By Dr. Sani Sa’idu Baba

Having traveled extensively across Nigeria over the years, I have had the privilege of observing firsthand the realities of governance and development in different parts of our country. I first visited Osun State in 2021 and again in May 2022. During those visits, I traveled through several communities and observed the developmental realities on the ground. Recently, I returned to Osun, and I must confess that I could hardly recognize the state I once knew. The transformation I witnessed was remarkable and convincing enough for me to conclude that if the additional revenues accruing to states from fuel subsidy removal were utilized the way Governor Ademola Adeleke of Osun State, Governor Abba Kabir Yusuf of Kano State, and Governor Alex Otti of Abia State have utilized theirs, President Bola Ahmed Tinubu would not be facing the level of criticism he receives across the country today.

Since the removal of fuel subsidy in May 2023, Nigerians have endured enormous hardship. Transportation costs have skyrocketed, food prices have become unbearable, rents have increased dramatically, and many families struggle daily to survive. Yet while citizens bore the pains of the policy, state governments began receiving unprecedented revenues from the Federation Account. The real issue therefore is no longer whether subsidy was removed, but what governors are doing with the resources generated from that decision.

Based on my observations across the country, I have come to a simple conclusion: Osun State has become one of the clearest examples of how subsidy-related revenues can be translated into visible development when leadership is focused on the people.

Healthcare provides one of the strongest examples. Through the Imole Medical Outreach Programme, thousands of residents have received free medical treatment, including surgeries for cataracts and hernia, services many families could never have afforded under normal circumstances. Thousands of senior citizens and vulnerable residents have also been enrolled in the Osun Health Insurance Scheme free of charge, ensuring that healthcare is not reserved only for the wealthy.

Beyond healthcare, the Adeleke administration has implemented various social intervention programmes aimed at cushioning the effects of economic hardship. Through the Imole Business Empowerment Scheme, small business owners have received support in the form of POS terminals, start-up grants, and interest-free loans. These interventions have particularly benefited women, youths, and cooperative societies, creating opportunities for economic survival during difficult times.

Infrastructure development is equally visible across the state. During my recent visit, I personally observed significant improvements in parts of Osogbo, Ede, Iwo, and Gbogan. Roads that were once difficult to navigate have received attention, while rural electrification projects and portable borehole water schemes have extended development beyond the urban centers.

Before my recent visit to Osun State, I came across a video of former President Olusegun Obasanjo speaking during the commissioning of some of Governor Adeleke’s projects, including the VIP Lodge and major road networks. In his characteristic jovial manner, Chief Obasanjo remarked in Yoruba: “Mr Governor, they call you a dancer. But you are dancing to praise God. And I heard you are working hard for your people.” He urged Governor Adeleke to ignore distractions and the shortcomings of previous administrations and remain focused on delivering dividends of democracy to the people. At the time, I considered it a generous endorsement from a respected elder statesman. However, after my recent visit to Osun, I now better understand why Obasanjo made those remarks.

One experience stood out for me. Seeing light virtually everywhere across Osogbo helped me understand why Governor Adeleke is popularly called “Imole.” In Yoruba, Imole means “Light,” and the visible improvements in infrastructure, electrification, and public services across the state give practical meaning to that nickname. Development, after all, is the light that dispels the darkness of poverty and neglect.

Governor Adeleke’s commitment to long-term development is equally evident in its approach to the power sector. By signing the Osun Electricity Law, Governor Adeleke positioned the state to address chronic electricity challenges through off-grid and renewable energy solutions. This is the kind of forward-thinking policy many states should be emulating.

Education has not been neglected. Instructional materials have been distributed to schools, and the state’s performance in national examinations has reportedly improved significantly. Combined with the payment of salary and pension arrears inherited from previous administrations, these measures have helped restore confidence among workers, retirees, students, and families across the state.

In retrospect, my initial criticism of President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s subsidy removal policy was understandable, given the uncertainty and hardship that followed. Today, however, I see the issue differently. The policy itself is not necessarily the problem. The bigger challenge lies with governors who fail to translate increased revenues into tangible benefits for their citizens.

