Opinion

Rejoinder to Simon Kolawole’s Misrepresentation of The Patriots’ Position on the 1999 Constitution

Published

5 months ago

August 15, 2025

Eric

By Prof. Mike Ozekhome, SAN, CON, OFR, Ph.D.

INTRODUCTION
On Sunday, July 27, 2025, respected columnist,Simon Kolawole, published an opinion piece in ThisDay titled,“Back to the 1999 Constitution – Again?” In the said piece, Kolawole sought to downplay or outrightly discredit the persistent and growing calls for the restructuring of Nigeria’s constitutional framework. He targeted, in particular, the longstanding position advanced by patriotic intellectuals and elder statesmen under the collective known as The Patriots, portraying them as revisionists of Nigeria’s constitutional history. But Kolawole’s interpretation not only misrepresents the actual arguments being advanced by The Patriots, it also rests on selective history, unverified assumptions, and a concerning disregard for legal scholarship and political truth. He claimed, among other things, that The Patriots had falsely asserted that the 1999 Constitution was authored by the military and that their stance was either uninformed or deliberately misleading. (See Simon Kolawole, “Let’s Tell Ourselves the Truth about the Constitution,” ThisDay, July 28, 2024.)

PURPOSE OF THIS INTERVENTION
This rejoinder seeks to correct these misrepresentations and restate – clearly and accurately-the long-held position of The Patriots on the 1999 Constitution. It will also address broader issues surrounding the unsuitability of Nigeria’s overcentralized federal structure in a pluralistic society, and highlight areas of the Constitution, particularly the Exclusive Legislative List, that require urgent reform if Nigeria is to remain a just, united, and functional federation.

CLARIFYING THE PATRIOTS’ POSITION ON THE 1999 CONSTITUTION

Simon Kolawole alleges that The Patriots have repeatedly claimed that the 1999 Constitution was “written by the military” and that such a claim is false because “it was drafted by a committee of legal experts and approved by the Provisional Ruling Council.” He suggests that this position lacks intellectual rigor and should be dismissed by well-meaning Nigerians.

However, this is a complete mischaracterization of the Patriots’ position. The Patriots have never claimed that soldiers sat down with pens and drafted the Constitution in a vacuum. No.What they have consistently stated is that the 1999 Constitution is a product of military imposition, lacking the democratic legitimacy that should accompany any foundational legal document in a pluralistic society such as Nigeria.

In a public statement by Professor Ben Nwabueze, SAN – renowned constitutional law scholar and founding member (later Chairman) of The Patriots-it was clearly argued that:
“The 1999 Constitution was imposed by a military regime without a referendum, without public debate, and without the participation of the Nigerian people. It cannot therefore be considered a people’s Constitution.”

Similarly, in a 2001 press briefing, Chief FRA Williams, SAN, another founding member and pioneer chairman of The Patriots, described the 1999 Constitution as:
“A document that merely adapted the 1979 Constitution and was handed down to us by a departing military junta.”

The use of the term “military Constitution” by The Patriots refers therefore not to its literal authorship by soldiers, but to the flawed process of imposition and the absence of participatory legitimacy through a people’s referendum. It is this absence of democratic authorship and validation that underpins The Patriots’ sustained call for a truly autochthonous Constitution-one emerging from the will and deliberation of the Nigerian people.

To suggest otherwise, as Kolawole did, is to either misunderstand the semantics of constitutional discourse or to deliberately distort the message.I prefer to believe that the former is the case. The consequence of such distortion is dangerous: it undermines the gravity and urgency of constitutional reforms by reducing it to a mere semantic disagreement rather than the existential democratic concern that it actually is.

CRITIQUE OF NIGERIA’S OVERCENTRALIZATION
The evolution of Nigeria’s federal structure is marked by a troubling contradiction: although it is constitutionally designated a federation, the actual distribution of power closely resembles that of a unitary state. This paradox can be traced back to the 1966 military coup and the subsequent unification of the country under a single military command structure. The military, inherently centralist in its command hierarchy, dismantled the regional autonomy that had defined Nigeria’s First Republic (1960–1966). (See Olumide Akanbi, “The Evolution of Nigeria’s Federalism and the Military Factor,” Journal of African Federalism, Vol. 3, No. 2, 2018, p. 45.). What some Northern soldiers considered to be the original sin of General J.T.U. Aguiyi-Ironsi, (the then Head of State who seized power during the chaos and crises that ensued during the 15th January, 1966 military coup),was his promulgation of Decree No. 34 pf 1967 which abrogated the federal stricture in favour of a unitary one.
Before the 1966 military intervention, Nigeria’s federalism allowed each of the three (later four) regions (with the creation of the Midwest Region on 10th August, 1963, from Western Region by popular referendum of the people) to exercise substantial control over local affairs. These regions had their own Constitutions, public services, and developmental priorities. However, from General Yakubu Gowon’s Decree No. 8 of 1967, which effectively abolished regional governments in favor of 12 militarily-administered states, to the eventual promulgation of the 1999 Constitution by General Abdulsalami Abubakar’s regime, Nigeria has grown increasingly centralized. Thus, there has never been any conscious effort by successive governments – colonial, civil or military, since Nigeria’s Lugardian almagamation on January 1, 1914 – to have a buy-in of the people through a referendum. None from the 1922 Clifford Constitution;1946 Richards Constitution; 1951 Macpherson Constitution; 1954 Lyttleton Constitution; 1960 Independent Constitution; 1963 Republican Constitution; 1979 Constitution; 1989 Constitution; and up to the 1999 Constitution.

