State, he more than most should be better aware of the extent of the diversity of our nation. We all saw how quickly he learned that Nigeria is certainly beyond Lagos for all intent and purposes. As such, he ought to be circumspect yet expansive in his assertions.

Even in the same town or city, socialisation may differ amongst communities. Sometimes, even among members of the same extended family, regardless of many commonalities, sometimes small details such as the parts of town they live in may cause differences in how they are socialised or manifest their socialisation. For example, our cousins that were raised in the heart of Lagos Island may show up as really more ‘Omo-Eko’ than a me; with my Corona Schoolelementary school mannerism ; which could cause me to be dismissed as ‘Omo get inside’ or ‘Aje-butter’ and not necessarily as a compliment. The labelling may be for not being Eco-wise ; not “wakey”.

If ‘Islander’ relations can be socialised differently from their ‘aje -butter’ cousins in Ikoyi and Ikeja GRA, how then can the Learned Silk speak about the unNigerian socialisation of a teenage Fulani girl in Ilorin , or a Kanuri teenager in Maiduguri or a teenage Ilaje boy in Okiti Pupa ? The suggestion of eating Beef burgers as integral to our socialisation , may not even be the reality of teenagers in neighbouring cities of Ibadan . Ijebu-Ode, or even Badagry and Ikorodu.

I deny that our socialisation was UnNigerian and suggest that BRF, at the earliest opportunity, retracts his categorical assertion that teenagers of his generation were raised “totally unNigerian.”

He should urgently moderate that contention. We know how quickly stories spread these days and how ideas can take root, even if in mostly shallow waters; the spin can easily become a colourful mishmash.

Fife319@yahoo.com

Let me begin by extending warm congratulations to my fellow citizens on the 65th anniversary of our cherished nation. Although, it is belated, it is still in order. With that said, it’s only fitting that I now share the inspiration behind the theme and title of this essay, which explores the origins, cultivation, and evolution—or absence—of inclusive leadership in our beloved Nigeria, along with its far-reaching consequences.

As I deliberated over the ideal focus, I found myself torn between two paths: delving into Nigeria’s 65th independence milestone and the persistent factors behind our nation’s stalled progress, or dissecting the pressing crisis in the oil and gas industry—the standoff between workers’ unions and Dangote Refinery management that threatened to upend fuel supply chains and plunge us back into the agonizing queues and scarcities endured by weary Nigerians at petrol stations.

However, with the welcome announcement that the dispute was settled harmoniously last Wednesday, my indecision evaporated, allowing me to confidently center this week’s reflection on Nigeria’s 65 years of sovereignty. Opting to align with fellow commentators in reviewing our country’s trajectory thus far, I encountered a fresh dilemma: should I plunge into a forensic examination of the ailments crippling Nigeria—those persistent barriers that have prevented us from unlocking the vast promise proclaimed at our 1960 independence—or view our homeland through a lens of hope and possibility?

I settled on the latter over the former, inspired by a poignant column in last Thursday’s ThisDay newspaper. Titled “Reflections on Nigeria at 65,” it was penned by my esteemed colleague, acclaimed columnist, and chairman of ThisDay’s editorial board, Segun Adeniyi. What truly swayed me toward a grounded, human-centered perspective on Nigeria’s development was Adeniyi’s companion piece that day, “Amala to the Rescue.”

Drawing from a personal ordeal, Adeniyi recounted his fierce battle with the flu, which shattered his appetite despite relentless efforts to revive it through various remedies. To his astonishment, a humble serving of amala from a local mama put (street food seller) worked wonders, reigniting his gusto for meals. This tale struck a chord with me, as I’ve been grappling with a stubborn flu for the past month—an ordeal that prompted a COVID test and nebulizer sessions after standard antihistamines lagged in quelling the symptoms.

If Amala could heal my friend’s ailment, I mused, why wouldn’t I give it a shot myself? For the uninitiated, amala—a delicacy derived from yam flour—holds pride of place as a staple among the Yoruba people of Nigeria, though it’s steadily won over urbanites from other ethnic groups nationwide.

Adeniyi’s eloquently woven essay, for which he revisited his archives to unearth enduring insights on the intricate web of Nigerian politics, prompted me to reach out with this praise: “A compelling chronicle of Nigeria’s plight. I wonder when—or how—our nation will uncover the secret to electing a leader through democracy’s forge who can adeptly steward our boundless human and natural wealth. Some attribute it to securing an electoral arbiter of flawless integrity; others invoke divine intervention, beseeching heaven for an angelic INEC chairman. Yet, the proverb lingers in my mind: ‘A single tree does not a forest make.’”

Building on that, I added: “Given this, one can’t help but ask: Would we need celestial recruits for resident electoral officers too—stationed at headquarters and across Nigeria’s 36 states—to bolster the INEC chair, who surely can’t be everywhere at once? That’s the crux of our conundrum.” Wrapping up our lighthearted exchange, I teased Segun: “Next time I’m in Abuja, I’ll scout that amala spot. Fingers crossed if it also mends me as magically as it did you.”

Before signing off, I appended: “Kudos, brother. I admire how you’ve artfully fused the saga of Nigeria at 65—an entity meant to stand tall like Alhaji Aliko Dangote, Africa’s richest titan—yet it stumbles like a stunted, impaired figure, a tragic double affliction.” Sensing it unbecoming to omit, I also recalled for ThisDay‘s editorial chief President Tinubu’s October 1 admonition to Nigerians at the Wole Soyinka Centre for Arts and Culture’s grand reopening: “President Bola Tinubu has urged citizens to cease disparaging our land, and I sense Mr. President subscribes to the power of affirmative speech—that uttering good over something summons its goodness. I stand with him on the transformative potential of this mindset. Still, positivity alone isn’t the cure for Nigeria’s stunted evolution. I suspect the President knows as much; he simply seeks our bolstering support in steering the nation through these turbulent times, rather than doomsaying that deems all Nigerian endeavors futile.”