Osun State, much like Kano and Abia States, has demonstrated that when leadership is people-oriented, even painful economic reforms can produce meaningful outcomes.

In fact, President Tinubu owes Governors Ademola Adeleke, Abba Kabir Yusuf, and Alex Otti a sincere thank you. These governors have shown Nigerians what subsidy-derived revenues can accomplish when managed responsibly. Their performances have given citizens practical examples of what they should be demanding from their respective state governments.

More importantly, they have exposed the scale of resources now available to states. Citizens can now ask legitimate questions: If these states can build roads, improve healthcare, support businesses, expand social welfare programmes, and invest in education, what is preventing others from doing the same?

The real debate surrounding subsidy removal is therefore no longer about the availability of resources but about the quality of leadership managing those resources. If Nigeria truly wants to understand what the benefits of subsidy removal should look like, it should stop listening to excuses and start studying examples such as Osun, Kano, and Abia States.

As an outsider with no political stake in Osun State, I believe the people of the state should carefully reflect on the transformation they have witnessed under Governor Ademola Adeleke. Elections are ultimately a report card on performance. They should be about results rather than rhetoric, delivery rather than promises, and tangible impact rather than partisan sentiments. When leaders demonstrate commitment to improving the lives of ordinary people, democracy demands that such performance be acknowledged and encouraged.

For me, the contrast between the Osun I saw in 2021 and the Osun I recently revisited is striking. The difference is visible, measurable, and difficult to ignore. If the current pace of development is sustained, Osun may well become one of the strongest examples in Nigeria of how responsible leadership can convert public resources into public good.

The lesson is simple: when leadership works, even difficult policies can produce positive results. And when leadership fails, even abundant resources become invisible to the people they are meant to serve.

Dr. Sani Sa’idu Baba writes from Kano, and can be reached via drssbaba@yahoo.com

By Dare Babarinsa

It is 33 years since we lined up to vote for Chief Moshood Abiola to become the President of Nigeria. It is now like ancient history. More than half of Nigeria’s population today was not even born then. June 12, 1993, was a pivotal day in our country’s march to constitutional democracy. On that date, Nigerians were given the option of picking one of two. Abiola’s opponent was the Kano businessman, Bashir Tofa, the candidate of the National Republican Convention, NRC. Abiola was of the Social Democratic Party, SDP. The truth was that both parties were sponsored by the military regime of General Ibrahim Babangida and it was difficult to know which one to pick. Then the majority picked Abiola.

When TELL magazine hit the newsstand in April 1991, we thought we were on the threshold of democracy. The self-appointed military President had promised that he would hand over power in 1991, then he shifted it to 1992, and then 1993. I met the Minister of Information, Chief Alex Akinyele, to seek an explanation for this constant changing of the goalposts. He said blandly that it was because “the transition programme is elastic!”

Dr Bala Usman, the radical Katsina prince and teacher at Ahmadu Bello University, warned that Babangida had a hidden agenda. Chief Gani Fawehinmi and Alhaji Balarabe Musa alerted us that if Nigerians want democracy, we must be ready to fight for it. A few days after we voted, our colleague, Nduka Irabor, the chief press secretary to Admiral Augustus Aikhomu, the Vice-President, distributed a press statement in Abuja, telling Nigerians that the military junta had annulled the election. By that time, though it had not been officially announced by Professor Humphrey Nwosu, the chairman of the National Electoral Commission, NEC, it was clear that Abiola had won the presidential election according to returns from the states.

Nigerians were up in arms against the military regime, calling for the full results of the election to be released. Babangida said no. Then he sent his goons to hunt down opposition elements. One Sunday afternoon, we were in the office when the TELL premises were surrounded. We had scheduled a meeting for that afternoon. Therefore, it was easy for them to pick up Nosa Igiebor, Editor-in-Chief, Onome Osifo-Whiskey, the Managing Editor, Kolawole Ilori, the Executive Editor and Ayodele Akinkuotu, the General Editor. The four big men were then taken to Shangisha, the Lagos headquarters of the notorious State Security Service, SSS. The following day, they were driven furiously to Abuja, where they were kept in a police cell until Babangida was forced out of power on August 27, 1993.