This over centralization of powers at the centre poses severe governance challenges in a country as ethnically,culturally, religiously and linguistically diverse as Nigeria. With about 374 ethnic groups (Prof Onigu Otite), at least 500 spoken languages and strong regional identities, a one-size-fits-all approach to governance is both ineffective and inflammatory. As Rotimi Suberu notes, “centralized federalism in Nigeria breeds disaffection, weakens accountability, and fuels centrifugal tensions.” (Rotimi Suberu, Federalism and Ethnic Conflict in Nigeria, United States Institute of Peace Press, 2001, p. 112.)
For example, the same educational policy enforced in Zamfara State may be culturally, religiously or economically inappropriate in Bayelsa State. Federal government’s directives on land use, resource control or school curriculum rarely accommodates local realities. Similarly, national security priorities are often applied uniformly without sensitivity to regional insecurity dynamics such as the age-long farmer-herder clashes in the Middle Belt, or self-determination agitations in the South East.
Another critical example is the administration of religion. While the federal Constitution of 1999 claims secularism (section 10), certain states enforce Sharia law, while others either remain secular, practise traditional religion,or remain Christian-dominated. Yet, national laws, judicial and other public structures fail to reflect these peculiar realities, often resulting in policy flip-flops and conflict or discrimination claims. This dissonance between forced constitutional uniformity and lived practical plurality experiences is an enduring source of national instability.
Nigeria’s flawed federalism also impedes development. Federating states are heavily dependent on federally-allocated funds (under section 162 of the 1999 Constitution). This disincentivizes local innovation or internally generated revenue (IGR) strategies. Because federal allocation is distributed by formula rather than performance or resource ownership, states have limited autonomy to plan large-scale infrastructure, education, or healthcare interventions independent of Abuja. This also breeds discrimination and resentment. Oil-rich Bayelsa State, for example, shares from the Federation Account less than may non-oil producing communities notwithstanding the attendant oil and gas–related environmental degradation and prevalent poverty.

OVERHAULING THE EXCLUSIVE LEGISLATIVE LIST
The Exclusive Legislative List in the 1999 Constitution (as amended) contains 68 whole items which only the federal government has power to legislate upon. (See Part I, Second Schedule, Constitution of the 1999 Constitution.This list is excessive and counter-productive in a federal system we pretend to operate in our pluralistic society. It takes away vital areas of governance from the reach of states and local governements, despite their proximity to the people. Among the most problematic items are police and security, prisons, railways, mineral resources, electricity generation and transmission, labour and trade unions, education (particularly tertiary), taxation of certain commodities, matrimonial matters, licensing, etc.

This dominant central control over crucial sectors greatly undermines Nigeria’s federal claim and limits each state’s ability to respond to its unique developmental needs.
Take policing, for example. In the United States and India (both federal democracies with complex diversities), subnational units maintain their own police forces with full jurisdictional authority. Yet in Nigeria, only the federal government is constitutionally empowered to create or control the police force under sections 214 and 215 of the 1999 Constitution. The implication is that state governors, though constitutionally described as “chief security officers” of their states, can not control security within their borders. (See Yusuf Olaolu Ali, SAN, Federalism and the Nigerian Constitution: A Legal Perspective, Spectrum Law Review, 2016, p. 78.)

This unitarinsm has proven disastrous. States facing terrorist insurgency, mass kidnapping and ethnic violence are unable to develop local policing models or equip forces that understand the terrain and speak local languages or respond to such vices as they occur. The result is a reactive and overstretched federal police, further alienating citizens from security providers.
Similarly, prison administration is fully centralized; yet most of the crimes prosecuted in Nigeria occur under state criminal laws,not federal laws. This mismatch causes logistical and financial burdens on the federal system while delaying justice. A state-based correctional system, aligned with state judicial authority, would be more efficient and localized to deal with local offences.

In the education sector, control over accreditation, curriculum and policy located at the federal level stifles local creativity and ignores peculiar local needs. States such as Lagos and Rivers which have made giant strides in digital learning and school reforms are constantly required to comply with federal laws that may not reflect their educational needs,local priorities or resources.

Another major area of great concern is resource control and mining. Under the 1999 Constitution, all mineral resources are owned by the federal government, with states entitled only to derivation funds. This has perpetuated sustained injustice leading to the conflict in the Niger Delta.It has created a retrogrssive culture of dependence where resource-rich states remain poor due to limited control over their God-given assets while non-oil producing states live fat on such poor states.An unjust and obnoxious system of sharing the cake without contributing to its baking has thus emerged.

Globally, federations assign such matters to local authorities. In Canada, provinces control natural resources and generate revenue from them. In India, states co-legislate on police, education and public health under a Concurrent List. In the U.S., the Tenth Amendment reserves unenumerated powers to the states. Nigeria’s failure to adopt similar devolution of powers has painfully hindered innovation, democratic accountability and balanced development.

What is therefore needed is a restructuring of the Exclusive Legislative List, pruning it to only essential national matters such as defence, foreign affairs, banking and currency, while moving most socio-economic functions to the Concurrent or Residual Lists. This would not only align with global federalist principles but also reflect Nigeria’s diverse socio-political realities. Only a brand new Constitution emanating from the people’s will after a Constituent Assembly and referendum can bring about such a revolutionary outcome,not piecemeal amendment of the present 1999 Constitution.

ROLE OF THE NATIONAL ASSEMBLY IN CONSTITUTION-MAKING:
THE LEGISLATURE AS ENABLER, NOT ORIGINATOR
It is axiomatic that under constitutional democracy, sovereignty resides in the people. The legislature, while clothed with enormous powers of lawmaking, is not the primary source or originator of the people’s will. Rather, it is a conduit-a servant and enabler-of that will. Nigeria’s National Assembly, as presently constituted, draws its powers from the 1999 Constitution which is itself a product of military fiat, not of popular affirmation of the people. This reality raises a fundamental legal-philosophical contradiction: can a creature of a flawed document presume to re-birth it? Can a child reconfigure its own paternity? The National Assembly, being a product of a schedule attached to Decree No. 24 of 1999, cannot, ab initio, claim any right to author a new grundnorm that overrides its own existential basis. All it can do is to amend, amend and amend the flawed Constitution under section 9 thereof. The reason is that being the tail (representative agent), it cannot wag the dog (the people that own the will).