As our cordial dawn dialogue drew to a close, I shared one final musing with Segun: “It evokes the biblical doubters’ query: Can anything good emerge from Nazareth? [Note: The original likely intends ‘Nazareth’ over ‘Israel’ for accuracy.]
Arguably, it mirrors Nigeria and President Tinubu today, for that same scripture reveals how the discarded stone became the foundation’s keystone.” Segun replied with a grin: “Amala from Iya Oyo heals all woes,” trailed by hearty laughing emojis.

To deepen the context of our earlier exchange, consider that President Bola Tinubu secured victory in the 2023 election with approximately 8.8 million votes—far short of the roughly 15.2 million his predecessor, the late Muhammadu Buhari, amassed for his 2019 re-election triumph. Tinubu thus entered office with modest public backing. Yet, midway into his four-year term, his approval has surged—not via fleeting palliatives like direct food aid, but through stabilizing Nigeria’s economy for enduring mass prosperity. This stems from audacious steps, including scrapping the petrol subsidy and unifying the naira’s fractured exchange rates against the dollar and other currencies.

These moves have banished fuel scarcity’s grip, courtesy of private ventures like the Dangote Refinery’s 650,000-barrels-per-day output. Central Bank of Nigeria data further reveals external reserves climbing from an official $33 billion (or as low as $3.7 billion per estimate by JPMorgan to a sturdy $43 billion—sufficient for nearly 12 months of imports. Beyond that, trillions of naira now bolster the federation account, channeling funds to states and local governments for community-level upliftment.

Consequently, civil servants’ salary arrears—once stretching over a year—have been cleared, while subnational entities pour resources into sweeping infrastructure: roads, bridges, clinics, and affordable housing sprouting across grassroots locales.
But living costs remain elevated, however, that is owing to the standard delay before policy dividends ripple into daily realities. Economists, as social scientists, herald strengthening fundamentals—Gross Domestic Product (GDP) expansion at 4.23% in Q2 2025, bolstering Purchasing Power Parity (PPP), and a moderating Consumer Price Index (CPI)—fueling upbeat forecasts. Yet, this technocratic lexicon often lands as arcane babble among everyday folk, stoking ire as they grapple to align personal woes with proclamations of fiscal rebound by government apparatchik.

Take President Tinubu’s Independence Day address: he vowed the economy had “turned the corner,” with the nadir passed. He doubled down at the erstwhile National Arts Theatre’s—now the Wole Soyinka Centre for Arts and Culture—reopening gala.
Through such overtures, Mr. President labors to convey that the austerity sparked by his resolute subsidy axing and rate consolidation—which curbed fund arbitrage and fuel smuggling—posed a transient, vital toll for a sunnier horizon.

In his daytime broadcast and evening cultural rite, he sought to convince the multitudes that reform’s sting has ebbed and dawn beckons. Skepticism lingers, though, among those bearing the brunt: amid soaring expenses, throngs demand tangible proof their burdens are lifting, as Tinubu insists. It echoes the Christian Gospel’s Thomas Didymus also known as Doubting Thomas, pleading for nail-scarred palms of Jesus Christ to affirm His resurrection. Candidly, after decades of dashed pledges, I absolve the wary Nigerian public of their distrust in government pronouncements.

The Federal Ministry of Information—and its state-level counterparts—has fallen short in demystifying ties between GDP, PPP, CPI, and lived struggles. Beyond expediting reform fruits, unpacking these metrics—why delays persist, how myriad forces must align symphonically to alleviate duress—could soften animus toward the regime, rallying the disaffected to become more accommodating. Here, the National Orientation Agency (NOA)—iconic for its “I’m a true Nigerian… I live by the citizen’s code” drive—faces a pivotal mandate.

Case in point: eminent jurist Prof. Itse Sagay and peers have lambasted the Independence Day oration as adrift from societal truths. NOA-guided outreach, tying GDP gains to market vegetable prices, might soothe the anguish of our beleaguered populace.

From this flows a clarion call: to enlist elites and ordinary citizens in Tinubu’s Renewed Hope vision, pivot from pugnacious defense to a cascade of clarifying outreach—a seismic communicative pivot spotlighting triumphs. An emblem not to overlook: the National Theatre, erected in 1976—16 years after Nigeria’s emancipation from Britain—had crumbled into obsolescence from chronic disregard. Yet, around five years back, Nigeria’s banking titans resolved to revive this FESTAC ’77 global stage, lest it linger as a faded artifact.

The Bankers Committee’s magnanimous push—fully realized in late 2024—capped 65th anniversary festivities in Lagos, supplanting rote military drills and pupil processions at Lagos’s Tafawa Balewa Square in the past and Abuja’s Eagle Square, lately. With the cultural landmark revitalized, it earned a rechristening for Africa’s inaugural literary Nobelist, 91-year-old Prof. Wole Soyinka (WS to devotees). Tinubu framed the honor as recompense for their comradeship in battling juntas to reclaim democracy. Regrettably, online provocateurs brand the sage a hypocrite—overlooking Soyinka’s candid concession speech: admitting prior qualms on personal tributes, yet carving an exception, while chronicling his stewardship in the venue’s storied arc before entropy set in. Noble as his candor rang, detractors press on unyieldingly.

