The Alaafin of Oyo, Oba Abimbola Akeem Owoade I, has stated that only the throne of Oyo has the authority to confer chieftaincy titles that carry the name “Yorubaland.”

The monarch made this declaration during the installation of Senator Abdul-Aziz Yari as Obaloyin of Yorubaland and Barrister Seyi Tinubu as Okanlomo of Yorubaland on Sunday at Aganju Forecourt, Aafin Oyo.

Oba Owoade emphasised that chieftaincy in Yoruba culture is not a matter of favour or decoration but a duty that comes with responsibility.

He explained that the Oyo throne has historically served as a central coordinating authority for the Yoruba people, a role recognised both during colonial administration and in post-independence governance.

The Alaafin highlighted that titles bearing the name “Yorubaland” are collective titles representing the Yoruba people as a whole, not individual towns or kingdoms, and must therefore be conferred by an authority whose reach spans the entire region.

He noted that colonial records, post-independence councils, scholarly works, and the Supreme Court of Nigeria have all affirmed this historical authority.

Oba Owoade described the newly installed titles as positions of trust requiring courage, loyalty, and service to the Yoruba people.

He added that such honours are meant to bind recipients more closely to Yorubaland and reinforce that authority, tradition, and respect for boundaries are central to sustaining Yoruba culture.

He urged the new titleholders to serve with humility and to ensure that their honours contribute to unity, dignity, and the collective good of Yorubaland.

He said: “We are gathered here today for a purpose that goes beyond celebration. We are here to witness history and to place responsibility where tradition has long placed it. Chieftaincy, in our culture, is not an act of favour. It is not decoration. It is duty, conferred only when history, authority, and responsibility align.

“From the earliest organisation of the Yoruba people, authority was never vague. Our forebears understood structure. This understanding gave Yorubaland stability long before modern governance arrived.

“The throne of Oyo emerged in that history as a coordinating authority, by responsibility. When colonial administration came, it did not invent this reality; it encountered it and recorded it. By 1914, Oyo Province had become the largest province in Southern Nigeria, covering 14,381 square miles. It was bounded in the north by Ilorin and Kontagora, in the east by Ondo and Ijebu, in the south by Ijebu and Abeokuta, and in the west by French Dahomey. This reflected recognised leadership over a wide and diverse space.

“This history explains why certain chieftaincy titles are different in nature. Titles that bear the name “Yorubaland” are not local titles. They are collective titles. They speak not for one town or one kingdom, but for the Yoruba people as a whole. Such titles must therefore proceed from an authority whose reach, by history and by law, extends across Yorubaland.

“Today, I do not speak to provoke debate. I speak to state order. Among the Yoruba, authority has never been a matter of assumption or convenience. It has always been a matter of history, structure, and law. Thrones were not created equal in function, even though all are sacred in dignity. From the earliest organization of Yorubaland, the Alaafin of Oyo occupied a central and coordinating authority – an authority that extended beyond the walls of Oyo and into the collective political life of the Yoruba people. This was not self-declared. It was recognised, enforced, and sustained across generations.

“Colonial records acknowledged it. Post-independence councils preserved it. Scholars documented it.

“And finally, the Supreme Court of Nigeria affirmed it. The law is clear. History is settled. Chieftaincy titles that bear the name Yorubaland – titles whose meaning, influence, and obligation are not confined to a single town or kingdom – fall under a singular, established authority. That authority is the throne of Oyo.”

By Eric Elezuo

Governor Alex Otti of Abia State has explained the reasons behind his much talked about visit to the leader of the Indigenous Peoples of Biafra (IPOB), Mazi Nnamdi Kanu, in Sokoto Correctional Centre.

Nnamdi Kanu was found guilty of all the seven count charges of terrorism brought against him by the Federal Government, and sentenced to life imprisonment, by Justice James Omotosho of the Federal High Court, Abuja, on November 20.

The governor also declared his intention to retire from partisan politics after serving as governor of the state.