The National Assembly’s attempts at constitutional amendment-however noble-have therefore largely been elitist and parliamentary, not popular or plebiscitary. Several constitutional alteration bills have been passed (up to 5 already); yet none has bridged the democratic gap of a sovereign national consensus. None has dared to make Chapter 2 justiciable (the Fundamental Objectives and Directive Principle of State Policy). They would never! The people thus watch from the sidelines as professional politicians hold sway over what should be their social contract. That is akin to medical doctors prescribing medication to patients they have not examined. The people’s voice is conspicuously absent in the very document that governs their lives. The legislative arm must therefore reposition itself-not as the progenitor of a new Constitution, but as the facilitator of a new constitutional order birthed by the people themselves through a referendum.
[See Mike Ozekhome, “The Illegality and Illegitimacy of the 1999 Constitution,” ThisDay, April 22, 2024].

CONSTITUTIONAL REFORM VS. CONSTITUTIONAL REWRITING
There exists a grave conceptual and legal dissonance in conflating constitutional reform with constitutional rewriting. Reform is cosmetic; rewriting is foundational. The former merely plasters the gaping cracks of a collapsing edifice. The latter reconstructs its very foundation. Nigeria’s current approach has been that of tentative and timid reforms. Reforms through amendments involve mere tinkering with clauses, altering sections, inserting or deleting subsections-all within the same defective legal framework. This is akin to merely repainting a termite-ridden house while ignoring the need to first fumigate and wholly rebuild; or merely cutting off the branches of a tree threatening the foundations of a house, rather than uprooting it completely.
Rewriting on the other hand is a revolutionary act-peaceful, yet radical. It is negotiated. It requires a complete break from the past; a tabula rasa; a fresh convening of the people; and a new social contract that reflects the genuine aspirations of today’s Nigerians;not those of 1998 military oligarch. Countries like South Africa, Kenya and some others have walked this noble path through convocation of Constituent Assemblies participation in national referenda. Why not Nigeria?
To continue operating the 1999 Constitution is to perpetuate a fraud-a self-deceit that we live under democracy when in fact we are governed by relics of khaki rule. The National Assembly must embrace its transitional role and work with civil society, the judiciary, the executive and all Nigerian stakeholders to midwife-not manufacture-a new constitutional dawn.
[See Jibrin Ibrahim, “Why Nigeria Needs a New Constitution, Not Another Amendment,” Premium Times, March 4, 2021].

NEW REFERENDUM-BASED CONSTITUTIONS: GLOBAL TESTAMENT TO POPULAR SOVEREIGNTY OF THE PEOPLE
The world is replete with nations that emerged from constitutional darkness into the light of participatory democracy and popular governance. Some examples will suffice here to advance this point. Kenya, in 2010, rose from the ashes of electoral violence to birth a new people-oriented Constitution through a referendum. The Kenyan model was not merely legal-it was moral. It sought to heal, not just to rule. South Africa’s 1996 Constitution is another golden standard: a document forged through exhaustive public consultations, grassroots submissions, and national soul-searching, culminating in a powerful symbol of unity post-apartheid.
Ghana’s 1992 Constitution also passed through a national referendum, marking the country’s rebirth after years of military interregnum. In 2022, Chile attempted a similar feat by proposing a new Constitution through a popularly elected Constituent Assembly. Although that version was rejected in a referendum, the process itself showcased the democratic principle: the people must be heard, not herded; their will must prevail, not discarded.
In Iran, a new Islamic Republic Constitution was birthed in 1979 after a 99.5% referendum of the Iranian people. A people’s referendum in Bangladesh in 1991reintroduced a parliamentary system of government, abolished the office of the Vice President and provided that the President must be elected by the Parliament. Morocco held a referendum on 1st July, 2011, for constitutional reforms in response to wide-spread protests. Egypt subjected its new Constitution to a referendum in 2012. The Eritrean people in 1994 carried out a referendum which gave the people a “sense of ownership of the Constitution”. Tunisia, following a revolution and months of protests, set up a Constituent Assembly that drafted a new Constitution on 26th January, 2014, after a people’s referendum. Iraq, on October 15, 2005, carried out a referendum to adopt her new Constitution.
The United States of America (after whom Nigeria’s Constitution is modelled) held a constitutional convention in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, between May 25 and September 17, 1787, to birth a new Constitution and have a “more perfect union”. Of the 55 Delegates that attended the Convention presided over by George Washington (who later became the first American President), 39 delegates signed a new Constitution after a people’s referendum. Broad outlines of a new Constitution were proposed, debated and agreed upon by these delegates that represented the autonomous confederates. It was this initiative that brought about America’s federal system of government; Executive Presidency; Republicanism; Separation of Powers (a doctrine earlier popularized in 1748 by Baron de Montesquieu, a great French philosopher); and judicial review. It witnesses inclusive inputs by great Federalists such as George Washington, Alexander Hamilton, James Madison, John Jay, John Adams and John Marshal. Since 1789 when the Constitution birthed ( 236 whole years ago),has just 7,591 words with only 27 amendments. The reason it has withstood its stability and acceptability is because it emanated directly from the will of the people and so enjoys their legitimacy and respectability.Why not Nigeria,I ask? (See Mike Ozekhome: Constitutional Autochthony and a Referendum for a New People’s Constitution: A Comparison with the 1999 Constitution; February, 2025, Mikeozekhomeschambers.com).
What unites the above examples is one common thread-referendum. This is the power of the people expressed directly; not elected, selected or appointed through legislative surrogates. The people must see their fingerprint on the agreed charter that governs them. That is the essence of legitimacy through a yes-or-no referendum on the people’s grundnorm. Referendum makes a Constitution autochthonous, homegrown,people-owned.
[See Yash Ghai, “Kenya’s Constitution: An Instrument for Change,” Open Society Foundations, August 2011]
[See Christina Murray and Heinz Klug, “Constitution-Making in South Africa: A Model for the World?” Review of Constitutional Studies, 1997].