Alas, calumniating a world-renowned wordsmith—mirroring a polity blind to elders’ gravitas—marks the grim vogue among millennials and Gen Z. Verily, no sane soul disputes this rechristening as Tinubu’s crowning cultural stroke: Soyinka warrants it, akin to Tafawa Balewa Square saluting ex-Premier Sir Abubakar Tafawa Balewa; Abuja’s airport enshrining Dr. Nnamdi Azikiwe, erstwhile ceremonial head; South Africa’s Mandela Square lionizing the continent’s paramount liberator; or the U.S.’s Madison Square (named for the fourth US president James Madison) and Washington, D.C.’s Lincoln Memorial (for the sixteenth US president – Abraham Lincoln) anchoring civic hearts. Ergo, naught amiss in bestowing a bastion of heritage upon a Nobel bard, jailed pre-1967 for mediating Nigerian-Biafran amity to avert war—despite his valiant bid’s defeat.

Poignantly, my latest tome’s unveiling a couple of years ago, “Leading from the Streets: Media Interventions by a Public Intellectual, 1999–2009”, staged Gen. Yakubu Gowon’s inaugural post-1967–70 war reunion with his onetime prisoner Soyinka—the incarcerator and the incarceree, bridging epochs. Although Soyinka didn’t show up. Gowon in his speech referred to him as his ‘guest’ which is a nice way of making light of his incarceration of Soyinka when he tried to broker peace to avert the unfortunate civil war of 1968-1970.

Undeniably, Wole Soyinka has played a pivotal role in upholding Nigeria’s unity and fortifying its democratic foundations. With that in mind, I implore online detractors to holster their barbs and allow Kongi—the affectionate nickname bestowed upon him after his acclaimed novel Kongi’s Harvest—to savor the tranquility he has rightfully earned.

The uplifting saga of the National Arts Theatre’s refurbishment and revival—which had dimmed into dilapidation before the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN) and Bankers Committee’s opportune rescue—offers a compelling metaphor for the revitalization of Nigeria which President Tinubu and his allies are crafting.

Viewed through this prism, Nigeria parallels that venerable venue: once beleaguered by structural rot and obsolescence, it awaited the current stewards of Aso Rock Villa, the presidential citadel, who arrived intent on mending the realm via the Renewed Hope blueprint under Tinubu’s helm.

Here, the CBN and Bankers Committee—architects of the theatre’s resurgence through meticulous strategy and unflinching implementation—mirror Tinubu’s coalition of Renewed Hope team propelling the agenda forward, encompassing the executive, legislative, and judicial arms of state.

As these endeavors mature, the administration’s early triumphs—spanning the petrol subsidy’s excision and attendant pump price hikes that stabilized supply, alongside financial sector overhauls (extending beyond merging disparate exchange windows into a unified one, to include recapitalizing internationally licensed banks from N200 billion to N500 billion, fortifying them to propel growth from January 2026)—herald broader gains, augmented by a sweeping tax overhaul.

Parliament’s enactment of four transformative tax bills in June 2025—supplanting antiquated colonial frameworks during Tinubu’s tenure—promises synergistic ripple effects across interconnected domains, fostering economy-wide renewal in the near term, particularly from 2026 onward, should the leadership persevere in implementing its reform agenda.
By contrast, fragmented reforms historically breed pitfalls, such as:

1. Unintended Consequences: Tackling one flaw can spawn or amplify others.
2. Uneven Distribution: Gains may sideline swaths of the populace.
3. Fleeting Fixes: Quick patches often crumble over time.
4. Siloed Advances: Isolated strides stall without cross-sector alignment.
5. Escalating Intricacy: Ad-libbed measures yield labyrinthine bureaucracies.

These lessons affirm that potent reforms demand wholeness, attuned to an economy’s interwoven dynamics—a tenet borne out by global precedents. Thus, pursuing integrated, enduring remedies stands as the hallmark of a robust policy thrust.
This very comprehensiveness defines the pivot Tinubu’s government has embraced; as I forecasted in this space last February that Nigeria’s fiscal tempest would soon abate—a stance that irked those prizing emotion over empiricism.

Complementing the tax bills’ revenue-boosting base-broadening under Taiwo Oyedele’s presidential committee helm, Zacch Adedeji’s Federal Inland Revenue Service (FIRS) shoulders diligent collections, while Yemi Cardoso’s CBN commendably reins in inflation. Add Wale Edun’s—Finance Minister and Economy Coordinating Chief—supervision of N330 billion in monthly N25,000 stipends to the indigent, aiding over 8 million households, and Bayo Ojulari who is commander-in-chief of the NNPC, our oil-and-gas colossus and fiscal linchpin—is also a Yoruba son of north-central Nigeria extraction.

Though detractors brand this powerhouse cadre (drivers of Tinubu’s sweeping changes) the “Amala Reforms” for its ostensibly Yoruba tilt—a jab at the ethnic staple binding its principals—Tinubu’s October 1 Independence Day clarion call, proclaiming hardship’s ebb and economic inflection, which he echoed at the evening theatre rechristening, strikes a chord with me. Hence, I wholeheartedly endorse his vision of imminent respite for our people.

This assurance amplifies with Bayo Ogunlesi’s fresh Lagos parley with Tinubu, as co-CEO of BlackRock—a behemoth boasting $12.5 trillion in assets under management (AUM) as of Q2 2025. Nor is that all: BlackRock’s marquee stakes encompass NVIDIA (5.73% of portfolio), Microsoft (5.49%), Apple (4.47%), Amazon (2.97%), and Meta Platforms.

