Anthony Obi Ogbo
Nigerian Politics 101: Malami was not comparing – he was wisely threatening and instigating a reprisal
Of course, brothers from the North are in the driver’s seat at the moment, but let it be known that, until this country undergoes a total overhaul of its governance system, nothing moves – not in north, south, east, or west.
For three days now or so, Nigeria’s political terrain has been stormy, but there was no natural weather condition. No, there was no rain. Last Tuesday, state governors from the southern part of the country, met in Asaba and issued a communique in which they demanded the immediate restructuring of Nigeria and the banning of open grazing in their areas of jurisdiction. The Attorney-General of the Federation and Minister of Justice, Abubakar Malami, quickly criticized these resolutions in a fierce attack that generated more attention and controversy than COVID-19.
The resolutions further generated mixed reactions from different parts of the country, especially among politicians and the regime’s public servants in the North. For instance, the Chairman of the Senate Committee on Agriculture, Abdullahi Adamu, quickly called it a “betrayal of . . . trust“ and accused the group of “playing to the gallery with their demand for restructuring.”
But, among all those who criticized this move, Mr. Malami’s comments seemed to have created unprecedented divisive chaos. Mr. Malami said that the resolve to ban open grazing by southern governors was equivalent to prohibiting spare parts trading in the north. He cited a possible statutory desecration of their actions, arguing that it “does not hold water” in the context of human rights as enshrined in the constitution. He cited the constitutionality of this resolution within the context of civil liberties expressed in the Nigerian constitution.
But the comment that got analysts and news editorials buzzing was when he compared open grazing and the spare parts trading in the north. Mr. Malami stated, “It is as good as saying, perhaps, maybe, the northern governors coming together to say they prohibit spare parts trading in the North.”
Most editorials and commentaries went wild and even published a long list of contrasts between Southerners who are legitimately doing businesses in the North and the wandering herdsmen in the center of the country’s current security dilemma. What these observers, however, failed to understand was that Mr. Malami was speaking in parables. In the context of Nigerian politics, Mr. Malami was not comparing the open gazing practice by herdsmen of the North and the North-based spare parts dealers from the South. He may have sounded like an idiot, but he is not stupid, and, therefore, carefully weighed every word he said.
Mr. Malami was essentially subtly issuing a veiled threat about the possible rebound, should the governors from the South proceed with their proposal. He was indirectly intimidating Southerners with a vengeful stance that could harm their economic interests in the North. Southern economic values and interests in the North are worth millions. Statistically, the Northern has no tangible interests in the South.
He was indirectly reminding the Igbos about the retributive consequences of challenging any policy that does not serve the Northern political interest.
Indeed, Mr. Malami has a reason for using “spare parts dealers” to convey his coded message. You may ask why it was only spare parts that crossed his mind. Yes, he was indirectly reminding the Igbos about the retributive consequences of challenging any policy that does not serve the Northern political interest. “Why Igbos?” one may ask. The explanation is that the Igbos have consistently been actors in the Nigerian political drama, where their lives, homes, and businesses are threatened through punitive governmental policies or exterminated through an organized ethnic cleansing.
Still fresh in the Igbos’ memory is one particular incident in 2013 when northern Islamic police in Kano used an earth‑hauling truck to remove and destroy more than 240,000 bottles of beer seized from supply vehicles and shops owned by Southerners, predominantly the Igbos. Alcohol is banned under sharia (Islamic law). The major concern with Sharia laws operating in northern Nigeria is the lack of respect for due process. The Sharia law is operational in all northern Nigeria states, and unscrupulous politicians and custodians of this legal system have customized it as a repressive tool to pursue their divisive, bigoted religious interests.
Thus, Mr. Malami had a reason for citing the country’s constitution as it reflects freedom or liberty of movement of citizens within the country. He knew that the constitution he referenced was designed to protect the interest of the North. Wisely, he knew that most other proposals by the southern governors would hardly pass through the protective walls of this draconian constitution. So, he was not seeking a possible compromise of these issues or challenges presented at the southern governor’s meeting. He was simply challenging them to “bring it on.”
