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Opinion

A season of long knives…

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season

Nigerian politics long knives season emerges as defections, rivalries and power shifts intensify ahead of Nigeria’s 2027 elections

(Published in TREASURES column on the back page of the New Telegraph newspaper of Wednesday, 6 May 2026).

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“I am tired! I cannot claim to understand this country any more! What should be, is not! What should not, is what is! Can someone please tell me what is happening before I go nuts!”

“You better not go nuts – in your own interest! Your going nuts changes nothing. What gan-gan is your problem?

“My problem or our problem? See the way you talk as if you are not affected by what is happening!”

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“For your information, I have developed a thick skin about happenings around me…”

“Even in a country that many have described as the…”

“Whatever they like, let them describe it! Do you still remember the Ajegunle musician called Daddy Showkey?”

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“Oh my goodness! You like trivializing serious matters! Why Ajegunle and its ragged musicians in a serious matter like…?”

:”When a situation jaga-jaga like we have in the country today, you must take solace in musicians like Daddy Showkey and Eedris Abdulkareem: ‘Nigeria jaga-jaga/Everything scatter-scatter/Poor man dey suffer-suffer.’ However, Eedris (2004) and Showkey (2011) came before their time.”

“What do you mean?”

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“Nigeria never really jaga-jaga when Eedris sang his song. And if Showkey is still in Ajegunle or wherever, ask him to sing that song again:’ If you see my Mama/Hossana/Tell am say o/Hosanna/I dey for Lagos/Hosanna/I no geti problem/Hosanna.’”

“I see! Where in Nigeria today can anyone say he no get am for flenty-flenty froblem? If you must pay before hanging solar in your house…”

“Ooooh! It’s like we keep jumping from frying pan into fire, like Atiku, Obi and Kwankwaso appear to be doing.

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Sometimes, we weep before we see cry, as they say. Things don’t get better here. Today’s worst era may become the golden age of tomorrow.”

“Pessimism of the highest order! You don’t think we should plead with Tinubu to take pity on Atiku and Obi? How can we possibly continue like this?”

“Tinubu does not look like someone who will repeat the same mistake Atiku made in 2003 when he cornered Obasanjo but let him off the hook. Leave the political gladiators alone. As for you, develop a thick skin to whatever is happening around you to keep your sanity intact. Otherwise…”

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“Otherwise wetin? If things are not going well and we cannot do anything about it – and still we cannot talk about it, what, then, is the very essence of living?”

“First of all, you have to outlive things that seek to pai you so that you can tell the story yourself. To do that, you need to understand that many of our leaders don’t care if they pai all of us for as long as the resources are there for them and those around them to enjoy…”

“That is another level of pessimism! Without a people, there can be no rulers…”

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“Oh, so you don’t know that wicked rulers prefer to rule over the living dead? That is why they weaponize poverty…”

“No, no, no! You have hijacked and diverted this discussion! My interest is why the people leaving the Tinubu administration are not the real ones we want out of the way…”

“En-hen? You mean people like who?”

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“Amupitan, of course! For goodness sake, why is Amupitan not leaving? Why?”

“Simple! Because it makes no sense for him to leave!”

“How do you mean? With all the outcry against his continued stay in office? With all the evidence pointing to his partiality…”

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“Listen! When Amupitan is removed, the same Tinubu will appoint a replacement; or is it Atiku or Obi that will appoint a replacement?”

“No!”

“And the new person must be a Nigerian. The same National Assembly will screen and confirm him. We are not bringing someone from the Moon. An angel is not descending from heaven to occupy the position. At the end of the day, Amupitan’s replacement, if Tinubu ever listens to you guys, may even be worse than Amupitan. Ever heard of the saying: The devil you know…”

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“So, we are helpless and our situation is hopeless in an administration that wears RENEWED HOPE like a badge?”

“Not really! My take is that it will be hard – almost impossible – to find an informed Nigerian without an opinion on the politics of this country. What is needed is to ensure that whoever is put in any position rises above his personal views and opinions to act impartially, without fear or favour, and regardless whose ox is gored.”

“I see!”

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“That is why they take oath of allegiance and oath of office. It is when a public officer fails to live up to the oath that he can be dragged…”

“And you think Amupitan has not breached his oath of office of impartiality…”

“He still has the cover of the law. Technicalities will kill the judiciary if care is not taken. These days, there is hardly any pronouncement of the courts that is not interpreted either way, causing confusion everywhere…”

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“And you think that will not affect the 2027 elections?”