LESSONS FOR NIGERIA FROM THESE COUNTRIES
Nigeria must jettison the illusion that piecemeal amendments can yield a legitimate, people’s Constitution. We must learn from America, our African and Latin American siblings that the legitimacy of a Constitution lies not in its legal grammar but in its popular genesis. A new Nigerian Constitution must be drafted by a Constituent Assembly comprising of Representatives of the people elected on a non political or partisan basis-civil society, labour, youth, men and women’s groups, professionals, students, traditional institutions, faith-based organizations, persons living with disabilities and other stakeholders. It must then be subjected to a national referendum where every citizen, from the creeks of Yenagoa to the plains of Sokoto, from the savannah to the mangrove swamps, etc, casts a vote.

This process is not just a legal imperative-it is a national therapy. A referendum-based Constitution would erase the ghost of military rule and birth a fresh beginning and identity for Nigeria. It would convert cynical citizens into patriotic stakeholders. It would replace imposed obedience with inspired allegiance.

The time has come. Let the eagle soar again-not on colonial graves; not on military Decrees and diktats; but on the wings of popular consent of the people.
[See Clement Nwankwo, “Towards a People’s Constitution for Nigeria,” Cleen Foundation Policy Paper, 2021].

THE PATRIOTS’ PATRIOTIC BLUEPRINT FOR A PEOPLE’S CONSTITUTION
A Constitution must not only be written-it must be born. And like all legitimate births, it must pass through the womb of collective consent. The Patriots, a formidable assembly of distinguished elder statesmen and women, jurists, constitutional scholars, professionals, traditional and religious leaders and public intellectuals, have for years championed the cause of a People’s Constitution, not by revolution but by resolution; not with bayonets but with ballots; not by Decrees but through dialogue and democratic deliberation.
Their thesis is clear: no nation can build peace on the foundation of falsehood or silence, and no union can last where one part feels conscripted rather than convened. In the interest of national salvation-not sentiments-they propose a blueprint for constitutional rebirth anchored on Nigeria’s plurality.

PRACTICAL STEPS FOR NIGERIA’S CONSTITUTION-MAKING PROCESS
Step 1: Enactment of Enabling Legislation:
• Executive Bill Pathway: The President submits an Executive Bill to the National Assembly, requesting promulgation of a law to enable INEC conduct elections into a Constituent Assembly on a non-partisan basis.This will comprise of 110 members made up of three representatives from each Senatorial zone of the 36 states of Nigeria and the FCT,Abuja (one per senatorial district). Such candidates are to campaign and run on their personal merit based on their own manifestos, not on political party platforms. This approach follows global best practice, as seen in Uganda (1989) and South Africa (1996).
• Constitution Drafting Committee (CDC):

Step 2: The elected Constituent Assembly sits publicly for the sole
purpose of drafting a new people’s Constitution. In this historic task, the Constituent Assembly shall consult widely across all segments of the society. They shall also draw inputs from:
• The 1960 Independence and 1963 Republican Constitution;
• The 2014 National Conference Report (over 600 consensus-based recommendations);
•Relevant provisions of the 1999 Constitution;
• Relevant reports from Senate and House Committees on their Constitutional Review exercise;
• Nationwide submissions from ethnic nationalities, civil society, the military, Police, media, business,private sector,persons living with disabilities, academia,students leadership, labour, diaspora, traditional and religious leaders, elder statesmen and women, market men and women, and more.
Deliberations at the Constituent Assembly must be open to the public, transparent, and all-inclusive; modeled after the 1996 South African process which received over two million citizen submissions.

Step 3: Public Engagement and Harmonization
Once the initial draft is produced:
• The document must be translated into major local languages and subjected to town hall meetings, digital consultations, and public critique across the six geopolitical zones and the diaspora.
• The drafters shall revise and harmonize the draft based on inputs received.
This step ensures that the Constitution reflects lived realities, promotes civic ownership, and withstands democratic scrutiny.
Step 4: National Referendum
The harmonized final draft is subjected to a national referendum—a democratic mechanism for the people to either accept or reject the new Constitution.
The Constituent Assembly may in its wisdom adopt one of two suggested formats:
• Single Yes/No Vote on the entire draft Constitution (as done in Kenya in 2010 and Bangladesh in 1991).
• Clause-by-Clause Referendum, where citizens vote section-by-section, enabling granular endorsement or rejection. This format mirrors the 1963 Midwestern Referendum of 10th August, 1963.
A minimum voter turnout threshold shall be set to ensure democratic validity.
Step 5: Presidential Proclamation and Entry into Force
Once the referendum is concluded and the draft is approved,it is submitted to the President for assent.
• The President of the Federal Republic of Nigeria, acting under section 5 of the Constitution and in line with the powers vested in nim as head of the Executive, shall sign and proclaim the new Constitution into law, thus bringing about its enforcement.
It is only then that Nigeria can truly affirm the genuine foundational democratic statement: “We the people of Nigeria… do hereby give to ourselves this Constitution.”

This process is not about undermining state institutions—it is about restoring them to legitimacy. It blends legality (via executive and legislative action) with legitimacy (via citizen participation and referendum). It affirms that sovereignty indeed resides with the people, not a political class; not a elitist group.

This roadmap ensures that Nigeria’s next Constitution is not a product of Decree, convenience, or elite consensus, but of collective national will, built through openness, participation, and inclusion.

CONCLUSION

A CALL TO NATIONAL ACTION

Nigeria stands today, not merely at a constitutional crossroads, but at a moral precipice. The air is thick with constitutional fatigue, the soil weary of authoritarian roots masked by democratic branches, and the soul of the nation suffocate under the weight of imposed structures (foreign and military) that neither resemble nor respect its people’s will.

It is no longer a question of whether the 1999 Constitution is flawed. That is settled. It is a graveyard of imposed ideas, a mausoleum of military fiat dressed in borrowed democratic robes. What is now urgent, pressing and constitutionally obligatory is what we, the Nigerian people must do to salvage her soul.