The North and the South approach Nigerian public-policy matters differently. The northern politicians understand themselves, the politics of the land, and their brethren from the South, whereas politicians from the South are still bewildered by the fallacy of a so-called national character. And this would explain why, in the executive and legislative arms, no Southerner, past or present, has taken any steps to seek the path to a total constitutional overhaul. Thus, no legislation whatsoever has been written or debated regarding this cause.
So, what steps have a collaboration of lawmakers from the South taken to negotiate or legislate a constitutional amendment to pave way for a restructure?
Currently, videos of lawmakers from the South are littering social media in a usual Nollywood display, ranting about a constitution and a governmental structure that do not work. The truth is that presidents and governors do not make laws. So, what steps have a collaboration of lawmakers from the South taken to negotiate or legislate a constitutional amendment to pave way for a restructure? And how could this even be possible where these politicians are busy switching from one party to the other to protect their interests from dire communal challenges?
In a comprehensive vindication of Nigeria’s path to economic and political stability, the South could take a mental bubble bath to specifically seek avenues to overhaul the current predatory constitutional structure. It can never be achieved through an unintelligible, pugilistic approach of the “session” activists – for even a confederacy of this republic into independent regions require a constitutional process. Of course, brothers from the North are in the driver’s seat at the moment, but let it be known that, until this country undergoes a total overhaul of its governance system, nothing moves – not in north, south, east, or west.
♦ Professor Anthony Obi Ogbo, PhD, is on the Editorial Board of the West African Pilot News
“Buhari’s legacy is not a national treasure—it is a cautionary tale of tyranny cloaked in uniform and democracy.” —Anthony Obi Ogbo
In many cultures, including mine, it’s considered immoral to speak ill of the dead. But tradition should never demand silence in the face of truth, especially when that truth is soaked in blood, broken promises, and the battered dignity of a nation. General Muhammadu Buhari, former military dictator and two-term civilian president of Nigeria, has finally departed this world. He died in London, a city he frequented not as a diplomat or global statesman, but as a medical tourist—fleeing the ruins of a healthcare system he helped wreck with decades of authoritarianism, tribalism, and economic blundering.
Muhammadu Buhari emerged from the rotten womb of Nigeria’s corrupt military order — a regime where brute force outweighed intellect, and the rattle of an AK-47 silenced the rule of law. In this twisted hierarchy, competent officers were buried in clerical backrooms while semi-literate loyalists were handed stars, stripes, and unchecked authority. It was a theater of mediocrity, where promotion favored obedience over merit and ignorance was rewarded with rank. Within this structure of absurdity, Buhari thrived — a man with no verifiable high school certificate, yet elevated above the constitution, above accountability, and tragically, above the very people he was meant to serve. He didn’t just symbolize the decay; he was its product and its champion.
Let’s not sugarcoat his legacy. Buhari was no hero. He was a man whose grip on power twice disfigured Nigeria’s soul — first with military boots from 1983 to 1985, then under the guise of democracy from 2015 to 2023. His government jailed journalists, brutalized citizens, crippled the economy, and widened tribal divisions with unapologetic bias. His infamous Decree No. 2 sanctioned indefinite detentions. His so-called “War Against Indiscipline” terrorized the innocent. His economic policies were textbook disasters.
Buhari governed with the cold logic of a tyrant who believed brute force was a substitute for vision — and silence a substitute for accountability. The Southeast, in particular, bore the brunt of his vengeance-laced leadership. His disdain for the Igbo people was barely concealed, a poisonous remnant of civil war bitterness he never let go. In his death, that venom remains unresolved, unrepentant.
Let the record reflect that many of us do not weep. We remember.
Even more damning is the legacy of hypocrisy. After decades in power and access to untold national wealth, Buhari could not trust the hospitals he left for ordinary Nigerians. He died where he lived his truth — in exile from the very system he swore to fix. That is not irony. That is an indictment.