“Of course it will! The confusion is with us already. The conflicting judgments on the Labour Party, the confusing judgments on the PDP; the complicated judgments on ADC…”

”But, tell me, why have our courts become like this?”

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“Signs of the times! And you should expect things to get worse because we are in the season of long knives…”

“What is the meaning of that?”

“Elections are fast approaching and politics here always makes the entire polity look like a forest of a thousand demons. ‘Igbo Odaju. Igbo Oju Olomo o to’! Where I come from, they will also say the cocoa season of those concerned has arrived.”

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“And what has cocoa got to do with it?”

“Cocoa farming being the main occupation of the people, the season when they harvest and sell their cocoa beans is when they reap bountiful harvest…”

“I see! So election time is the cocoa season of some people? But where do long knives come in?”

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“Ah-aa? Did you not just say some people were leaving the government?”

“Yes, yes, yes! Finance Minister, Power Minister, Foreign Affairs, Housing, Humanitarian Affairs ministers…”

“Oooh! Some are leaving because they have been stabbed in the back – long knives. Their territories have been cornered by smarter dudes. Others are leaving to seek higher office and greener pasture…”

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“Which office is higher than that of a Minister of the Federal Republic?”

“You must be a novice! A state governor is higher than a Minister; even a senator is higher than a Minister…”

“I don’t understand! In fact, I don’t agree! Some Grade A ministries, as they are called, are even more juicy than some state governments put together.”

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“Maybe in the past; not any longer, especially with the humongous amounts the states collect these days from the Federation Account. A Minister answers to layers of authority above him; governors don’t. To make matters worse, the economic crunch has meant measly allocations to Ministries… ”

“Is that so?”

“Yes! If votes are approved for your ministry but actual funds are not released, like we have heard is the case, what can a Minister do? But allocations from the Federation Account must land in states from Abuja every month without fail. The monthly security votes of some state governors trump the yearly budgetary allocation of some so-called Grade A ministries put together.”

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“I see! So that is why Ministers are emptying themselves into the governorship race, including those who failed miserably as ministers? Why seek a higher office if you failed in a lesser office? Or are you saying someone who failed miserably as Power minister will succeed as a state governor?”

“It depends! Did you care to take a look at the state in question and the pedigree of the would-be governorship aspirant?”

“I don’t understand!”

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“You better do! The man in question has a pedigree you cannot fault. Ever heard of Penkelemesi? That is the alias of his grandfather, who was street-wise and an orator of no mean repute. He spoke an English that Ibadan never forgot. ‘What a peculiar mess!’ became Penkelemesi!”

“You don’t mean it! So ‘Peculiar mess’ is what they turned into Penkelemesi? I also heard that it was ‘Too Dirty’ that became Kudeti. Was he the one who spoke that grammar as well?”

“I don’t know about that! The politics of that place is not for the ‘akada’ or ‘turenchi’ people. Even if you are educated, you must have a commensurate dose of ‘Baba-nla were’ to stand a chance…”

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“You mean ‘were’ as in real madness?

“Beeni! Penkelemesi apart, the political juggernaults of that place include Richard Akinjide aka Mr. Twelve-two-thirds; AMA Akinloye of the specially-imported champagne fame of the NPN ruinous era; the ‘eccentric’ Dr. Omololu Olunloyo; Busari Adelakun aka Eruobodo and the Oga Pata-pata of them all, Lamidi Adedibu, the Generalissimo of Ibadan politics. He was so crowned by no less a personality than a sitting president, retired Gen. Olusegun Olusegun…”

“But didn’t Ibadan also suffer from the incessant blackout that signposted the tenure of the erstwhile Power minister?”

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“That may not matter if he can re-enact the Penkelemesi oratorical magic, reinstate Adedibu’s amala, ewedu and gbegiri politics; and crown it all with a large dose of the ‘Boo’le-k’a-ja’ madness that makes Ibadan politics unique…”

“Impossible!”

“Impossible wetin? The man has started already! He has been spotted controlling traffic on Ibadan roads! That is where the madness begins !”

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“Akika!”