Such stature renders Ogunlesi’s post-huddle quips a veritable anthem. Reputed for clerking for integrity paragon Justice Thurgood Marshall, he enthused to reporters: “I just had an excellent meeting with Mr. President, where we talked about the fundamental transformation that has happened in the last two years… Nigeria is currently an exciting place to invest in, and we will be making our move soon.” Prodded on specifics, he hinted at energy infusions (mirroring BlackRock’s Texas LNG plays), Cotonou port stakes, and aviation—his forte, epitomized by Gatwick Airport’s acquisition.

Any vestige of skepticism regarding Tinubu’s prowess to invert our trajectory—which, truth be told, I’ve never harbored, as l have been steadfast in my belief he’s the redeemer from the precipice—dissolved utterly upon parsing Ogunlesi’s exchange at the President’s Lagos abode: a watershed moment.

Indeed, approbation from Ogunlesi’s echelon—a disinterested sage with a ledger of bets solely on bedrock economies—transcends even IMF or World Bank plaudits, which naysayers scorn as beholden to multilateral puppeteers.
This moment invites the bridge-building simile to limn our polity and purse’s present plight.

Under Tinubu’s vigil, Nigeria evokes a colossal span mid-rebuild: the foreseeable vexations of barriers and skeletal frames chafe like reform’s interim throes. Yet subsurface, robust pilings plunge earthward, unseen sentinels of solidity, priming the ascent of a resplendent span—towers piercing clouds, carriage seamless—for all to traverse. Little wonder partisan saboteurs mock these tidal shifts as “Amala Reforms,” lampooning the Yoruba lineage of their chief stewards (Tinubu and his squad), where the dish denotes commonality.

While I’ve long crusaded—across four decades of commentary—for governance embracing every tribe, tongue, and faith, akin to ex-Edo Governor and ex-NLC chief Senator Adams Oshiomhole’s mid-oil-row plea for Dangote’s dominance over union vise-grips on imports, throughput, and yield; the cuisine tantalizing Aso Rock’s shots-callers and coterie is immaterial to me, provided we reclaim the opulence that enthralled the globe at FESTAC ‘77’s 1977 extravaganza.

Thus, whether amala/ewedu, akpu/onugbu, tuwo shinkafa/miyan kuka, pounded yam/edible greens/egusi, or starch/banga graces the presidential dining table, it stirs no ire in me. To underscore the assertion above: should such savor propel Nigeria’s resurgence, count me in—and I beseech compatriots to sup with Aso Rock’s paramount, be he whomsoever.

A venerable Chinese adage posits: a cat’s hue—ivory or ebony—availeth naught if it snares the vermin. Essence: efficacy and utility eclipse veneer or dogma. Plainly put, the quarry’s capture trumps the hunter’s hue. This ethos—Nigerians in polity, commerce, or quandary must cultivate—is the forge of stride: realms fixated on fruition, unencumbered by trivia or bias, vault progress in vast arcs. Tinubu’s Renewed Hope odyssey channels precisely this: reclaiming splendor’s trail, spurning acrimony and patrimonial plunder.

Once again, happy Independence Day, Nigerians.

Magnus Onyibe, entrepreneur, public policy analyst, author, democracy champion, development maven, Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy alumnus (Tufts University, Massachusetts, USA), Commonwealth Institute fellow, and erstwhile Delta State commissioner, dispatched this from Lagos.

The United Nations turns 80 this year. Its General Assembly in New York carries the theme: “Better Together: 80 Years and More Peace for Development and Human Rights.” Yet the words sound hollow. Across continents, wars rage and human rights abuses proliferate. Peace—once the UN’s central promise—seems to be slipping away.

Europe, which had enjoyed relative calm since World War II, is now locked in a grinding Russian–Ukrainian war. The Middle East is aflame from Gaza to Yemen. Across Africa, terrorism, insurgency, and internecine wars—from DR Congo, Sudan to Nigeria—are claiming thousands of lives. These realities make the UN’s anniversary theme feel like a paradox.

Founded in 1945 to prevent another global cataclysm, the UN is now watching helplessly as conflicts multiply. Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky captured the mood at UNGA when he warned that the world “must not let Russia make war the new normal.”

The data that l have put together from multiple platforms backs him up. According to the 2025 Global Peace Index, global peacefulness has been deteriorating for two decades. There are now 59 active state-based conflicts, the most since the late 1940s. Conflicts are increasingly internationalized, with 98 countries involved in external wars—up from 59 in 2008.

The economic cost of violence is staggering: $19.97 trillion in 2024 alone, or 11.5% of global GDP, according to the IMF. Middle Eastern and North African nations remain the least peaceful, but even Europe’s stability has been shattered, undermining confidence in the UN’s ability to uphold its founding mission.

This is despite the UN’s vast footprint. Since 1948 it has deployed more than 140 peace missions, including peacekeeping, diplomacy, and political interventions. Yet its record on enforcing disarmament treaties and ensuring humanitarian relief remains mixed.

Recognizing these shortcomings, Secretary-General António Guterres has launched reforms like UN80 and UN 2.0, aiming to make the organization more agile in confronting today’s crises. But the scale and complexity of current conflicts—spanning cyberwarfare, terrorism, climate-driven migration, and rising authoritarianism—make his task herculean.

The lesson is clear: the UN must evolve or risk irrelevance. It was built for a post–World War II order dominated by nation-states. Today’s conflicts are messier, with non-state actors, proxy wars, and disinformation campaigns undermining traditional diplomacy.