We must not tinker any longer with palliative amendments. The process of constitutional reform cannot merely be an elite sport, played behind closed doors in committee rooms in Abuja, choreographed by a political class more interested in electoral advantage than nation-building. No. It must begin and end with the people.
The people, in their villages and towns, their religious centres and schools, their market places and offices-they are the sovereigns. Not military Decrees of yesteryears. Not the colonially inherited scaffolds of exclusion. Not the self-serving silence of our complicit elites.

As argued above, the role of the National Assembly under sections 4 and 9 of the 1999 Constitution is not to wear the toga of originators. It is not their prerogative to determine in isolation the next chapter of our nationhood. Rather, they must become enablers, facilitators of a people-driven process rooted in popular sovereignty.
The Patriots, in their timeless wisdom, hug this national moment. Their peaceful blueprint for constitutional renewal, laid out with clarity and democratic precision, calls for a step-by-step people’s conference, one divorced from state capture, one driven by inclusivity, and culminating in a national referendum.

This process is not a romantic idealism. It is national necessity. It is legal realism. It is historical debt owed to a citizenry long ignored and dedpised.

Furthermore, at a time where the sword increasingly overshadows the scale, when guns echo louder than reason, the law must reassert itself-not in violence, not in Decrees, but in institutional dialogue. We are not a banana republic. We are a sovereign Republic founded on law and justice.And it is time we returned to that foundation with humility and courage.
Now therefore, dear Nigerians-activists and artisans, farmers,professors and pensioners, youth and students, academia,diaspora, market men and women,military and police, and elderstatesmen and women,religious and traditional leaders- we call upon you. Let this be the hour of national reawakening and rebirth. Let this be the season when democracy is not just recited but rewritten. Let it not be said that in our moment of reckoning, we chose silence over courage, cynicism over hope, and apathy over action.
Let the President, National Assembly initiate enabling Executive Bill; Let the NASS pass it into law. Let the process commence towards a truly people-led constitutional process. Let the Constituent Assembly deliberate and agree on a draft new Constitution.Let the NASS in its new law mandate INEC to organsise a people’s referendum . Let civil society and other stake holders mobilize town halls, public debates grassroots dialogues to aid the Constituent Assembly. Let the courts be courageous in defending the people’s right to re-found their nation. Let the press amplify, not suppress. Let the young rise and the old lead by example and with conscience.

Let it be said of this generation: They inherited a broken Constitution. They rebuilt it and gave us a new one.
Let Nigeria rise anew, not on the crumbling scaffolds of imposed legality, but on the sacred shoulders of popular legitimacy. This is the lens I recommend to Kolawole and others to appreciate the Patriots’ pateiotic position. God bless Nigeria.

Opinion

Reimagining the African Leadership Paradigm: A Comprehensive Blueprint

Published

3 days ago

January 10, 2026

Eric

By Tolulope A. Adegoke, PhD

“To lead Africa forward is to move from transactional authority to transformational stewardship—where institutions outlive individuals, data informs vision, and service is the only valid currency of governance” – Tolulope A. Adegoke, PhD

The narrative of African leadership in the 21st century stands at a critical intersection of profound potential and persistent paradox. The continent, pulsating with the world’s youngest demographic and endowed with immense natural wealth, nonetheless contends with systemic challenges that stifle its ascent. This divergence between capacity and outcome signals not merely a failure of policy, but a deeper crisis of leadership philosophy and practice. As the global order undergoes seismic shifts, the imperative for African nations to fundamentally re-strategize their approach to governance has transitioned from an intellectual exercise to an existential necessity. Nigeria, by virtue of its demographic heft, economic scale, and cultural influence, serves as the continent’s most significant crucible for this transformation. The journey of Nigerian leadership from its current state to its potential apex offers a blueprint not only for its own 200 million citizens but for an entire continent in search of a new compass.

Deconstructing the Legacy Model: A Diagnosis of Systemic Failure

To construct a resilient future, we must first undertake an unflinching diagnosis of the present. The prevailing leadership archetype across much of Africa, with clear manifestations in Nigeria’s political economy, is built upon a foundation that has proven tragically unfit for purpose. This model is characterized by several interlocking dysfunctions:

· The Primacy of Transactional Politics Over Transformational Vision: Governance has too often been reduced to a complex system of transactions—votes exchanged for short-term patronage, positions awarded for loyalty over competence, and resource allocation serving political expediency rather than national strategy. This erodes public trust and makes long-term, cohesive planning impossible.

· The Tyranny of the Short-Term Electoral Cycle: Leadership decisions are frequently held hostage to the next election, sacrificing strategic investments in education, infrastructure, and industrialization on the altar of immediate, visible—yet fleeting—gains. This creates a perpetual cycle of reactive governance, preventing the execution of decade-spanning national projects.

· Administrative Silos and Bureaucratic Inertia: Government ministries and agencies often operate as isolated fiefdoms, with limited inter-departmental collaboration. This siloed approach fragments policy implementation, leads to contradictory initiatives, and renders the state apparatus inefficient and unresponsive to complex, cross-sectoral challenges like climate change, public health, and national security.

· The Demographic Disconnect: Africa’s most potent asset is its youth. Yet, a vast governance gap separates a dynamic, digitally-native, and globally-aware generation from political structures that remain opaque, paternalistic, and slow to adapt. This disconnect fuels alienation, brain drain, and social unrest.

· The Weakness of Institutions and the Cult of Personality: When the strength of a state is vested in individuals rather than institutions, it creates systemic vulnerability. Independent judiciaries, professional civil services, and credible electoral commissions are weakened, leading to arbitrariness in the application of law, erosion of meritocracy, and a deep-seated crisis of public confidence.

The tangible outcomes of this flawed model are the headlines that define the continent’s challenges: infrastructure deficits that strangle commerce, public education and healthcare systems in states of distress, jobless economic growth, multifaceted security threats, and the chronic hemorrhage of human capital. To re-strategize leadership is to directly address these outputs by redesigning the very system that produces them.