Governor made these remarks in Umuahia while reacting to a viral video in which an individual berated him for visiting the IPOB leader in Sokoto Correctional Centre recently and alleged that the visit was aimed at positioning him (Otti) for either the presidential or vice presidential ticket. Otti however, denied having any presidential or vice presidential ambition after his governorship role.

According to him, he would not even contest for the senatorial position after serving as governor of Abia State.

Criticisms, he said, are part of democracy, adding that everyone is free to hold an opinion, even as he acknowledged that some criticisms, especially undue ones, are far from being the truth.

His words, “In the first place, that is the beauty of democracy. So, people should hold their opinions, and we respect people’s opinions. And that you hold a different opinion doesn’t mean you are right.

“One of the things he talked about was my ambition after being governor. And I had said it before, and I want to say it again, that by the time I’m done with governorship, I will retire.

“So, I don’t have presidential ambition, nor vice-presidential ambition. I also don’t have senatorial ambition. So, when I finish with the governorship, I’ll retire.

“I came for a mission. And when I deliver that mission, I will give way to younger people. So, he was talking of Igbo presidency. I don’t even understand what that means.

“So, I think if his thesis is based on that assumption, the assumption has collapsed, because he won’t see me on the ballot.

The Abia governor argued that it is important for a political office holder to know when to quit, especially when the politician has done what he is asked to do.

“When you have done what you have been asked to do, you clear, give way for other people. We’ve seen people here, after being governor who went to serve as Local Government Chairman. That’s not what we are. We are not cut out for those kinds of things.

Otti used the forum to explain why he visited Mazi Nnamdi Kanu at the Sokoto prison.

He said, “The second point is about Nnamdi Kanu. And I don’t want to put this matter in the public space so that it doesn’t jeopardise the discussions that I’m having.

“The truth about it is that exactly 24 months ago, I opened up discussions at the highest level on Nnamdi Kanu.

“And going to see him is the right thing to do, because he comes from my state. In fact, he comes from this local government (Umuahia North – the state capital).

“And there are always ways to solve a problem. I don’t believe that the way to solve a problem is to ignore it. And I had written extensively, even about Nnamdi Kanu and Operation Python Dance, I think in 2017 or 2018. And I condemned it.

“And I still condemn it. And some of the recordings that the gentleman put in his video, I cannot vouch for the veracity of that recording.”

Governor Otti maintained that he knows that when an issue has been approached from the legal point of view, there is also another window called the administrative point of view, stressing that, that is where he (the governor) is coming from.

“I’m not a lawyer. And if the judiciary says the man has been condemned to life imprisonment, that is the judiciary. Even that is not the end, because that’s the court of first instance. There is still an opportunity to appeal and then an opportunity to even go to the Supreme Court.

“But what we are trying to do is to intervene. I’m not a supporter of the disintegration of Nigeria.

“So, my position is that it would be insensitive of me to sit here and say one of our own who has been convicted should die when we have an opportunity to discuss, negotiate, and sue for peace. So, that is my position,” he said.

By Dr. Sani Sa’idu Baba

It was one of those calm, bright mornings in Sallari, a town in Tarauni Local Government Area of Kano State. I had gone to visit my longtime friend and colleague, Dr. Muhammad Umar Abdullahi, at his private facility, Rauda Clinic and Maternity. We were in his office discussing research, the usual challenges of medical practice, and other issues when the sound of hurried footsteps and anxious voices broke the calm. A young man rushed in, calling for the doctor.

Without hesitation, Dr. Muhammad sprang into action. I followed him instinctively. Within moments, two people burst through the gate, one man carrying a weak, heavily pregnant woman in his arms. Her breathing was shallow and wheezy, her face pale, and her body trembling between labor contractions and an asthma crisis. The scene was intense, we both knew that every second counted.

The team quickly moved her to the emergency bed. The Chief Medical Director Dr. Muhammad and his nurses worked swiftly to stabilize her breathing and monitor the baby. Oxygen was connected, IV lines were set, and within minutes, her breathing began to steady. The baby’s heartbeat was strong. After a short but tense period, she delivered a healthy baby girl. Relief filled the room like a gentle wind.