As the UN marks its 80th anniversary, it should be a moment of reckoning rather than celebration. The organization must develop faster response mechanisms, rethink its peacekeeping model, and empower regional blocs to act as first responders. Above all, it must address its legitimacy deficit—starting with long-overdue Security Council reform. Africa’s quest for a permanent seat on the Council, long sidelined, needs to be revisited if the UN is to reflect 21st-century realities.

The bloodshed from Ukraine to Gaza to DR Congo and Sudan as well as Nigeria is a grim reminder that peace cannot be taken for granted. Eight decades after its founding, the UN stands at a crossroads: adapt to a rapidly changing world or watch its founding promise of “never again” fade into irrelevance.

Nigeria is often touted as Africa’s natural candidate for a permanent seat on the UN Security Council (UNSC). But front-runner status is not guaranteed. In the murky world of international diplomacy, Nigeria must play its cards far more deftly—or risk losing out to rivals.

Kenya and Ghana are already outflanking us. Kenya has sent police to gang-ravaged Haiti to help restore order—a strategic move that earns goodwill with key UNSC members. President William Ruto underscored this at UNGA80. Ghana, meanwhile, accepted deported nationals under President Trump’s hardline immigration policy. The U.S., an influential UNSC member, rewarded Ghana by restoring five-year multiple-entry visa privileges still withheld from Nigerians.

Nigeria, by contrast, rejected a similar U.S. request, forfeiting leverage. With insecurity at home and an economy needing revival, why didn’t we use this as a bargaining chip to seek US support to solve those debilitating socio-economic challenges and also strengthen our UNSC bid? Rather than being rigid why not be pragmatic? These are the tough questions our foreign-policy establishment must confront.

At UNGA80, the contrast between rhetoric and reality was on full display. U.S. President Donald Trump, never one for diplomatic niceties, (even in the hallowed chamber of the UN,the citadel of diplomacy) blasted the UN’s lethargy and loss of focus, accusing it of drifting from the vision of its founders. He cited the practical bad examples of a dysfunctional escalator in the UN building which he witnessed live and a faulty teleprompter which compelled him to deliver his speech ex tempore. His speech resonated because the UN’s credibility is indeed waning—especially its failure to reflect today’s geopolitical realities.

When Nigeria took the podium, Vice President Kashim Shettima, on behalf of President Bola Tinubu, succinctly pressed the case for reform:

“When the UN was founded, Nigeria was a colony of 20 million people. Today we are a sovereign nation of over 236 million, projected to be the world’s third most populous country, a stabilising force in regional security, and a consistent partner in peacekeeping. Our case for a permanent seat at the Security Council is a demand for fairness, representation, and reform.”

Nigeria’s credentials are strong. Since 1960 it has participated in 51 of 60 UN peacekeeping missions. It backs the Ezulwini Consensus and Sirte Declaration calling for at least two permanent African seats. It concluded that it is unjustifiable that 60% of UNSC resolutions concern Africa, and still no African country sits permanently at the table.

One would argue that the marginalisation echoes the 1884–85 Berlin Conference that carved up Africa amongst Europeans as spoils of World War ll—proof that the continent’s political exclusion endures 140 years later. In my view, it beggars belief that the UN an institution born in the era of typewriters and telegrams remains frozen while the world leaps ahead to artificial intelligence and cryptocurrency.
Why has the UN become inured to archaic ways of doing things or a lack of progress and change?

If the UN is to survive as the cornerstone of global governance, it must evolve. Security Council reform is overdue, and Africa must be part of that change. Nigeria, as the continent’s largest democracy and economy, should lead—but leadership requires strategy.

That means taking bold steps to build alliances, leverage trade-offs, and position Nigeria as indispensable to the world’s security architecture. In other words, Nigerian foreign policy drivers have to become more pragmatic.
Kenya and Ghana are already playing the long game. We cannot afford business as usual.

Eight decades after the UN’s founding, the world has transformed beyond recognition. It’s time the UN—and Nigeria’s diplomacy—caught up.

At 80, the United Nations is looking more like a relic than a force for global stability. Secretary-General António Guterres’ UN80 initiative aims to modernize the institution, but reforms have been slow and resistance has been high.

The core problems are obvious:
• Outdated structure – Built for 51 member states in 1945, the UN now serves 193 and still runs on Cold War rules.
• Chronic funding gaps – The U.S. owes $1.5 billion and other donors are pulling back.
• Security Council inequality – Five permanent members hold veto power while Africa, Latin America, and much of Asia remain sidelined.
• Bureaucratic bloat – Layers of overlapping mandates bog down action.

Meanwhile, an evolving and aggressive rival to the UN, BRICS is rising fast. With 11 members representing 56% of the world’s population—including China, Russia, India, Brazil, Saudi Arabia, the UAE, Iran, and Egypt—BRICS offers a very tempting rival vision of global order.

The timing is dire. Wars rage in Ukraine, Gaza, Sudan, and DR Congo fueling humanitarian disasters. Rather than tamping down conflicts, the UN increasingly looks like a bystander—its sanctions ignored, its resolutions toothless, its credibility fading.

Reform can’t wait. The Security Council must expand to include new economic and military powerhouses that have emerged across the seven (7) continents of the world. Bureaucracy must be streamlined and enforcement mechanisms rebuilt. Otherwise, the UN risks losing trust entirely, pushing more nations toward BRICS if it offers peace and progress which the UN is struggling unsuccessfully to engender and foster.

The world is in turmoil. The UN was created to prevent exactly this moment. Either it reinvents itself now—or it becomes an artifact of the past.

Magnus Onyibe, an entrepreneur, public policy analyst, author, democracy advocate, development strategist, and alumnus of the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy, Tufts University, Massachusetts, USA, is a Commonwealth Institute scholar and a former commissioner in the Delta State government. He sent this piece from Lagos.