And now, as scripted eulogies pour in — from paid loyalists, political survivors, and the ever-hypocritical elite — let us not be fooled by the hollow rituals of state burials and national mourning. Let the record reflect that many of us do not weep. We remember.
- We remember the students gunned down.
- The protesters beaten in the streets.
- The journalists silenced.
- The dreams buried beneath military decrees and broken campaign promises.
We remember that Buhari was not simply a failed leader — he was a deliberate one, whose failings were not accidents but strategies.
And so, here lie the cold remains of one of Nigeria’s most divisive and mean-spirited leaders — a man who brutalized the democratic process with the precision of a tyrant and the coldness of a man utterly void of remorse. As Muhammadu Buhari begins his final, silent descent into the earth, one can only imagine him entering eternity still questioning the justice of creation: Why did God make women? Why did He place oil in the Niger Delta and not in Daura? And why, of all things, did He dare to create tribes outside the Fulani?
It is not my job to mourn a dictator. My duty is to chronicle them — how they ruled with iron fists, trampled their people, choked the press, and finally died, not as legends, but as small men stripped of all illusions. Dictators are counterfeit gods, tormenting peaceful nations while their delusions last. But sickness humbles them. Death silences them. And in the end, all their grandstanding collapses like dust in a grave.
As a journalist, I will record Buhari’s death with precision, not reverence. I will report the pomp, the propaganda, and the hollow eulogies that will rain down like cheap perfume on a corpse. I will write the truth, because history must never confuse power with greatness — especially when evil wore both the uniform and the ballot.
Let the living learn. Let the wicked sleep. And let the truth outlive them all.
I will not mourn a man who ruled through fear and died surrounded by foreign doctors while his people die waiting in overcrowded hospital corridors. I will not pretend this is a time for unity or healing. This is a time for reckoning. For too long, Nigeria has recycled tyrants and renamed oppression “leadership.” Buhari’s death should not be a moment of forced reverence but a pause for honest reflection. Let his final chapter be a lesson carved into our collective memory: that power without purpose, and rule without empathy, always ends in disgrace. History should not be kind to tyrants simply because they are no longer breathing. If we are ever to break the chains of corruption and cruelty, we must bury the lies with the bodies — and speak truth, even at the graveside. Let the living learn. Let the wicked sleep. And let the truth outlive them all.
♦Publisher of the Guardian News, Professor Anthony Obi Ogbo, Ph.D. is on the Editorial Board of the West African Pilot News. He is the author of the Influence of Leadership (2015) and the Maxims of Political Leadership (2019). Contact: anthony@guardiannews.us
Anthony Obi Ogbo
Dunamis Digital Dilemma: Why Shutting Down Virtual Worship May Alienate a New Generation of Believers
“Spirituality is no longer confined to physical sanctuaries” —Anthony Obi Ogbo
The demands of the digital and virtual age, especially in the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic, are both undeniable and irreversible. The pandemic didn’t merely disrupt norms—it reshaped them. From global commerce to education and religious observance, the shift to digital platforms is now a defining feature of contemporary life. The surge in e-commerce has revolutionized how consumers behave, compelling organizations to reinvent their digital presence through social media, targeted marketing, and immersive experiences like augmented and virtual reality.
Yet, while many institutions have adapted to these realities, some remain entrenched in pre-pandemic mindsets. One recent example is the Dunamis International Gospel Centre in Abuja, Nigeria, under the leadership of Pastor Paul Enenche. The church announced the suspension of its live-streamed services, citing the biblical imperative for believers to gather physically, as referenced in Hebrews 10:25.
While the theological rationale was emphasized, the practical implications—particularly financial—were conspicuously understated. Churches around the world have successfully embraced virtual platforms not just to foster spiritual connection but also to maintain financial stability through online giving systems. In contrast, Dunamis’s move appears to prioritize physical attendance at the expense of accessibility and inclusivity.