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Opinion

Tributes to Dr. Segun Osoba and Abosede Oluwayemisi

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Dr. Segun Osoba

By Bola BOLAWOLE, 

Dr. Segun Osoba, Marxist scholar and historian, was one of my mentors and role models. Our paths crossed long before I came face-to-face with the enigma at the then University of Ife, now Obafemi Awolowo University, Ile-Ife, where he not only taught me courses in the History department, but was also our staff adviser and comrade.

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Cerebral and unflinchingly principled, Osoba snubbed the usual hussle, if I may call it that, of many academics to attain to the professoral status, preferring to remain “Dr.” even though everyone knew he was not the mate of many a professor!

For me, Osoba’s fame travelled far ahead of him. Appointed by the Murtala Muhammed regime into the Constitution Drafting Committee in October 1975, Osoba, together with his ideological soulmate, Dr. Bala Usman of the History department of the Ahmadu Bello University (ABU), Zaria, broke ranks with the other members of the CDC to author a people-oriented draft Constitution that made the Nigerian people’s interests, aspirations and well-being its focal point. It was termed the Minority Report.

Expectedly, the conservative Olusegun Obasanjo regime that succeeded Murtala Muhammed rejected the Osoba/Bala Usman report while accepting the report of the majority members of the CDC on September 14, 1976. The CDC was chaired by Chief FRA Williams.

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The majority/minority report divide apart, the CDC was not without its controversies: The sage, Chief Obafemi Awolowo, had declined to serve on the committee, thereby reducing its members from 50 to 49. There was also the debate as to what would have been the choice of a much more radical Murtala Muhammed had he not been assassinated on February 13, 1976.

Specifically because of Osoba and Bala Usman, I chose to study History in the university! And I was fortunate to drink from the fountain of knowledge at the feet of Dr. Osoba on and off the classroom. As comrades, our relationship did not end at Ife; usually, comradeship is a life-long endeavour.

In late December 2023, after a spell of ‘long-time-no-see’, four of us old students/comrades of Comrade Osoba decided to visit him at his Ijebu-Ode residence – Femi Falana, SAN; Ambassador Ayo Olukanni; Kayode Komolafe (K.K.) and my humble self.

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Comrade was still his very sharp and humorous self. Despite his health challenges, he still “recognised” each and everyone of us by our voice. We discussed for hours and it was amazing that ill-health spared his intellect. He was his familiar self – analytical, even if caustic, going down memory lane and recalling facts and figures as if he was reading them from a book spread out before him.

We promised to return. Unfortunately, we procrastinated, despite Olukanni’s repeated prodding. But as individuals, we attended his 90th birthday celebration held at Ijebu-Ode on 9th January, 2025. His book, “Critical and Contentious Issues in the Modern and Contemporary History of Nigeria: Collected Writings of Samuel Olusegun Osoba”, which was unveiled at the occasion, adorns my Library. See also my “Tributes to Comrade (Dr.) Segun Osoba at 90”, published in this column in the Wednesday, 15 January, 2025 edition of the New Telegraph newspaper.

Dr. Osoba passed away peacefully at home in Ijebu-Ode on 14 May, 2026. A flurry of activities by comrades from all the nooks and crannies of this country as well as abroad celebrated his life, extolled his virtues, pledged to continue the struggle from where he stopped, and bid him farewell from this earthly plane. In this were the words of Che Guevara fulfilled: “Wherever death may surprise us, let it be welcome, provided that this, our battle cry, may have reached some receptive ear and another hand may be extended to wield our weapons (Message to the Tricontinental, 1967).”

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I was unable to participate fully in some of the activities because of the tragedy that fell at my doorsteps at about the same time.

First, my elder sister’s husband, Gabriel Alani Olusola Omiyale, died on June 11, 2026 at the age of 89 years. He was a mentor. Then came the bombshell: His daughter – and my sister’s second child, Abosede Oluwayemisi – died the same month on June 29th at the age of 54!

That was massive! To say we were devastated is an understatement. If the pains that attended Bose’s death remain indescribable, the ways and manners of her husband and his family immediately before and after her death remain a puzzle. They rubbed insults on our injury.

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They desecrated our Yoruba customs and traditions. Bose had heroically battled the scourge of breast cancer; after undergoing an operation, we were all optimistic she was on the path to full recovery until tests showed she needed more medical attention.