Recently, President Bola Tinubu announced that over 126 million Nigerians had been enrolled in the National Identity Database. He noted that the achievement underscored the Federal Government’s commitment to digital transformation, national security and inclusive governance.

At an event where he was represented by the Secretary to Government George Akume, the president was full of praise for National Identity Management Commission (NIMC), extolling them for recently clearing a backlog of roughly 2.5 million records, and for speeding up enrolment all the while imbuing the process with more transparency. He further highlighted some interesting statistics like for instance, the roughly half million record updates that have been carried via web and mobile self-service apps and the fact that about 800 enrolment devices have been deployed nationwide to expand coverage. Also highlighted were the new territorial offices been established to improve oversight and service delivery.

Reflecting on the theme of the event, “Public Key Infrastructure: Backbone to Digital Public Infrastructure,” the president stressed that a robust identity system is central to building trust in Nigeria’s digital economy. He further pointed out that improved governance and the rollout of effective social security depended on the integration of public service delivery with secure identity management.

The president would go on to cite the success stories that the system had enabled like the reductions in pensions fraud, swift disbursement of student loans and scholarships, the accurate targeting of farmer incentives, and the access to humanitarian support for displaced persons, among other success stories.

The president disclosed that the expansion has extended beyond Nigeria’s borders, noting that more than 200 diaspora centres now serve Nigerians abroad, while dedicated enrolment exercises have registered refugees, internally displaced persons and inmates of correctional facilities. In addition, a disability inclusion policy has trained over 5,000 enrolment agents to better serve persons with disabilities.

The national identity database has a capacity to handle 250 million records. This is to ensure that no Nigerian cannot be catered for by the enrolment exercise. NIMC has also integrated with 125 partner agencies to create a unified ecosystem that saves costs and improves service delivery. Some of the key MDAs that have been integrated with include: Nigeria Immigration Service for passports, the Federal Inland Revenue Service for tax records, the National Population Commission for birth registration, the National Health Insurance Authority for healthcare enrolment, Universal Basic Education for school records and the Nigerian Communications Commission for NIN-SIM Linkage (the NIN-SIM linkage has helped to reduce fraud and increase national security).

In a statement by the special adviser, media and publicity to the Secretary to the Government of the Federation, Yomi Odunuga, the president emphasized that the National Identity Number (NIN) provides seamless access to government services, drives financial inclusion, strengthens national planning and enhances security. He said the NIN has become vital for eliminating ghost beneficiaries, streamlining social programmes and ensuring subsidies reach those who truly need them.

He added that the NIN now facilitates banking, telecommunications, healthcare and education services while enabling citizens to participate fully in the digital economy. He stressed that integration of the NIN across sectors will reduce fraud, boost revenue collection and position Nigeria competitively in global technology-driven development.

The president concluded by reaffirming that the identity system is not just bureaucratic busywork but a key pillar of inclusive growth and national security.

Most countries around the world did not have digital identity management systems prior to the year 2000. Most systems were paper-based and were often fragmented, slow and vulnerable to fraud.

Between 2000 and 2010, countries generally started digitizing their civil registries and identity databases. A notable pioneer was Estonia whose e-ID program launched in 2002, became a model of digital governance. Another notable was India, whose Aadhaar program, launched in 2009, assigned unique digital IDs to over a billion citizens.

Between 2010 and 2020, over 100 countries had adopted digital ID systems, integrating them with banking, healthcare, and social services. Some countries’ systems like Singapore’s SingPass, Sweden’s BankID, and Canada’s Verified.Me became models of secure, user-friendly systems.

The Covid-19 pandemic saw Digital ID systems being used to deliver relief payments, verify vaccination status, and enable remote access to services. Countries like South Korea, Germany, and Japan expanded digital ID use for public health and economic recovery.

As a result of increasing concerns surrounding data privacy, governments in the last few years began addressing concerns around surveillance, data protection, and inclusion. This has led to emphasis shifting to privacy-by-design, user consent, and interoperability across platforms.

Nigeria’s journey with digital identity management seems to have been the fairly typical country experience. Prior to 1999, Identity systems in the country were fragmented and paper-based, leading to a great deal of duplication and inefficiency.

The return of democracy saw early attempts at reform. The government began exploring digital identity systems to support governance and service delivery, though initial efforts were limited in scope and lacked coordination.

The year 2007 saw the establishment of the Nigeria Identity Management Commission (NIMC). NIMC was given the mandate to develop, and manage Nigeria’s national identity database and issue the National Identification Number (NIN).

In 2014, NIMC introduced a biometric-based electronic ID card linked to the NIN. As of early 2025, NIMC has issued biometric-based electronic ID cards to approximately 115 million Nigerians. The latest version is a multi-purpose biometric ID card that supports digital payments, social interventions (health insurance, student loans, agricultural support), and of course, identity verification. The rollout of the new card aligns with Nigeria’s Renewed Hope Agenda and aims to integrate identity with financial and social services.

Now, September’s rains are here again. Nigeria has issued flood alerts for 11 states between September 14 and 18, 2025, warning of torrential rains and rising rivers. High-risk areas stretch from Benue to Zamfara, including Makurdi, Rijau, Karaye, Jibia, Makira, and Gusau.

The National Flood Early Warning Centre has raised alarms over swelling levels in the Gongola, Benue, and Niger rivers. Residents on floodplains have been urged to evacuate—but many may have nowhere to go. Without safe shelters and clear evacuation plans, official warnings can only do so much.