Babangida was succeeded by boardroom titan, Chief Ernest Shonekan, who became the Head of the Interim National Government, ING. After the overthrow of Chief Shonekan, I went to Chief Alfred Rewane in the company of my friend, Funminiyi Afuye. Baba Rewane believed that the new regime of General Sani Abacha would be our friend. He said Abacha was a nice man who had served as a General Officer Commanding in Ibadan and was well known to many of our friends. Besides, General Oladipo Diya, former Governor of Ogun State and now Abacha’s deputy, had met our leaders. He promised that “our stay will be brief.”

We misread Abacha seriously and paid dearly for it. One of the most active members in the struggle was my friend, Gbenga Adebusuyi, who played a prominent role in the Alpha Group under the leadership of Chief Bola Ige. When the goons came for Adebusuyi, he was not home and then they arrested his father and his wife. Eventually, Adebusuyi gave himself up. His father was released after many days in the cell. Baba died later. His wife spent three months in detention. Adebusuyi was in detention for many months.

Kazeem, who played a prominent role in setting up Radio Freedom (later Radio Kudirat) transmitter in a secret location in Ikeja, was killed in a mysterious bomb blast opposite the Air Force barracks. Omojola, who was our colleague in the Alpha Group, was captured with ‘subversive materials’ and detained for many months in Ibadan. He died shortly after his release. Of course, the martyrdom of Bagauda Kaltho, the reporter for TheNews magazine, was well reported.

There are too many heroes of the June 12 struggle. I remember Otunba Olabiyi Durojaiye with his bushy beard after many months in the gulag of the Directorate of Military Intelligence, DMI, where he shared detention in the distinguished company of Professor Akinjide Osuntokun, former Nigerian ambassador to Germany. It took a lot of effort for the SSS to capture Ayo Opadokun, who also grew a luxuriant beard. Olusegun Osoba fled home for many months while the SSS were on his trail, moving from one safe house to another. The publisher of Razor magazine, Moshood Fayemiwo, was captured and kept in an underground DMI cell for almost two years. Soji Omotunde, editor of the African Concord was captured on the road, beaten, and became a half-criple. Today, he is facing a serious health challenge. Osifo-Whiskey and Igiebor were to spend many months in prison.

Then the arranged coups that corralled innocent people like Dr Beko Ransome-Kuti, Kunle Ajibade, Ben Charles Obi, Niran Malaolu, Chris Anyanwu, George Mba, General Olusegun Obasanjo, Major-General Shehu Musa Yar’Adua, Colonel Gabriel Ajayi, Colonel Olusegun Oloruntoba (now His Majesty, the Olugbede of Gbede Kingdom in Kogi State), and others who became victims of phantom coup plots. The list of heroes and victims is endless. We have professionals like Olisa Agbakoba, Fola Adeola, Tola Mobolurin, Bayo Adenekan, Femi Yerokun, Pascal Idowu, Bayo Onanuga, Babafemi Ojudu, Dapo Olorunyomi, Seye Kehinde, Dayo Adeyeye, Anwo Kayode, Adedokun Abolarin (now our father, the Orangun of Oke-Ila), Demola Oyinlola, Professor Rotimi Akinola, Professor Akin Onigbinde, Professor Omikorede, Deji Sasegbon, Alao Adedayo, Dele Momodu, Ademola Adeniji-Adele, Tokunbo Ajasin, Rotimi Obadofin, Kunle Famoriyo, Ayo Afolabi, Abiodun Aremu, Joe Igbokwe, Seye Kehinde, and many others. Moneybags like Chief Michael Ade-Ojo, Otunba Gbenga Daniel, and Chief Deinde Fernadez were in a special class.