Naturally, she was devastated but, gradually, she built up the confidence and strength required to see her through. No stone was left unturned by her extended family who did not leave the load for the husband and his family to carry. All hands were on deck.

The extended family had always been there for Bose. Her siblings had been wonderful; never allowing her husband’s unstable job situation to show or affect Bose’s treatment and other needs, including her children’s education and welfare. I also played my part. I am grateful to everyone who responded to our clarion call in many ways.

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We were hopeful we would all pull through it and that Bose’s case would be another testimony that cancer can be beaten. All she needed – as much as medicare – were words of encouragement and support. That, however, became the weakest link!

Act one: Against the best advice of her mother, my niece was made to consume a concoction that turned the tide. According to her husband, the concoction was procured by his own brother in Akure, Ondo state, taken to a church for prayers after which it was dispatched through a motorpark! Bose drank this concoction and started vomiting. In his own testimonies, Bose’s husband took her to a hospital where she was given drips, which gave her some strength, but because the doctor was late in coming, he took her back home despite the fact that the test they ran indicated that she had a blood infection! That night at home, she started vomiting again and, according to the husband’s testimony, he took her again to the hospital by 1.30am. She was left unattended until late afternoon when she fell into a coma! Bose’s blood infection was never treated until she passed away!

Act Two: Our standard practice had been to always double-check whatever a doctor said or prescribed, but on this fatal day, Bose’s husband kept all of us in the dark. We were not told of the blood infection. We were not alerted when she started vomiting again in the night. We were not informed when he took her again to the hospital. According to him, Bose walked with her own legs into the hospital, climbing the row of stairs all by herself.

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Act Three: At the hospital, the husband took Bose’s phone and locked it in the car parked downstairs. So she had no access to her phone – to call out or receive in-coming calls. She was held incommunicado. And there was no one else there with the husband and wife. He called noone; he also snubbed repeated incoming calls into his own phone, including from my elder sister, who is Bose’s mother.

Act four: Later that afternoon, the husband called me to say Bose was not responding to treatment and that I should start interceding for her. I was aghast! I had been waiting all day for them to link up with me for a scheduled appointment. Later, a female voice using the husband’s phone called me to quickly come to the hospital. I was on my way there when Bose’s second child, a girl writing exams at the Obafemi Awolowo University, called me, sobbing! “Daddy, what is happening to my Mom? My Daddy called me and said my Mummy is in coma” Coma! “Yes, sir”, the girl replied, “and my Daddy said my Mummy is dead!” I almost lost control of the wheel because I was driving.

Act Five: On getting to the hospital, they had already started embalming Bose! I screamed at the husband, but the hospital staff restrained me. Why the haste? Without any of her family members present! A thousand thoughts ran riot in my head. At 6.28 pm, Bose’s mortal remains were deposited in the morgue and we left.

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Act Six: While we were agonizing about how to break the sad news to Bose’s mother, her husband and his family had posted Bose’s death on every conceivable social media platform, breaking the news to her young children, the oldest of whom is just a little over 20 years while the youngest is 14!

Act seven: We the siblings of Bose’s mother wanted a decent burial for her. We wanted her dreams and visions for her children respected. Bose’s husband and his family spurned all of that! They weaponized Bose’s young children against us. They threw their so-called customs and traditions in our face at every turn – as if the Yoruba have no customs and traditions. They employed deceit and subterfuge and hurriedly committed Bose to mother earth without any of her family members present! We warned! They ignored and played games!

Google says Edema is a name answered by both the Urhobo and Itsekiri people of Delta state. Does their culture permit the trumping of Yoruba customs and traditions? Should a husband boast to his children – while their mother was still battling cancer – that, if she dies, he will remarry? So, expect his wedding invitation!

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Had Bose died of cancer, our pains would have been less insufferable; but she did not! Were they tired of the stress and wanted closure so they could move on with their own life? Hastened to her death! Hurried to the grave! This is to put the records straight. Our immediate attention, however, is the good health of Bose’s mother – and Daddy Omiyale’s burial slated for 29th and 30th of October this year.

Let Dr. Segun Osoba rest in power! And eternal rest grant Abosede Oluwayemisi Edema (nee Omiyale), O Lord!

 

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(Published in the TREASURES column on the back page of the Wednesday, 5 August, 2026 edition of the New Telegraph newspaper).

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