At that moment, I couldn’t help but admire the efficiency and dedication of Rauda Clinic and Maternity. The facility operated with the precision and compassion of a modern hospital. Every member of the team knew their role, every piece of equipment was in place, and the environment radiated calm professionalism. It reminded me that quality healthcare is not only about infrastructure, but about commitment and readiness when it truly matters. Rauda Clinic stood out that day as a quiet pillar of excellence and hope for patients and families alike.

The following day, I placed a call to Dr. Muhammad to ask about the condition of the woman who had been brought in the previous morning. He sounded cheerful and relieved. “Both mother and baby are fine now,” he said. Then, with deep reflection in his voice, he narrated the extraordinary story behind their survival, a story that showed how a single phone call, made at the right moment, became the bridge between life and death. As I listened to him recount the events, I couldn’t help but marvel at how sometimes, survival depends not only on medicine but also on connection.

Her name was Amina, a mother of three. That morning, she was alone at home, her husband was in Dutse, the capital of Jigawa state where he works, and her children had already gone to school. The first wave of pain came suddenly, followed by a tightening in her chest. Within minutes, she was gasping for air, her asthma worsening with every breath. She reached for her phone to call her husband, but the call wouldn’t go through. She tried again and again, each time, “Network error.”

Her strength was fading fast. She tried to reach her neighbors, but again, no connection. Alone, frightened, and struggling to breathe, she said she felt her end was near. Then, a thought crossed her mind, her maid had left her phone in the sitting room that morning. Gathering the last of her strength, Amina crawled toward the television stand where the phone lay.

When she reached it, she noticed the green SIM icon, it was a Glo line. Hope flickered. But when she tried to make a call, she saw there was no airtime. That could have been the end until she remembered Glo’s Borrow Me Credit service. With trembling fingers, she dialed the Glo borrow me code and she got the credit instantly, and that small credit became her lifeline.

Her first attempt to reach her husband failed. Then she dialed her younger brother, Umar. This time, the call went through immediately. Interestingly, Umar is a Glo user too. Without delay, Umar and his wife rushed to her house, found her collapsed on the floor, and carried her into their car.

On their way, Umar called ahead to alert the doctor, and again, the call went through clearly. By a remarkable coincidence, Dr. Muhammad was also using a Glo line. That seamless connection meant the hospital team was fully prepared by the time they arrived. Within minutes, Amina was stabilized, and both she and her baby were safe.

The next morning, Dr. Muhammad told me that Amina had smiled faintly and said to him, “Doctor, when every other network failed me, Glo answered. If that call hadn’t gone through, I wouldn’t be here today.”

Her words carried a truth that stayed with me. It wasn’t just a patient’s gratitude, it was a testimony about the power of reliable connection. At that moment, Glo wasn’t just a telecommunications network, it was the bridge between life and death, between despair and hope.

In today’s world, a simple phone call can determine whether someone lives or dies. That day reminded me that technology, when dependable, is not just about data speed, it’s about human connection at its most critical. Glo proved to be that connection: steady, available, and trustworthy when it mattered most.

Before she was discharged, she laughed and told the doctor she had already chosen a nickname for her baby “Amira Glo.” They both laughed, but deep down, Dr. Muhammad understood the meaning behind that name. It symbolized gratitude, faith, and survival.

As I ended the call with Dr. Muhammad that day, I felt a quiet pride. I had witnessed not just the miracle of life, but the harmony of medicine, compassion, and reliable technology. Through Rauda Clinic and Maternity, I saw what true service means, dedication without boundaries, and connection that saves.

Amina’s story isn’t an advert, but living proof that sometimes, when every other signal fades, Glo stands firm, and when every other facility seems far away, Rauda Clinic and Maternity remains a beacon of care and excellence.

For patients, families, and health workers alike, Glo is proven to be a network of necessity. It connects life to hope, when every second truly counts…

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