Pillars of a Reformed Leadership Architecture: A Holistic Framework

The new leadership paradigm must be constructed not as a minor adjustment, but as a holistic architectural endeavor. It requires foundational pillars that are interdependent, mutually reinforcing, and built to endure beyond political transitions.

1. The Philosophical Core: Embracing Servant-Leadership and Ethical Stewardship
The most profound change must be internal—a recalibration of the leader’s fundamental purpose. The concept of the leader as a benevolent “strongman” must give way to the model of the servant-leader. This philosophy, rooted in both timeless African communal values (ubuntu) and modern ethical governance, posits that the true leader exists to serve the people, not vice versa. It is characterized by deep empathy, radical accountability, active listening, and a commitment to empowering others. Success is measured not by the leader’s personal accumulation of power or wealth, but by the tangible flourishing, security, and expanded opportunities of the citizenry. This ethos fosters trust, the essential currency of effective governance.

2. Strategic Foresight and Evidence-Based Governance
Leadership must be an exercise in building the future, not just administering the present. This requires the collaborative development of a clear, compelling, and inclusive national vision—a strategic narrative that aligns the energies of government, private sector, and civil society. For Nigeria, frameworks like Nigeria’s Agenda 2050 and the National Development Plan must be de-politicized and treated as binding national covenants. Furthermore, in the age of big data, governance must transition from intuition-driven to evidence-based. This necessitates significant investment in data collection, analytics, and policy-informing research. Whether designing social safety nets, deploying security resources, or planning agricultural subsidies, decisions must be illuminated by rigorous data, ensuring efficiency, transparency, and measurable impact.

3. Institutional Fortification: Building the Enduring Pillars of State
A nation’s longevity and stability are directly proportional to the strength and independence of its institutions. Re-strategizing leadership demands an unwavering commitment to institutional architecture:

· An Impervious Judiciary: The rule of law must be absolute, with a judicial system insulated from political and financial influence, guaranteeing justice for the powerful and the marginalized alike.

· Electoral Integrity as Sacred Trust: Democratic legitimacy springs from credible elections. Investing in independent electoral commissions, transparent technology, and robust legal frameworks is non-negotiable for political stability.

· A Re-professionalized Civil Service: The bureaucracy must be transformed into a merit-driven, technologically adept, and well-remunerated engine of state, shielded from the spoils system and empowered to implement policy effectively.

· Robust, Transparent Accountability Ecosystems: Anti-corruption agencies require genuine operational independence, adequate funding, and protection. Complementing this, transparent public procurement platforms and mandatory asset declarations for public officials must become normalized practice.

4. Collaborative and Distributed Leadership: The Power of the Collective
The monolithic state cannot solve wicked problems alone. The modern leader must be a convener-in-chief, architecting platforms for sustained collaboration. This involves actively fostering a triple-helix partnership:

· The Public Sector sets the vision, regulates, and provides enabling infrastructure.

· The Private Sector drives investment, innovation, scale, and job creation.

· Academia and Civil Society contribute research, grassroots intelligence, independent oversight, and specialized implementation capacity.
This model distributes responsibility, leverages diverse expertise, and fosters innovative solutions—from public-private partnerships in infrastructure to tech-driven civic engagement platforms.

5. Human Capital Supremacy: The Ultimate Strategic Investment
A nation’s most valuable asset walks on two feet. Re-strategized leadership places a supreme, non-negotiable priority on developing human potential. For Nigeria and Africa, this demands a generational project:

· Revolutionizing Education: Curricula must be overhauled to foster critical thinking, digital literacy, STEM proficiency, and entrepreneurial mindset—skills for the Fourth Industrial Revolution. Investment in teacher training and educational infrastructure is paramount.

· Building a Preventive, Resilient Health System: Focus must shift from curative care in central hospitals to robust, accessible primary healthcare. A healthy population is a productive population, forming the basis of economic resilience.

· Creating an Enabling Environment for Talent: Beyond education and health, leadership must provide the ecosystem where talent can thrive: reliable electricity, ubiquitous broadband, access to venture capital, and a regulatory environment that encourages innovation and protects intellectual property. The goal is to make the domestic environment more attractive than the diaspora for the continent’s best minds.

6. Assertive, Strategic Engagement in Global Affairs
African leadership must shed any vestiges of a supplicant mentality and adopt a posture of strategic agency. This means actively shaping continental and global agendas:

· Leveraging the AfCFTA: Moving beyond signing agreements to actively dismantling non-tariff barriers, harmonizing standards, and investing in cross-border infrastructure to turn the agreement into a real engine of intra-African trade and industrialization.

· Diplomacy for Value Creation: Foreign policy should be strategically deployed to attract sustainable foreign direct investment, secure technology transfer agreements, and build partnerships based on mutual benefit, not aid dependency.

· Advocacy for Structural Reform: African leaders must collectively and persistently advocate for reforms in global financial institutions and multilateral forums to ensure a more equitable international system.

The Nigerian Imperative: From National Challenges to a National Charter

Applying this framework to Nigeria requires translating universal principles into specific, context-driven actions:

· Integrated Security as a Foundational Priority: Security strategy must be comprehensive, blending advanced intelligence capabilities, professionalized security forces, with parallel investments in community policing, youth employment programs in high-risk areas, and accelerated development to address the root causes of instability.

· A Determined Pursuit of Economic Complexity: Leadership must orchestrate a decisive shift from rent-seeking in the oil sector to value creation across diversified sectors: commercialized agriculture, light and advanced manufacturing, a thriving creative industry, and a dominant digital services sector.

· Constitutional and Governance Re-engineering: To harness its diversity, Nigeria requires a sincere national conversation on restructuring. This likely entails moving towards a more authentic federalism with greater fiscal autonomy for states, devolution of powers, and mechanisms that ensure equitable resource distribution and inclusive political representation.

· Pioneering a Just Energy Transition: Nigeria must craft a unique energy pathway—strategically utilizing its gas resources for domestic industrialization and power generation, while simultaneously positioning itself as a regional hub for renewable energy technology, investment, and innovation.