In the forefront were our fathers: the indomitable Chief Michael Adekunle Ajasin, Senator Abraham Adesanya, Chief Bola Ige, Chief Reuben Fasoranti, Sir Olanihun Ajayi, Chief Ayo Adebanjo, Otunba Solanke Onasanya, Chief Olu Falae, Chief Alfred Rewane, Air Commodore Dan Suleiman, Commodore Ebitu Ukiwe, Admiral Ndubuisi Kanu, Chief Arthur Nwankwo, Mr Udenta O. Udenta, Dr Wahab Dosumu, and Dr Femi Okunronmu. Chief Gani Fawehinmi and his paladins were the special heroes of the struggle; Femi Falana, Baba Omojola, Shehu Sani, Uba Sani, Festus Keyamo and all those irrepressible boys and girls in Gani’s law firm, including my friend, now His Lordship, Honourable Justice Abiodun Akinyemi. The list is endless. That is why the President cannot honour everybody in one year. The list has to be updated regularly before history becomes myth. I can only remember a few during this peregrination.
The exile team was led by Chief Anthony Enahoro, and comprises leaders like Professor Wole Soyinka, Professor Bolaji Akinyemi, Senator Bola Ahmed Tinubu, and General Alani Akinrinade. On their team were the likes of Ropo Sekoni, Bolaji Aluko, Kayode Fayemi, Bolaji Aluko, Sola Adeyeye, Kole Omololu and Kayode Oladimeji
In 1996, it was agreed that Chief Anthony Enahoro, co-chairman of the opposition National Democratic Coalition, NADECO, had to go into exile after spending several months in the Lagos underground, moving from one safe house to another. He finally ended up in the Ikeja home of Dr Amos Akingba, the redoubtable risk-taker and hero of the struggle. Akingba was the greatest collaborator with General Alani Akinrinade during those testy times before the two of them fled into exile. Enahoro was an elderly man who was wise in the ways of our ancestors. He insisted that before he would go into exile, he must touch base at his home in Benin. One of our leaders arranged security escorts for him to go to Benin and back as he requested. One Sunday morning, I was in Akingba’s house, and I joined the convoy of cars that escorted Baba Enahoro to Mile 2 on his way to exile. The escort team was led by the redoubtable Dr Frederick Fasehun, the founder and leader of the Oodua Peoples Congress, OPC. Dr Akingba has now retired to his country home in Ode-Irele, Ondo State.

People from different parts of the country participated. Soldiers risked their lives and commission to be part of the struggle. I still run into some of these people now and then, and you will not believe that these ordinary-looking people are the heroes of our Republic who risked everything so that Nigeria can be free from tyranny. Such was the nobility of our people; such courage, such ingenuity and capacity to hope when the situation appeared hopeless.

This short reminiscence is just to remind us that some people paid dearly for the current democracy. The greatest tribute we can pay the heroes is not to endanger it or take it for granted. That is the assignment of President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, one of the heroes of the struggle, and other current tenants of power. The survival of the Republic as a democracy is the President’s ultimate constituency project.

Dare Babarinsa, CON is the Chairman, Gaskia Media Ltd, and writes from Lagos

By Olukayode Majekodunmi

The controversy generated by the recent judgment reportedly directing the deregistration of the African Democratic Congress (ADC), Accord Party and several other political parties has moved beyond the confines of legal discourse. It has become a national conversation touching on the future of opposition politics, the integrity of judicial institutions and the resilience of Nigeria’s constitutional democracy.
As expected, public opinion has been sharply divided.

To some observers, the judgment represents a legitimate application of Section 225A of the Constitution, a long-overdue effort to sanitise the political landscape by removing parties that have failed to demonstrate minimal electoral relevance. To others, it signals a dangerous narrowing of democratic space and reinforces concerns that opposition politics is increasingly vulnerable to institutional pressures.

The truth, as is often the case in constitutional controversies, lies somewhere between these competing narratives.

There should be no serious disagreement regarding the constitutional framework itself. Section 225A of the Constitution of the Federal Republic of Nigeria empowers the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) to deregister political parties that fail to meet prescribed electoral thresholds. The provision emerged from the Fourth Alteration to the Constitution and was intended to address the proliferation of political parties that existed largely on paper, contributed little to democratic competition and complicated electoral administration.