Nigeria’s rainy season is already among the longest in Africa—up to 290 days in the South. But climate change is making storms more violent and floods less predictable. Lagos, with its 15–20 million residents, is scrambling to clear blocked drains as a pre-emptive strike.

The lesson from Alau Dam and Guadalupe River is simple: early warning must be matched with early action. Preparing secure shelters, clearing drainage systems, and enforcing floodplain zoning are no longer optional—they’re survival measures.

If Nigeria doesn’t act decisively, September’s rains could turn into another season of preventable tragedy.

Building a Flood-Resilient Lagos: Lessons from Past Disasters

As part of its drive to build a flood-resilient Lagos and minimize the impact of flooding on lives and property, the state government has embarked on an ambitious large-scale drainage project to address perennial flooding across key parts of the metropolis.

This project includes expanding water channels, upgrading existing drainage systems, and ensuring the free flow of stormwater during heavy rains. Temporary pumping stations have been established in areas such as Adeniji Adele Underbridge to remove excess water and provide immediate relief to affected communities. Resilient drainage infrastructure is also being upgraded in areas like Park View Estate and Lagos Island.

The government is emphasizing proper waste disposal and warning residents against dumping refuse in gutters. Early-warning systems have been introduced to alert residents of potential flooding so they can take precautions, and community awareness campaigns are underway. Authorities are engaging directly with residents and stakeholders to stress the importance of maintaining clear drains and preventing blockages.

Government is not alone.

Some like-minded Nigerians in Lagos have grouped themselves under the name -Environmental Angels. It is led by Patrick Oke, and it includes Tayo Gbajabiamila, Linda Uthman, Soni Irabor, and Gboyega Adelaja as well as yours truly. The mission to enlighten Lagosians in particular and Nigerians in general about how to keep our environment free of the sort of trash that could impede the free flow of drainage and exacerbate the climate-induced environmental challenges our country and indeed the world is grappling with.

All these measures are intended to prevent the unnecessary loss of lives and property during the rainy season and avert the kind of disasters seen elsewhere.

There is an African proverb: “Once a child is burned by fire, he or she runs from even a spark.” The horrific Alau Dam disaster remains fresh in the minds of Nigerians—officially 30 lives were lost, but locals estimate as many as 150 deaths. States like Lagos are therefore taking proactive steps to prevent similar tragedies. The same approach can be extended to other coastal regions of Nigeria where emergency procedures are being put in place to reduce risk.

Flood disasters are not new to Nigeria. One of the most infamous was the Ogunpa River flood in Ibadan, Oyo State. On August 31, 1980, heavy rainfall caused the Ogunpa River to overflow, killing more than 300 people and destroying property on a massive scale. That tragedy left a lasting imprint on Nigeria’s flood management strategies. In much the same way, the Alau Dam disaster of September 2024 has become a wake-up call for renewed vigilance.

Climate change—and the flooding it exacerbates—respects no borders. Nigeria’s experience mirrors that of the United States, where the Guadalupe River in Texas overflowed catastrophically on July 4, 2025. As in Maiduguri, heavy rainfall led to rapid river rise. At least 135 people were confirmed dead, with Kerr County suffering 117 fatalities alone. More than 12,100 structures were damaged across communities such as Kerrville and Hunt.

According to meteorologists, the flooding in Texas was triggered by a mesoscale convective vortex combined with tropical moisture from the remnants of Tropical Storm Barry—dumping four months’ worth of rain in just a few days.

Together, these disasters underscore the urgent need for proactive planning, resilient infrastructure, and community preparedness in the face of intensifying climate impacts.

Guadalupe River vs. Alau Dam Flooding: Lessons for Nigeria

The Guadalupe River flooding has been described as one of the deadliest freshwater disasters in the United States in 50 years, surpassing the death toll of Hurricane Helene in 2024. For a first-world country like the U.S., it was a major—and even embarrassing—event.

Readers may wonder: what distinguishes the Alau Dam flooding disaster in Maiduguri, Nigeria, from the Texas tragedy? Despite occurring thousands of miles apart and in different hemispheres, both disasters left similar death tolls and destruction in their wake.

Yet there are important differences.

The Alau Dam flooding was driven by a combination of heavy rainfall, poor maintenance, and dam mismanagement—failings often linked to a weak maintenance culture in Nigeria. In contrast, the Texas flooding was triggered by heavy rainfall, tropical moisture, and a rare weather phenomenon known as a mesoscale convective vortex—a freak weather event rather than infrastructural neglect.

The consequences reflected these differences. The Alau Dam’s collapse caused a sudden, catastrophic release of water, affecting over one million people, displacing hundreds of thousands, and destroying critical infrastructure. The Texas flooding caused at least 135 confirmed deaths, with widespread damage in communities such as Kerrville and Hunt, but it was marked by a more gradual rise in water levels.

The response efforts also diverged sharply. In Nigeria, relief operations were hampered by security challenges and allegations of corruption, leaving many survivors without adequate support. In Texas, response efforts were swift and coordinated, with multiple agencies, including FEMA, deploying resources for search and rescue.

Why emphasize these differences? They reveal the unique challenges and lessons embedded in each disaster. The Nigerian Meteorological Centre, for instance, appears to have learned from past failures. It recently issued early flood alerts covering 11 states in September.

State governments such as Lagos and Delta also seem to be working to minimize loss of life and property, as reflected in media reports of drainage clearing and embankment construction. Hopefully, these proactive measures will also prevent the terrifying scenes of last year, when crocodiles, hippos, and other reptiles were flushed into riverine communities during floods.