In today’s digitally integrated society, suspending virtual worship risks alienating many who have come to rely on these platforms. Individuals with health challenges, mobility issues, or who live far from church facilities depend on livestreams to remain spiritually connected. More importantly, younger generations increasingly seek faith experiences that mirror their digital-first realities—flexible, inclusive, and globally accessible. By disregarding these expectations, churches may unintentionally push away the very audiences they aim to engage.
Pastor Enenche’s decision, while perhaps grounded in spiritual intent, may prove counterproductive in practice. The younger demographic—tech-savvy, mobile, and globally aware—now expects more from institutions of faith. They are turning toward worship centers that treat digital engagement not as an afterthought but as a vital dimension of spiritual life. The hybrid church model—integrating both in-person and online elements—has emerged as a powerful strategy for expanding reach while honoring traditional values. It allows churches to be both rooted and relevant.
The decision to suspend livestreaming church services reflects a deeper tension between tradition and innovation, between preserving ritual and adapting to contemporary realities. Faith institutions today are not just places of worship; they are also cultural anchors navigating an increasingly digital society. Ignoring this evolution risks rendering the church irrelevant to a generation that lives, works, and worships online. Spirituality is no longer confined to physical sanctuaries—it’s present in podcast sermons, Zoom prayer meetings, WhatsApp devotionals, and YouTube gospel concerts.
Virtual engagement is not a dilution of faith; it is an extension of it. It makes the message of hope and redemption accessible across boundaries of geography, ability, and circumstance. The pandemic revealed this, but the future will demand it. Churches that fail to embrace digital tools risk becoming spiritual silos—isolated, inflexible, and out of touch with modern believers.
Leadership in ministry, like leadership in any other sphere, must evolve with the people it seeks to serve. Pastor Enenche and others in similar positions should not view digital transformation as a threat but as an opportunity—an opportunity to reach farther, touch deeper, and uplift more lives. The gospel, after all, is meant for all—and now, more than ever, everywhere.
♦Publisher of the Guardian News, Professor Anthony Obi Ogbo, Ph.D., is on the Editorial Board of the West African Pilot News. He is the author of the Influence of Leadership (2015) and the Maxims of Political Leadership (2019). Contact: anthony@guardiannews.us
“Employers aren’t just filling vacancies—they’re investing in solutions” —Anthony Obi Ogbo
Long before graduation, I understood that success in the job market required more than just a degree. Throughout college, I committed to internships, apprenticeships, and vacation jobs—some unpaid—solely to build the kind of professional experience that would ease my transition into the workforce. By the time I completed my NYSC at The Nigerian Guardian, I wasn’t just another fresh graduate—I was a candidate with proof of performance. I was retained on merit and even offered two cartoon columns at Guardian Express in a separate contract. That preparation made all the difference.
Today, however, many college graduates enter the job market unequipped for its demands. They speak of rejection, frustration, and a lack of experience—all valid concerns in an economy where employers no longer train novice hires from scratch. In a hyper-competitive, fast-paced, and increasingly skills-based market, the burden of preparation rests squarely on the students themselves.
There was a time when being a “novice” came with room to grow. Employers saw potential and invested in it. Now, entry-level roles often come with mid-level expectations: practical skills, strategic thinking, and an ability to contribute from day one. Employers aren’t just filling vacancies—they’re investing in solutions.
This is why it’s crucial for students to begin preparing early. That means building portfolios, seeking field-relevant internships, volunteering in areas that sharpen communication and leadership, and using every academic project as a springboard for real-world insight. These experiences add depth to a résumé and provide talking points in interviews that distinguish candidates from the crowd.
Equally important is networking. The relationships students build—with mentors, professionals, or peers—often become the very bridges that connect them to employment opportunities.
Ultimately, preparing for employment as a college student isn’t optional—it’s essential. And the sooner students begin, the better their chances of entering the workforce with confidence, clarity, and competence.
♦Publisher of the Guardian News, Professor Anthony Obi Ogbo, Ph.D., is on the Editorial Board of the West African Pilot News. He is the author of the Influence of Leadership (2015) and the Maxims of Political Leadership (2019). Contact: anthony@guardiannews.us