If you’ve been paying any attention to the Nigerian political landscape in the last two weeks, you’d think we were watching a political thriller rather than witnessing governance.
President Bola Tinubu’s declaration of a state of emergency in Rivers State has turned what should be a serious constitutional matter into a national spectacle that has everyone talking, arguing, and taking sides
Trust Nigerians to turn everything into a debate. From former presidents to Nobel laureates, everyone seems to have an opinion. Goodluck Jonathan, Atiku Abubakar, Peter Obi, Wole Soyinka – the list of political commentators is endless. The Nigeria Bar Association (NBA) has weighed in, legal minds are sharpening their arguments, and the political circus is in full swing, with the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) already sharpening their legal weapons, ready to drag this matter to court faster than you can say “political drama”. Many people have also been calling on the Nigerian Governors’ Forum (NGF) to intervene.
But here’s what most Nigerians don’t understand – and I mean truly don’t understand. The NGF is not some political attack dog waiting to bark at every political disagreement. Most people shouting about the NGF’s silence probably couldn’t tell you what the forum actually does if their lives depended on it.
As a reporter with years of experience covering the NGF, let me break it down. The NGF has six core mandate areas: Agriculture, Education, Economy, Healthcare, Infrastructure/Policy, and Security. They’re not a political wrestling ring where governors come to settle personal scores. Their job is to foster collaboration, not create division. It’s like expecting the principal to intervene in every classroom squabble – that’s not how institutional leadership works.
When the NGF’s Director-General, Abdulateef Shittu, explained their silence, he was crystal clear. Taking sides in partisan issues would be like walking through a minefield blindfolded.
Remember, these are governors from different political parties – one wrong move could turn their forum into a battleground. Their statement was a masterclass in diplomatic restraint: “The Forum is an umbrella body for subnational governments. Our role is to promote unified policy positions and work with stakeholders to drive socioeconomic development.”
Personally, I find their stance refreshing. In a country where every political disagreement turns into a tribal war, here’s an organisation choosing wisdom over noise. They’re saying, in essence, “We’ll focus on governance, not political theatrics.”
The forum has survived major divisions in the past, and they’re not about to become cannon fodders in another political skirmish.
Let’s talk about what President Tinubu actually did. He suspended Governor Siminalayi Fubara, his deputy, Ngozi Odu, and all elected members of the Rivers State House of Assembly. In their place, he appointed retired Vice Admiral Ibokette Ibas as the state’s Administrator. The President was clear – the administrator won’t make new laws but will oversee governance.
Some will call this an overreach. Others will see it as necessary intervention. But here’s my take – governance has been crippled in Rivers State, and something had to give. The political crisis in the state had reached a point where effective administration became nearly impossible. It’s like watching two elephants fight – the grass suffers.
Let’s rewind a bit. How did we get here? The roots of this crisis go deep into the political soil of Rivers State. The relationship between Governor Fubara and his political godfather, Nyesom Wike, had been a ticking time bomb. Political godfatherism in Nigeria is a complex beast – a relationship that often resembles a toxic marriage more than a political mentorship.
Some will argue that Tinubu’s intervention is setting a dangerous precedent. What happens when political disagreements become grounds for removing an entire state government? It’s a valid concern. The line between necessary intervention and political vendetta is thin, and we’ve seen how such interventions can be abused in our political history.
The real question is not about the NGF’s silence or Tinubu’s intervention. The real question is: How did we get here? How did a state blessed with such resources – oil, economic potential, intelligent people – become a battlefield of political egos?
Politicians will always be politicians. They’ll fight, they’ll grandstand, they’ll create drama. But the people of Rivers State? They just want good governance. They want roads, they want schools, they want security. They want leaders who put their interests first.
There’s a broader context we can’t ignore. This is not just about Rivers State. This is about the complex power dynamics that define Nigerian politics. It’s about godfathers and godchildren, about political loyalty and betrayal, about the intricate dance of power that plays out in our democratic space.
The judicial system will likely have the final say. The PDP’s threat to go to court is not just posturing – it’s a legitimate constitutional pathway. Our democracy, for all its flaws, provides mechanisms for challenging such decisions. And that’s something we should appreciate, despite the challenges.
As this political drama continues to unfold, one thing is certain – Nigeria’s political landscape is never boring. Just when you think you’ve seen it all, another act begins. Rivers State is just the latest stage for this never-ending performance.
And the show goes on. Who knows what next week will bring? In Nigerian politics, today’s crisis is tomorrow’s footnote, and today’s suspension might be tomorrow’s reconciliation.
The only constant is change. And drama. Lots and lots of drama.