The comparison between the Alau Dam disaster and the Guadalupe River basin flood underscores a simple truth: climate change is a global challenge. But given the U.S.’s experience and Nigeria’s vulnerabilities, Nigeria should adopt the best practices of advanced countries rather than reinvent the wheel.

The U.S., despite being the richest and most powerful country in the world, also contends with deserts—from Texas to Nevada—as Nigeria contends with the Sahel in Kano, Maiduguri, and Sokoto. Likewise, it has aquatic states like Florida that mirror Lagos, the Delta, and Rivers. Nigerian states sharing ecological similarities with U.S. states could adopt their development paradigms and seek mentorship to improve disaster preparedness.

This proposition may seem idealistic, but, as the saying goes, little drops of water make an ocean. China became an economic powerhouse partly because of its openness to external mentorship. When U.S. President Richard Nixon visited China in 1972, he set in motion a new era of trade and infrastructure development, later consolidated by President Jimmy Carter in 1979. Barely 50 years later, China rose to become the world’s second-largest economy.

By learning from the U.S. and fostering such partnerships, Nigerian states could transform disaster preparedness and resilience into a broader pathway for development. Who knows—if our leaders take bold action, Nigeria could one day mirror China’s dramatic economic rise.

Magnus Onyibe, an entrepreneur, public policy analyst, author, democracy advocate, development strategist, and alumnus of the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy, Tufts University, Massachusetts, USA, is a Commonwealth Institute scholar and a former commissioner in the Delta State government.

The narrative following the very offensive Yahaya Bello clip where he was seen ‘advising’ alleged Members of the Kogi State House of Assembly played to the gallery and leveraged our eagerness to accept such a narrative as we continue to ‘sorrowrise’ about the situation in this Country.

Following our inability to fight and push back, we have majorly turned ourselves to a nation of cowards who collectively fold our hands and stand with chewing sticks in our mouth and like Chinua Achebe’s Unoka just lament and wear our badges of shame with pride and with heads still bowed

This is why we were quick to accept the wrong narrative of that clip and quickly share it with additional captions illustrating just how Nigeria is ‘finished’.

But as I looked through the clip, I remained excited and engaged. I am currently working on a Book – Maddtimes power list Coffee table – where We are mapping Power and Influence in our country

The theoretical structure of the book is built around the fact that structural power has failed us as a nation and by structural power, we mean power gotten by Ballot and appointment or any power secured thru structural means including traditional title holders

So for us, real power is charismatic power. Vision driven power and power that emanates from sheer guts, drive, courage and boldness. We have gone further to say that this power may not always be seen in a positive light by the generality of the people

In this regard, people not well regarded by society but continue to show charisma and vision driven drive would make the book. Bare it in mind that the building blocks of politics and governance are ambigous and do not let themselves to structured and boxed in definitions

So concepts like ‘good, just, fair, interest’ amongst others avail themselves floating definitions all guided and pushed by self interest. So for example Trump can be a very ‘good’ Leader to those who his policies are benefitting and a ‘bad’ leader to those who are receiving a beating by his policies. Same with Nigeria’s Bola Tinubu – millions are standing on his mandate just as millions are hating him for his policies

It is in this wise, that some people who would make our list and book may not be there by popular choice but will make the book by their sheer understanding of the concept of charismatic power and influence and with the way they deploy it

So, back to the Yahaya Bello clip.

Now, what I saw there was a positive use of power and influence. What I saw there was a powerful man with all the charisma in the world speaking to a people who have been beholden by his sheer guts, courage, boldness and carriage. I didnt see any compulsion on his part when he asked the people to sit down. They all obeyed him very voluntarily and looked up to him with fervour

Now the clip didnt show if there were enforcers outside waiting to break the knees of those who didn’t obey or if there were any threat muted or otherwise that ensured compliance. What I saw there was qauint obedience, almost spiritual fervour in compliance and general love for a leader no matter how he got there.

This is power at its best. Now its up to the observer to define and box it by labelling it either positive or negatibe. But as a scholar of power, what I saw there was naked raw charismatic power the type we are documenting.

This is exactly the kind of power Nnamdi Kanu of Ipob is wielding. His words from prison stoping economic activities in a whole region, keeping the biafran hope alive by sheer charisma and using his oratorial skills to push a narrative desite his lack of freedom

Chief Obasanjo wields that kind of power and influence making his home a shrine for people seeking structured power. Remember the incident where Obasanjo asked traditional rulers to all stand up and they immediately did

Now let’s go back to the Yahaya clip.

Look again and you would see one man standing in total submission with his hands clasped to his crotch and head in continous bowing motion and standing as Yahaya spoke. That is a classic case of a man zombified by power snd influence.

He is a breathren and can be likened to members of cults or huge churches. In this case logic and rationality has been beaten out of his brains and he has become a slave to his master and must follow all instructions no matter what.

You find these types in Nigeria’s mega churches, North Korea and Mormon communities of Salt Lake Utah in America.

So unlike most of you, what I saw in that Yahaya clip was a man who has parlayed structured power as a former Governor into a charismatic hold on power where despite the absence of constitional power, he still controls the one who has constituional power and his minions

Remember how the sitting Governor Ododo ran to his rescue during his travails with the EFCC and the rest. Now what is remaining for Yahaya Bello is how to deploy this his immence power whether for the good of the people or in continuation of the pursuit of his self interest

But remember very quickly that I have said in this write up that what is good or what is best really and truly can only be defined from the prisms of self interest.

So the only sure thing here is that Yahaya Bello has won my nomination into the Maddtimes 100 most powerful and influential Nigerians 2025 for his sheer grasp of Charismatic Power snd Influence no matter how he deploys it.

Come and beat me.

Duke of Shomolu