The Supreme Court has affirmed the validity of that constitutional arrangement.
Consequently, it would be intellectually dishonest to suggest that deregistration, in and of itself, is unconstitutional. The Constitution contemplates circumstances under which political parties may cease to exist as legal entities. Constitutional democracy requires fidelity not only to rights but also to responsibilities.
However, acknowledging the existence of constitutional power is not the same as endorsing every exercise of that power.

The controversy surrounding this judgment does not arise because Section 225A exists. It arises because of serious questions regarding whether the constitutional provision was correctly applied to the facts before the court and whether the proceedings leading to the judgment complied with fundamental principles governing the administration of justice.

The constitutional threshold established under Section 225A is remarkably modest. A political party need not dominate the national political landscape to justify its continued existence. It need only demonstrate minimal electoral viability. The Constitution requires no more.

This is why the reported facts surrounding the African Democratic Congress are so significant.

Public records from the 2023 general elections indicate that the ADC secured representation in the House of Representatives and won seats in various State Houses of Assembly. If those electoral outcomes were acknowledged by INEC in the proceedings before the court, then an unavoidable legal question emerges: how does a political party that appears to have satisfied the constitutional threshold become constitutionally non-compliant?

The answer cannot simply be assumed.
The legitimacy of judicial reasoning depends upon its ability to reconcile legal conclusions with established facts.

Constitutional interpretation cannot transform electoral victories into constitutional deficiencies. If there exists a legal basis for arriving at such a conclusion, that basis must be articulated clearly and convincingly.

Equally important is the issue of locus standi.

Standing is often dismissed as a technical legal doctrine understood only by lawyers. In reality, it is one of the mechanisms through which constitutional democracies protect the integrity of judicial power.

Courts exist to resolve genuine disputes brought by parties with legally recognisable interests in the matters before them. They are not designed to serve as arenas for abstract political contests or ideological campaigns.

It is therefore entirely legitimate to ask: who were the plaintiffs in this case, and what legal injury had they suffered?
How were their rights affected by the continued existence of the affected political parties?

What was the nature of the interest that entitled them to seek judicial orders effectively extinguishing the legal personality of political organisations recognised under the Constitution?
These are not peripheral questions.
They are jurisdictional questions.

And jurisdiction remains the foundation upon which every valid judicial proceeding rests.

This aspect of the controversy invites a broader historical reflection.
Those old enough to remember the political crises of the early 1990s will recall the role played by the Association for Better Nigeria. Acting ostensibly in the national interest, that organisation became associated with one of the most regrettable episodes in Nigeria’s democratic history. Through legal and political interventions, it contributed to developments that frustrated the democratic aspirations embodied in the June 12 election.

History should never be invoked carelessly. The circumstances of today are different, and simplistic comparisons often obscure more than they illuminate.

Yet history serves an important purpose.
It reminds us that threats to democratic development do not always emerge through direct executive action. Sometimes they arise through the activities of private actors who seek judicial outcomes capable of restricting rather than expanding democratic choice. The lesson is not that citizens should be discouraged from approaching the courts. Rather, it is that courts must exercise exceptional caution whenever they are invited by private litigants to reshape the democratic landscape itself.

The preservation of democracy requires vigilance not only against executive overreach but also against the misuse of otherwise legitimate institutional processes.
Perhaps the most troubling dimension of this entire controversy, however, concerns reports that the Court of Appeal had already intervened in the matter prior to the delivery of the judgment.

According to publicly available reports, the appellate court had granted an order staying further proceedings pending the hearing and determination of an appeal arising from the suit. If those reports accurately reflect the procedural history of this case, then the implications are profound.

The hierarchy of courts is not an administrative convenience. It is a constitutional necessity.

The rule of law depends upon consistency, predictability and institutional discipline. Superior courts issue binding directives because the legal system cannot function effectively if subordinate courts operate independently of appellate supervision.
Orders of superior courts are not advisory opinions.