Conclusion: A Collective Endeavor of Audacious Hope

Re-strategizing leadership in Africa and in Nigeria is not an event, but a generational process. It is not the abandonment of culture but its evolution—melding the deep African traditions of community, consensus, and elder wisdom with the modern imperatives of transparency, innovation, and individual rights. This task extends far beyond the political class. It is a summons to a new generation of leaders in every sphere: the tech entrepreneur in Yaba, the reform-minded civil servant in Abuja, the agri-preneur in Kebbi, the investigative journalist in Lagos, and the community activist in the Niger Delta.

Ultimately, this is an endeavor of audacious hope. It is the conscious choice to build systems stronger than individuals, institutions more enduring than terms of office, and a national identity richer than our ethnic sum. Nigeria possesses all the requisite raw materials for greatness: human brilliance, cultural richness, and natural bounty. The final, indispensable ingredient is a leadership strategy worthy of its people. The blueprint is now detailed; the call to action is urgent. The future awaits not our complaints, but our constructive and courageous labor. Let the work begin in earnest.

Dr. Tolulope A. Adegoke is a globally recognized scholar-practitioner and thought leader at the nexus of security, governance, and strategic leadership. His work addresses complex institutional challenges, with a specialized focus on West African security dynamics, conflict resolution, and sustainable development.

Opinion

Rivers State: Two Monkeys Burn the Village to Prove They Are Loyal to Jagaban

Published

6 days ago

January 7, 2026

Eric

By Sly Edaghese

Teaser

Rivers State is not collapsing by accident. It is being offered as a sacrifice. Two men, driven by fear of irrelevance and hunger for protection, have chosen spectacle over stewardship—setting fire to a whole people’s future just to prove who kneels better before power.

There comes a point when a political tragedy degenerates into farce, and the farce mutates into a curse. Rivers State has crossed that point. What is unfolding there is not governance, not even conflict—it is ritual madness, a grotesque contest in which two men are willing to burn an entire state just to be noticed by one man sitting far away in Abuja.

This is not ambition.

This is desperation wearing designer jacket.

At the center of this inferno stand two performers who have mistaken power for immortality and loyalty for slavery. One is a former god. The other is a former servant. Both are now reduced to naked dancers in a marketplace, grinding their teeth and tearing flesh to entertain Jagaban.

The first is Nyesom Wike—once feared, once untouchable, now frantic. A man whose political identity has collapsed into noise, threats, and recycled bravado. His ministerial appointment was never a validation of statesmanship; it was a severance package for betrayal. Tinubu did not elevate Wike because he admired him—he tolerated him because he was useful. And usefulness, in politics, is key, but it has an expiry date.

Wike governed Rivers State not as a public trust but as a private estate. He did not build institutions; he built dependencies. He did not groom leaders; he bred loyalists. Before leaving office, he salted the land with his men—lawmakers, commissioners, council chairmen—so that even in absence, Rivers State would still answer to his shadow. His obsession was simple and sick: if I cannot rule it, no one else must.

Enter Siminalayi Fubara—a man selected, not tested; installed, not trusted by the people but trusted by his maker. Fubara was meant to be an invisible power in a visible office—a breathing signature, a ceremonial governor whose only real duty was obedience.

But power has a way of awakening even the most timid occupant.

Fubara wanted to act like a governor. That single desire triggered a full-scale political assassination attempt—not with bullets, but with institutions twisted into weapons. A state of emergency was declared with obscene haste. The governor was suspended like a naughty schoolboy. His budget was butchered. His local government elections were annulled and replaced with a pre-arranged outcome favorable to his tormentor. Lawmakers who defected and lost their seats by constitutional law were resurrected like political zombies and crowned legitimate.

This was not law.

This was organized humiliation.

And when degradation alone failed, Wike went further—dragging Fubara into a room to sign an agreement that belonged more to a slave plantation than a democratic republic.

One clause alone exposed the rot:
👉 Fubara must never seek a second term.

In plain language: you may warm the chair, but you will never own it.

Then came the most revealing act of all—Wike leaked the agreement himself. A man so intoxicated by dominance that he thought publicizing oppression would strengthen his grip.

That leak was not strategy; it was confession. It told Nigerians that this was never about peace, order, or party discipline—it was about absolute control over another human being.

But history has a cruel sense of humor.

While Wike strutted like a victorious warlord and his loyal lawmakers sharpened new knives, Fubara did something dangerous: he adapted. He studied power where it truly resides. He learned Tinubu’s language—the language of survival, alignment, and betrayal without apology. Then he did what Nigerian politics rewards most:

He crossed over.

Not quietly. Not shamefully. But theatrically. He defected to the APC, raised a party card numbered 001 and crowned himself leader of the party in Rivers State. He pledged to deliver the same Rivers people to Tinubu just as Wike also has pledged.

That moment was not boldness.

It was cold-blooded realism.

And in one stroke, Wike’s myth collapsed.

The once-feared enforcer became a shouting relic—touring local governments like a prophet nobody believes anymore, issuing warnings that land on deaf ears, reminding Nigerians of favors that no longer matter. He threatened APC officials, cursed betrayal, and swore eternal vengeance. But vengeance without access is just noise.

Today, the humiliation is complete.

Fubara enters rooms Wike waits outside.

Presidential aides shake hands with the new alignment.

The old king rants in press conferences, sounding increasingly like a man arguing with a locked door.

And yet, the darkest truth remains: neither of these men cares about Rivers State.

One is fighting to remain relevant.

The other is fighting to remain protected.

The people—the markets, the schools, the roads, the civil servants—are expendable extras in a drama scripted far above their heads.

Some say Tinubu designed this blood sport—unable to discard Wike outright, he simply unleashed his creation against him. Whether genius or negligence, the effect is the same: Rivers State is being eaten alive by ambition.

This is what happens when politics loses shame.

This is what happens when loyalty replaces competence.

This is what happens when leaders treat states like bargaining chips and citizens like ashes.