They are commands that derive their authority from the constitutional structure itself.

If a lower court proceeds in circumstances where a superior court has directed otherwise, difficult questions inevitably arise. The issue ceases to be merely whether a particular party won or lost a case. Instead, attention shifts to the integrity of the judicial process and the continued effectiveness of safeguards designed to preserve public confidence in the administration of justice.

This is why the implications of this judgment extend far beyond the fortunes of the ADC, Accord Party or any other affected political organisation.

They concern judicial propriety.
They concern institutional discipline.

They concern the credibility of constitutional governance.

There is also a broader political reality that should not be ignored.

Whether fairly or unfairly, actions affecting opposition parties invariably shape public perceptions regarding the openness of democratic competition. Democracies derive legitimacy not only from constitutional text but also from the confidence of citizens that political contests are conducted on a level playing field.

Strong governments generally seek validation through electoral success.

They organise.
They persuade.
They campaign.
They compete.
They trust the electorate.

Opposition parties are not inconveniences to be eliminated. They are indispensable components of democratic life. Their existence compels accountability, stimulates public debate and offers citizens alternative visions of governance.

Consequently, whenever developments create the appearance that political alternatives are being diminished through institutional mechanisms rather than democratic competition, a troubling perception emerges.

The perception is not one of confidence. It is one of insecurity. It is one of weekness.
Whether that perception accurately reflects reality is, in some respects, secondary. Perceptions influence legitimacy, and legitimacy remains essential to democratic stability.

This observation is not intended as an accusation against any political party or institution. Rather, it is a recognition of political reality. Governments confident in their popular mandate generally welcome the opportunity to demonstrate that confidence at the ballot box.
The existence of opposition should never provoke institutional anxiety.

It should inspire political engagement.
None of these observations should be understood as suggesting that political parties ought to remain registered indefinitely irrespective of constitutional requirements. If a political party genuinely fails to satisfy the standards prescribed by the Constitution, deregistration becomes an inevitable legal consequence.

Constitutional provisions are binding precisely because they apply even when their outcomes are inconvenient.

However, constitutional outcomes must emerge through constitutional processes.
The legitimacy of a destination cannot compensate for defects in the journey.
This is why appellate review has become so important.

The appellate courts must determine whether the affected parties satisfied the requirements of Section 225A. They must address the issue of standing of the plaintiffs. They must clarify the legal consequences of any subsisting order staying further proceedings. Most importantly, they must reassure Nigerians that constitutional disputes of immense political significance will continue to be resolved according to law rather than expediency.

Nigeria’s democratic experience has been shaped by sacrifice, resilience and an enduring insistence that political power must remain accountable to constitutional principles.

The lessons of that history should not be forgotten. Democracies rarely collapse dramatically.

More often, they erode gradually through small departures from established norms, each defended as an exception, each tolerated as a temporary necessity, until the cumulative effect becomes impossible to ignore.

That is why vigilance remains the price of liberty.

The questions raised by this judgment extend far beyond the immediate interests of the affected political parties.

Did the parties satisfy the constitutional threshold required for continued registration?

Did the plaintiffs possess the standing necessary to invoke the jurisdiction of the court?

Was there a subsisting order of the Court of Appeal staying further proceedings?
If so, what implications does that have for the validity of the judgment subsequently delivered?

These are not partisan questions.
They are constitutional questions.

The answers will shape not only the future of specific political parties but also the extent to which Nigerians continue to trust that democratic competition in the Fourth Republic will be governed by law, fairness and institutional restraint.

History often judges institutions not by their performance during periods of stability but by the choices they make in moments of controversy.

Future generations may look back upon this episode as an important test of Nigeria’s commitment to constitutional democracy.
One hopes they will conclude that when confronted with difficult questions involving law, politics and democratic choice, Nigeria’s institutions chose fidelity to the Constitution over expediency, principle over convenience and democracy over the temptations of the moment.

The country deserves nothing less.
And history demands nothing less.

Olukayode Majekodunmi can be reached via olukayodemajek@gmail.com