Two monkeys are burning the village—not to save it, not to rule it—but to prove who can scream loudest while it burns.

And Jagaban watches, hands folded.

But when the fire dies down, when the music stops, when the applause fades, there will be nothing left to govern—only ruins, regret, and two exhausted dancers staring at the ashes, finally realizing that power does not clap forever.

Sly Edaghese sent in this piece from Wisconsin, USA.

Opinion

What Will Be the End of Wike?

Published

6 days ago

January 7, 2026

Eric

By Pelumi Olajengbesi Esq.

Every student of politics should now be interested in what will be the end of Wike. Wike is one of those names that mean different things to different people within Nigeria’s political culture. To his admirers, he is courage and capacity, to his critics, he is disruption and excess, and to neutral observers like me, he is simply a fascinating case study in the mechanics of power.

In many ways, he was instrumental to the emergence of President Tinubu, and he has long sat like a lord over the politics of Rivers, having pushed aside nearly every person who once mattered in that space. He waged war against his party, the PDP, and drove it to the edge. Wike waged war against his successor and reduced him to submission. He fights anyone who stands in his way.

He is powerful, loved by many, and deeply irritating to many others. Yet for all his strength, one suspects that Wike does not enjoy peace of mind, because before he is done with one fight, another fight is already forming. From Rivers to Ibadan, Abuja to Imo, and across the country, he is the only right man in his own way. He is constantly in motion, constantly in battle, and constantly singing “agreement is agreement,” while forgetting that politics is merely negotiation and renegotiation.

To his credit, Wike may often be the smartest political planner in every room. He reads everybody’s next move and still creates a countermove. In that self image, Governor Fubara was meant to remain on a leash, manageable through pressure, inducement, and the suggestion that any disobedience would be framed as betrayal of the President and the new federal order.

But politics has a way of punishing anyone who believes control is permanent. The moment Fubara joined the APC, the battlefield shifted, and old tricks began to lose their edge. Whether by real alignment, perceived alignment, or even the mere possibility of a different alignment, once Fubara was no longer boxed into the corner Wike designed for him, Wike’s entire method required review. The fight may remain, but the terrain has changed. When terrain changes, power must either adapt or harden into miscalculation.

It is within this context that the gradually brewing crisis deserves careful attention, because what is emerging is not merely another loud exchange, but a visible clash with vital stakeholders within the Tinubu government and the wider ruling party environment. There is now a fixed showdown with the APC National Secretary, a man who is himself not allergic to confrontation, and who understands that a fight, if properly timed, can yield political advantage, institutional relevance, and bargaining power. When such a figure publicly demands that Nyesom Wike should resign as a minister in Tinubu’s cabinet, it is not a joke, It is about who is permitted to exercise influence, in what space, and on what terms. It is also about the anxiety that follows every coalition built on convenience rather than shared identity, because convenience has no constitution and gratitude is not a structure.

Wike embodies that anxiety in its most dramatic form. He is a man inside government, but not fully inside the party that controls government. He is a man whose usefulness to a winning project is undeniable, yet whose political style constantly reminds the winners that he is not naturally theirs. In every ruling party, there is a crucial difference between allies and stakeholders. Allies help you win, and stakeholders own the structure that decides who gets what after victory. Wike’s problem is that he has operated like both. His support for Tinubu, and his capacity to complicate the opposition’s arithmetic, gave him relevance at the centre. That relevance always tempts a man to behave like a co-owner.

Wike has built his political life on the logic of territorial command. He defines the space, polices the gate, punishes disloyalty, rewards submission, and keeps opponents permanently uncertain. That method is brutally effective when a man truly owns and controls the structure, because it produces fear, and fear produces compliance. This is why Wike insists on controlling the Rivers equation, even when that insistence conflicts with the preferences of the national centre.

The APC leadership is not reacting only to words. It is reacting to what the words represent. When a minister speaks as though a state chapter of the ruling party should be treated like a guest in that state’s politics, the party reads it as an attempt to subordinate its internal structure to an external will. Even where the party has tolerated Wike because of what he helped deliver, it cannot tolerate a situation where its own officials begin to look over their shoulders for permission from a man who is not formally one of them. Once a party believes its chain of command is being bypassed, it will choose institutional survival over interpersonal loyalty every time.

Wike’s predicament is the classic risk of power without full institutional belonging. Informal influence can be louder than formal power, but it is also more fragile because it depends on continuous tolerance from those who control formal instruments. These instruments include party hierarchy, candidate selection, and the legitimacy that comes with membership.

An outsider ally can be celebrated while he is useful, but the coalition that celebrates him can begin to step away the moment his methods create more cost than value. The cost is not only electoral, it can also be organisational. A ruling party approaching the next political cycle becomes sensitive to discipline, structure, and coherence. If the leadership suspects that one person’s shadow is creating factions, confusing loyalties, or humiliating party officials, it will attempt to cut that shadow down. It may not do so because it hates the person, but because it fears the disorder and the precedent.

So the question returns with greater urgency, what will be the end of Wike? If it comes, it may not come with fireworks. Strongmen often do not fall through one decisive attack. They are slowly redesigned out of relevance. The end can look like isolation, with quiet withdrawal of access, gradual loss of influence over appointments, and the emergence of new centres of power within the same territory he once treated as private estate. It can look like neutralisation, with Wike remaining in office, but watching the political value of the office drain because the presidency and the party no longer need his battles. It can look like forced realignment, with him compelled to fully submit to the ruling party structure, sacrificing the freedom of being an independent ally, or losing the cover that federal power provides.

Yet it is also possible that his story does not end in collapse, because Wike is not a novice. The same instinct that made him influential can also help him survive if he adapts. But adaptation would require a difficult shift. It would require a move from territorial warfare to coalition management. It would require a move from ruling by fear to ruling by accommodation. It would require a move from being merely feared to being structurally useful without becoming structurally threatening. Wike may be running out of time.

Pelumi Olajengbesi is a Legal Practitioner and Senior Partner at Law Corridor